Because I’m So Super Funny

I’ve entered a little contest for a blog book being put together to benefit the NieNie fund.  The blog book will be written entirely by bloggers, and the contest was for inclusion of something I’ve written in the book.  Like, I could be published in a real book, with pages and everything. 

The goal of the book is to make people smile, hence the name “Sometimes Life is Funny.”  And we all know how terribly funny Kristen is.  Actually, it’s not so much me that’s so funny, as it is my little ones.  I just relay the fodder.

Unfortunately, today is the last day for entries, but those of you who are up late may still have a few minutes to shoot off an email with your funniest story.  Click this link for more information.  And even if you don’t enter, check it out.  It could just make you smile…

More Tidbits…

…because I’m tired people.  And I’m still sick.  Yep, it’s been a month now, and I can’t shake it.  So here are a few little bits of things to keep you entertained…

1.  “THE MUSIC DIDN’T SUCK.”  Yes folks, this was an advertisement for a church that I received in the mail.  First of all, I don’t go to Mass because the music “doesn’t suck”.  I go to worship God.  Second of all, isn’t the word “suck” kind of a misfit for a church ad???

2.  On Friday evening, my little boy had a baseball game.  Can I just say how much I am enjoying the baseball–seriously.  I didn’t think I would really get that into it, but I really do enjoy the games!  Anyway, it was a 6:00 game, and I fed the kids early but of course not me, because why would I do something good for myself?  So when I got home from the game, I grabbed a beer and a bag of chow mein noodles.  Yes, I ate 1/3 bag of chow mein noodles and a beer for supper.  And I wonder why I can’t get over this cold…

3.  Here is my friend:

Isn’t he cute?!  Actually, I’m not sure of his sex.  Or should I say gender?  I think we used to say sex, and now we have to say gender.  Whatever.  I love this little frog.  He is on our deck every.single.day.  He sits in the same spot all day long, and then at night he disappears.  The next day, he’s in a different spot.  It’s sort of like hide and seek.  This has been going on all summer, and now fall.  I think I’m going to give him a name.  I’ll let you know what I come up with.  And it’ll be better than “froggy,” which is what I’ve been calling him.

We also have a chipmunk friend.  He is too quick for me to get a photograph.  I think he has a nest under our sidewalk in the front garden.  He likes to dig in the pot of petunias on our stoop, and he makes a rather large mess of the mulch.  He digs in it and flicks it all on the sidewalk.  I call him Chippy.  Yes, it’s very original.  I’m sure Henry get’s his creative naming abilities from me.

4.  In addition to dreams about accounting and husbands leaving, I am now dreaming about not having anything to blog about.  Oh the pressure, people!

5.  I still have 135 bulbs to go…  I have had time to plant not a one of them.

6.  Apple tarts make a delightful breakfast.  Another reason I’m not well, I’m sure. 

7.  Ella loves to read.  Here she is, on the couch, reading Jemima Puddleduck.  Don’t you just love to say Jemima Puddleduck?  And also Mrs. Tiggywinkle. 

Unfortunately, she doesn’t stay in this position long.  She’s a mover.

8.  I got this “one word” meme from my sister.  Henry answered it, too.  Here are his answers:

1. Where is your  cell phone?  over there
2. Where is your  significant other?  work
3. Your  hair?  red
4. Your  mother? ears
5. Your  father?  ears
6. Your favorite  thing?  cars
7. Your dream  last night? monsters
8. Your  dream/goal?  Wolverine! 
9 . The room you’re in? my room
10. Your hobby? play
11. Your  fear? dinosaurs
12. Where do you  want to be in 6 years?  baseball
13. Where were  you last night? bed
14. What you’re  not? in the storage
15.  Muffins? food
16. One of your  wish list items? Cheerios
17. Where  you grew up? with food
18. The last  thing you did?  went to bed
19. What are you  wearing? clothes
20. Your TV? right there
21. Your pet?  toad
22. Your  computer? up there
23. Your life?  I don’t know
24. Your  mood? sick
25. Missing  someone? Mama
26. Your  car?  Daddy’s
27. Something  you’re not wearing? undershirt
28. Favorite  store? Target
29. Your  summer?  Fall
30. Love  someone?  Ella
31. Your  favorite color? Black
32. When is the  last time you laughed?  When Kate maked me laugh.
33. Last  time you cried?  When someone hit me.
34. Who will resend this?  turn it off.

He likes the frog, too.  And Target.  And food.  He is a boy after my own heart. 

9.  We’re going to a Hokie football game this weekend.  I’m excited and nervous and dreading it all at once.  I’m certain I will have stories to tell when I get home, and at least for a while, will not have that blog-fodder nightmare.

10.  Did you happen to see the Virginia Tech v. Nebraska game on Saturday night?!  I’m so proud of my Hokies!!!  Woohoo!!!  Yes, things are looking up in Blacksburg.

LET’S GO…

HOKIES!!!

Alrighty, quiet time (and I use that term loosely) is over now.  Must go hang with Hank.

Hearing Aids Do Have Some Advantages…

The children (one in particular, but I’ll not mention any names) have begun to plug their ears when they don’t want to hear something.  And we’ve been explaining that it is rude and unacceptable to do so when Mommy or Daddy (or another adult, or frankly anyone) is speaking. 

Henry is a visual learner.  I’m sure that is due, in part, to his hearing loss, but whatever the case, he is very observant.  Let’s just say that the little freckle-faced, redheaded, four 1/2 year old boy is clever, very clever.  He tried with the ear plugging, but the hearing aids still pipe in the sound to his ears.  So the other day, when he was being reprimanded, he smiled, turned off his hearing aids and said 

“Ha ha!  I can’t hear you!!!” 

So we then gave him the rude, unacceptable lecture, which seems to have taken care of the problem.  As frustrating as it was at the time, in hindsight it is a little bit funny.  I just hope he doesn’t say something like this to his teacher.  I don’t think she’ll get the whole “little-bit-funny” aspect of things. 

He gets that little-bit-funny part from me, you know.  And also the very clever part.  I can’t help but love him.

Tagged with a Meme

Alrighty.  The BM tagged me for a meme…  I’ve been sitting on this for a while.  Partly because I’m sick.  Partly because I’m busy.  Partly because I don’t really know the answers until I sit down and think about it, and who has time to think?  But it is on my to-do list, and that always gives me motivation.  So here goes…

Rules:

1. Write about 5 specific ways blogging has affected you, either positively or negatively.
2. link back to the person who tagged you
3. link back to this parent post
4. tag a few friends or five, or none at all
5. post these rules— or just have fun breaking them

Alrighty then, here we go…

1.  Blogging has given me a creative outlet.  I have never enjoyed writing.  Until now that is.  Maybe that is because I never felt that I had anything interesting to write about.  Not that turtle sex, boogers and the like are all that terribly interesting, but hey, for me, it works. 

2.  Blogging has encouraged me to take a lot more pictures.  I love photography (mainly photos of my children), and I love editing the photos.  Again, it’s a creative outlet. 

3.  It eats up all my free time.  Both reading blogs and writing posts.  Major time killer.   But an enjoyable one.  It’s kind of like my drug of choice.  Well, that and chocolate.  And wine.  Can’t forget the wine.

4.  I am now having stress-out dreams about not having enough blog fodder.  You see, the accounting and husband-leaving me dreams were not enough to keep me up at night, so I now have something else to focus my worries on. 

5.  It feeds my ego.  I mean, I like it when someone says something nice about something I wrote.  Motherhood is a tough job.  It’s sometimes thankless, sometimes dirty, sometimes mundane.  Once, after a particularly tough day, my husband asked me what I wanted motherhood to be like, what did I expect it would be like.  I remember saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, that I thought I would be appreciated more (and that I wouldn’t be so tired all the time, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with this answer).  So I guess the comments are like positive reinforcement…people appreciate something that I’ve done.     

I am tagging no one.  That would require extra thinking.  And folks, it is late.  I’m signing off…

Accepting the Truth

Friday afternoon I ran into a woman and her little boy, 4 1/2 years old, just like my little Henry, 4 1/2.  Her son was excited to see Henry because he saw Henry’s two bright blue hearing aids. This little boy, we’ll call him John, wears one.  He has normal hearing in his right ear. 

It’s amazing how much you can learn about a stranger in a five minute conversation.  This woman and I have vastly different views on a number of things, from cochlear implants and hearing aids, to the school systems, to the way we view our boys.  Because her boy has normal hearing in one ear, our situations are different, but it is always good to meet a mother who know a little about hearing loss and the struggles associated with it. 

We got on the subject of FM systems (which are basically microphones that a teacher or other adult will wear to pipe sound directly into the hearing aid), an accomodation which is commonly used for hard of hearing children in our county schools.  I told her that the school provides them for the children to use, and that she could have it written into John’s IEP when he enters school. 

Because John didn’t qualify for services, she didn’t think he would have an IEP.  I told her that my Henry also had age-appropriate speech and language comprehension now, but that he qualifies for services simply due to the fact that he has a disability. 

“You see, I don’t think of John that way” she said.  And though I know she was not trying to be hurtful, for some reason it felt like an insult…that I had just used a dirty word to describe my son.  That the term ‘disabled’ meant the equivalent of damaged goods.  She approached me because we had something in common, but it seemed now like she was trying to put some space between us, because we were not the same.  Because her son does not wear the disability label that mine does.   

It reminded me of myself when Henry was first diagnosed as hard of hearing, and how I couldn’t wrap my arms around the idea that he was disabled.  We lived for two years thinking he had not a problem in the world, and then all of a sudden we find that we have a hard of hearing child.  Even still, it is hard to think of him in those terms.  Because on a day to day basis, if you’re watching from the outside, he is just like all the other boys. 

I remember thinking that my son was hard of hearing, but didn’t have a disability.  I didn’t want to admit it.  I didn’t want to accept all the ways that raising a child with a disability would change my life.  I didn’t know anyone with a child with a disability.  I didn’t know anything about this club, and I didn’t want a membership.  I wanted what everyone else had.  I wanted “normal.”  I had just been through months of struggle with my first son, and wasn’t ready for another struggle, let alone a lifelong struggle.  So I tried to deny, for a while, that I would have to deal with it. 

I remember listening to his speech grow, his comprehension increase, and thinking he’ll be just fine, you wait and see.  And yes, he is just fine.  But he still needs help, accomodations, repetition, focus. 

I remember that every time he mastered a task, another larger, more complicated task lay ahead.

And I slowly began to realize that this hard of hearing business was more than something that we could just work hard on and conquer.  It was something that we would live with, that he would live with, forever. 

And as he gets older, I continue to grow in understanding the disadvantage he is at when compared to other children. 

I understand that he doesn’t pick up the incidental language near as much as my other children did…he needs to be deliberatly taught.  And he needs repetition.   

I understand that the complexities of the English language will trip him up as he gets older. 

But I also understand that he is smart, and that he will make it. 

He will be just fine. 

But he’s going to have to work.  

Because he does have a disability. 

I can say that now, and believe it, and love that about my Henry.  And I embrace this club I’m in.  And how dearly I love it’s members.

Wordless Wednesday

I LOVE EGGPLANT PARMESAN!!!

Waiting for More

There is a spring in my step this morning because in my family room, there is this:

And there is this:

 

That, my friends, is my brand new microfibre sectional.  And my beautiful new occasional chair.  They were delivered Friday morning, and I am still surprised when I am greeted by them each morning.  Now, I can tell you that the man and I have waited a long time for these new pieces, and we expect them to last a while.  And we dropped a pretty penny on them.  But, as I look at these pictures, I see just how expensive decorating is, because I see that there are not enough toss pillows on the couch.  And I would like a new lamp.  Look at my sad lamp:

Isn’t it just screaming to be put out of it’s misery? 

Look at that coffee table…doesn’t it appear too small?!  I’ll wait…go back and look at that first picture…

…waiting…

See?  Isn’t it dwarfed by the massive (and might I add super-d-dooper comfy) couch? 

–As a side note, I’ve already left an impression of where my butt sat for 2 hours Friday.  Hey, I was sick, and I was tired, and it was Friday.–

And go back (just once more, I promise) and look at the windows.  We don’t have a need for privacy, but wouldn’t they look just so much more dramatic with some silk curtains?  Maybe a nice plaid.

Doesn’t it just seem like the more you have, the more you want?

I’m going to take a deep breath, and forget about finishing off this room for now.  When the man and I moved into this home, we knew it was our forever home.  And we knew that we would take years, and years (and possibly years) to complete it. 

And we enjoy the memories of the two of us eating on tv trays while seated on the floor, with a small tv 5 feet away, also on the floor, because we had no furniture.  And we laugh about how we used to sit on the floor, and work together for hours on our budget, with an ancient PC, which sported an enormous on/off button right on it’s front side.  That on/off button was so enormous in fact, that every time our chocolate lab, Coco, came in the room to join us, he would flop down with a grunt, right next to that PC on the floor, and turn the flippin’ computer off.  Without our work saved.  Hours of work, unsaved, and down the drain.  Good times.  We can laugh now. 

–As a second side note, I heard on the radio today that those who are able to delay gratification are more intelligent.  So now you see how smart I am.– 

Those are fun things to look back on.  And building our home together is a fun thing to do.  I don’t think I would want to just do it all, all at once, and have it done with.  Wouldn’t that take some of the fun out of it?  Out of wanting, and planning, and saving, and then finally getting what you’ve worked for?  I sure think so.  Heck, if we’d gotten this sectional back when we first wanted it, we wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the fun way the dark moss green velvet faded in the sun to a rusty brownish green.  We wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the way the babies all spit up all over it.  Or how that old sofa skirt came unstapled after 11 years (you’ll notice I learned from that and our new sectional is skirtless.  Oh, I am very smart, indeed).  Yes, it has been fun.  So I can wait for my curtains, and my lamp, and my new coffee table. 

I might get the pillows, though.  Hey, you gotta live a little.

Play Ball!

Saturday was William’s first baseball game of the fall season.  Seein’ as how most six year old boys are unable to throw well enough to get the ball to reach the plate, let alone get it in the strike zone, the coaches pitch to their own teams.  This is a big step up from T-ball.  I think the game lasts five innings, so I expected my William to get to bat once or twice. 

Unfortunately, I missed his first at-bat.  I was late because I had to pack the lunch, the water, the sunblock, feed and dress the baby, and get the daughter ready for dance class.  Oh, and then there was the cleaning-up-of-the-pee on the bathroom floor.  WTH?  Why is it that there seems to either be something gross in the toilet, or something gross on the floor every time I walk into one of my bathrooms?  It is like a booby trap…I walk into the bathroom, lift up the lid and SURPRISE! there is a present in there for me.  You’d think by now I’d learn and it wouldn’t be such a shocker. 

Anyway, back to baseball…

So I missed the first at-bat.  The poor little guy struck out.  But just as I made it to the field, he was up to bat again. 

Strike one.

Strike two.

And strike three.

Head down, he drops the bat and walks back to the dugout.  My heart broke a little right then.  I watched as a few of the other kids got base hits and ran the bases and a couple others struck out.  I’m sorry to say I breathed a little sigh of relief when some of the other kids struck out, too.  Horrible, I know, but at least he wasn’t the only one.  Hey, it’s all in the interest of conformity people.

Then, during defense (do you call it defense in baseball???), William played catcher.  That’s a lot of gear.  He looked a little uncomfortable as he hobbled to his spot behind home plate.  But doesn’t he look cute?!

I’m not sure he could actually see out of that mask…he kept adjusting it, and yanking on it.  Anyhoo…

Another inning went by and he got to bat again at the top of the fifth.  I knew this would be his last shot to get a hit.  Camera ready, I stood poised to capture his big moment, and said a little prayer that he could just get one little bitty hit. 

Strike one.

Strike two.

At this point, I’m practically begging God to PLEASE let him hit it, just let him hit it.  And I put my camera down, so I could watch my little boy, and not miss it if he did hit it. 

He stood there, ready for the pitch.  

The pitch came, he swung and he hit it.  He actually hit it.  I jumped to my feet – my heart was in my throat and tears in my eyes as I watched him run to first base, where he stood, biting his lip and smiling, ready for the next play.  I couldn’t have been more proud of him than I was in that moment.  And I couldn’t help but feel so lucky that he was my little boy.  No, he didn’t score the winning run, and he didn’t do anything that 20 other boys didn’t do that day, too.  

 

But just five years ago, I wondered if he would ever be able to play baseball.  If he would have enough coordination, or strength, or speed.  Now I sit here in the stands, the proudest one in the crowd, knowing what that little boy has been through, and what a tiny little miracle that hit was.

Thank you God.  Thank you for every day miracles.

Spud

I must preface this short story with the following:  Ella says ONE word, and that one word is “mama.”  Of course there is no better one-and-only word to have in your repertoire, so I am content to hear her say mama and nothing else.  However, she does call her father Mama, which is annoying, too.  We have tried to get her to say dada, with no luck.  Now on to the story…

After the kids went to school today, Ella and I had a couple hours to burn here at the house, so we got out the potato head and put together the crazy fellow you see here.  In the past, Ella has not taken notice of the fact that there is an actual face on the potato.  But that all changed this morning.  When I was done creating my masterpiece potato face for her, I showed it to her.  It was like a lightbulb went off in her precious little noggin, and she smiled and said “Daddy.”  No, I’m not kidding.  

Of course I laughed and told her how smart she is (is that so wrong?) and pinched her little cheeks.  And I couldn’t wait to get this posted so that Daddy could read it.  Is that so wrong?  

 

Smile Daddy!  I love you!

Tidbits from ‘Round Here

Nothing very exciting or interesting going on ’round here, but I do have a few little odds and ends from Kristen-town.

1.  I found Barbie’s torso and arms.  Still no ant heads, though.

2.  It was my brilliant (did I ever mention that I’m brilliant?) idea to buy 200 daffodil bulbs for autumn planting.  I was so excited to get started.  So excited.  I got started.  Um…it’s going to take a LONG time to plant 200 daffodil bulbs.  I started out measuring the depth of each hole, making sure I was at the perfect depth, pulling out all kinds of rocks and such from the soil.  By the time I had gotten about 50 done, ”good enough” was my motto.  I had broken my spade in half, the gardening claw I was using was bent, and I resigned myself to the fact that some of the bulbs just might not be planted to the suggested depth.  And we’ll just see if they come up in the spring.  And hey, I’ll just throw a couple inches of mulch on top and there you go, they’ll be deep enough.  I’ve only got another 135 bulbs to go…

3.  Pretty darling first-day-of-school pictures from last week…

 

4.  Saw a couple of turtles in the back yard, ahem, ‘wrestling,’ ahem, this weekend.  It’s a slow process folks.  There wasn’t a whole lotta movement.  In fact, the female was completely inside her shell, and the male kept trying to bite her.  Now that I think about it, it was kind of disturbing.  Yep, there’s nothing like a little turtle sex to liven things up. 

5.  Let the sickness begin.  We were in school for THREE DAYS before the first sick day in our house.  The virus is just picking us off, one by one.  The only one left untouched by this one is the man, as usual.

6.  The Hokies pulled off a victory this weekend.  The game wasn’t being televised, so we paid $5 to be able to view the game online.  We watched the game on a teeny tiny screen, all of us but the baby, huddled around the coffee table.  Now this is dedication, people.

7.  I bought an athletic supporter and cup for baseball for my 6 year old this weekend.  That was a little wierd.  Anyhoo, when he got home from school, he really wanted to put it on.  He came struttin’ out of his room with nothing but an undershirt and his cup + supporter on.  He wanted to make sure he had it on correctly.  When he turned around to go back in his room, I couldn’t help but smile.   

8.  Kate started jazz this weekend.  There isn’t a whole lot that is cuter than watching a bunch of 7 year old girls shakin’ it to the music.     

9.  I was doing laundry today, moving clothes from the dryer to the “laundry chair” as I like to call it, and when I came back to the laundry room, found Ella here:

 Now that is pretty cute, too, eh?

And that’s the scoop around here.  Have a warm, fuzzy, lint-free day!