Meet Carolyn - my new favorite newspaper writer...

A friend of a friend posted this on their FB. Please, take a moment and read it all the way through. I'll wait.

Now, apparently this article is from a few years ago (from what I can gather 2007) but wow - this is exactly how I feel as a parent. People who don't have children have NO CONCEPT of how much time parents spend with their children, on their children and/or thinking about their children.

I have plenty of single friends who have called me a stick in the mud, an old lady or boring because I don't spend my free time in bars, going out or just with them in general. Dude, pull up a clue. My time with my children is too important for me to fritter it away. And yeah, they go to bed - but if you think that means I'm immediately going to call a sitter so I can go out and get stupid you... Are out of your flipping mind? I have laundry to do, dishes to deal with, and dang it, about 15 hours worth of shows on the DVR to catch up on.

If I am going to go out I'm going out with my guy. You know him, right? He's the one who busts his ass at work 70+ hours a week to take care of me and our kids? The one who's put his social life on Stop (yeah, not pause, stop) because he wants to be the daddy? Yeah, him. He could use a few minutes of quiet time with me too. We haven't been out on a date in about a year and a half. So excuse me if you're not at the top of my priority list. I have four people in my life that automatically outrank you. And really, if you're going to call me your friend, you should know, respect and expect that.

RAWR!

I was going to post today...

... but it just took me 40 minutes to get a MP3 to work correctly.

/sigh
I'll try again tomorrow.
/end sigh

Picking Up The Gauntlet

A few months ago I tagged some friends on Facebook with one of those "Getting to know you" type things. It had 100ish questions and probably took about 30 -45 minutes to do if you did it right - as in more than one word answers. One of my tagged friends vowed revenge for, in her words, "Giving my guy ammo". I laughed it off and continued on my merry way. I should have known better. I should have known she'd come up with some way to get me back. This post is her revenge.

So, the gauntlet M. has thrown down is this: "What would be your ultimate, fantasy date?"

This question forces a disclaimer of sorts from me: I am anwering the question honestly because - well - M. was honest on her responses and didn't wimp out and water down her answers. I am throwing caution (and finances) to the wind here. I do not ever expect that this scenario would work in real life nor am I attempting to apply pressure in any way.

This question is much more suited to the single set - being in a relationship makes it seem like I'm working an angle.

Ok, here we go.

The ultimate date for me would involve a lot of prep in all honesty. First, the kids and the dog would need to be taken care of by someone - this would probably mean talking to my parents (to take the kids) and my friends T. or R. to hang out with Diezel overnight. An overnight bag would need to be packed. Shopping would need to be done. Reservations would have to be made. Ordering would have to occur. For what and where you ask? Well...

I really would love to stay overnight at Inn Boonsboro. I mean, how much more amazingly romantic can an inn get? It's owned by my favorite author Nora Roberts, has amazing rooms - seven of which are named after "happily ever after" literary couples - and offers really amazing amenities and packages. I'd love to stay in one of the suites and I don't think you'd blame me - check out the bed in Westley and Buttercup:

Source

Amazing right?

And The Penthouse:

Source

Gorgeous.

Just staying overnight in one of these would be killer - but that's not full on ultimate, fantasy. So we have to go a few steps further.

I'd love to find these in the room...

Source

As for dinner - I've no interest in going out... Palettie in room would be amazing.

And hey, every girl wants a gift right? Something gorgeous and memorable and just "Wow". Something that inspires amazement and makes you want to tell the story of your guy giving it to you to everyone. And as this is a fantasy it would have to be jaw dropping. Something like this...

Source

And yes, it would be given while B. ask THE question.

Hey, if I'm going to put my ultimate, fantasy date out there I may as well pull out all the stops right?




Oh, and M.? Game on girl, game on...

Quick Update

I wanted to swing by here and give everyone a quick update about the girlie.

She's doing great - no incidents at school or on the bus since "The Incident". She's rebounded beautifully. I'm going to be following up with her assistant principal and bus driver today.

Thank you all for sending my girl (and me) so many good thoughts, emails and comments. We both really, really appreciate it.


L.,
~K.

Hurt

My daughter was hurt yesterday.

As a parent you have to expect that your child will be injured. No matter how careful you are, no matter how many safety devices you install, they're going to get hurt. Bumps and bruises, scrapes and breaks. It's part of all of our lives. It's part of the deal.

But one of the craziest things about being a parent is how deeply you feel your children's pain. You expect to feel pain when you hurt yourself - but when they are hurt it's a whole other ball game. Their scraped knee makes your eyes mist over, bruises makes your stomach hurt, getting a cold or a terrible cough is like a bruise to your heart. But we learn to tough it out for our kids. We tell them it's ok, that it's not so bad, that it'll only hurt for a minute. We swallow back our own tears and, smiling, wipe theirs away. It's one of the super powers you gain as a parent - the ability to "make it better".

Sometimes, some horrible times, you have to face the fact that you can't totally fix it yourself. So we bring them to the doctor or the hospital. We teach them that even though medicine is yucky sometimes you have to take it. We bring their favorite toy or their blankie, we rock them, we sing to them. We make it better, even when we can't make it go away.

And then there are days like my girl and I had yesterday - hurts that go deeper than bruises. The hurts that come from words, the pain that comes from cruelty. We've all been through it - the shame of being made fun of, the tears you cry because you've been called a name and the painful disbelief that you, who are so loved just because you are you, are disliked because you're different. I wanted to rage for her, to scream and yell and throw things. But I couldn't, because that's not what she needed. So I held her while she cried it out, and I told her I loved her, and I promised her I would do everything I could to make it better.

I'll never be able to make it completely better - and as a parent that just breaks my heart. But I'm doing everything I can. I'm making phone calls and giving extra hugs, I drove her to school and made sure she'd be safe on the ride home. I'm talking to principals and gathering facts, I'm doing paperwork and making sure she knows how much we love her.

She's bouncing back, and that eases my heartache a bit. She'll be okay and that makes me proud. Her brother is being protective, her grandmother brought her a "feeling blue" gift. Relatives the world over have sent encouragement and love her way. And all of that gives her mama another reason to cry - the good kind of tears. Tears of gratitude and appreciation for everyone that took a moment to give her baby love.

She's curled up in her room with the book her grandmother gave her as I write this. Her brothers are playing down the hall and checking on her regularly. And her daddy - the guy that can make even imaginary monsters quake in fear - is on guard duty and plotting a sundae run to make her smile.

He's a smart man. Ice cream makes everything - even hurts like these - better.

omg rotfl

"Recently, I told my FI that we needed to talk about STDs ASAP. He looked at me like OMG, so I said, “FYI, STDs give PPL the 411 about the wedding ASAP, especially those OOT from BFE.”

“OIC,” he said, “Like a reverse RSVP.” LOL, I said “OK, sort of.” “BTW,” I said, “IMO, I could probably DIY them with my MOH and BMs and maybe my FMIL. I’ll just consult the STD FAQ on the WWW. What’s your POV?” But by then, he was ZZZing. TBC, I guess."
From Mrs. Lovebug


'Scuse me, I have to clean up the diet soda I just spit all over my monitor reading this... I'll be back with a real post in a bit.

Back to Fall

I've always loved this time of year. The end of August always feels like change to me - the end of summer, the start of school, the beginning of fall. The buying of school supplies was always the first joy of fall to me - it meant that orange & red leaves, pumpkins and apple cider weren't far away.

Growing up in Connecticut it only took a few weeks for it to stop mattering how warm it was during the day - with the sunset would come the wonderful cool that is fall in New England. By fair time you could rock your black leather boots, jeans and a jacket... That was pretty much my standard uniform from late September all the way through May during my teenage years.

I loved the smells of fall. The crispness of the air, the sharp tang of wood smoke and the spice of mums. And the sounds - that same crisp air whipping up the leaves that then crunch underfoot, the honking of migrating geese... And the thick stillness of foggy fall mornings - cool, misty and close - muffling it all.

I live a bit further south now - not so far that you would think it would make much of a difference. But, somehow, it does. Fall doesn't quite feel like fall to me here. It's too hot, too sticky, too bright for me. I miss fall in New England. I miss apple cider from Lyman's and split pea soup at my grandmother's, waking to frosty leaves and walking in the woods.

But still, we're buying pencils and paper, jeans and sneakers. And the yellow school buses will be rolling soon - rolling my children off to school. Fall is different now but it's still my favorite season. And maybe, just maybe, I'll go home for a little while and show my children the fall I remember.