Kissing the Castle---Who needs the Blarney Stone!

    I am in the midst of nursing two sick, one cranky, birds back to health.  Did I also mention that I am also helping my HS senior fill out college applications?  Oh, yes and a two tweens on two different planets.  One husband working his butt off and me?  Well I am getting older and its colder so I am hanging on to the hopes of something fun.  Okay one of my son's teacher's was arrested for assault that made me happy--she deserved it!  Problem is the school still let her teach.

  So what do I have to cling to?  My trip next spring to Ireland!  My best friend went several times to Ireland in college and listening to her it sounds like a place I could move to and call home.  Of course I would want to live in a castle with some kind of rodent protector....and an elevator...yes I know I am pushing it, but living in a castle would either give me nightmares and pain from the drafts..or maybe it would be a magic castle where I would turn into a woman of the Manor who found secret passages interlaced with old notes stuffed into walls.

    Unfortunately my mom beat me to Dublin...she picks up and just goes places..but was only there for a couple hours.  So the next couple months I will be trying to find a route through Ireland with maybe a stop in England.  Any hints, suggestions, let me know.  Travel guides are great, but hearing the ups and downs of a country from someone who has been is much more informative! 

Ban on Soda? ONLY IN NYC...

America's kids are fat. NYC's Mayor Michael Bloomberg thinks he knows the reason.  Kids consuming too much soda.  Bloomberg banned all sodas and other sugared drinks bigger than 16oz from being sold at restaurants, cafeterias, and movies, and fast food places.

 I was stunned.  Thoughts of the Prohibition era, raced through my mind.  Instead of alcohol, police would be checking for 2 liter bottles of Diet Coke, hidden under jackets, jammed into mega purses or covered by blankets and hidden in a stroller.

Yes, I am exaggerating, but to me having the luxury to drink a soda when and where I want is part of the American Dream...for life, liberty, and the freedom to have as much soda as I want.

  My love/addiction for this mixture of chemicals and water will probably have my body preserved for 30 years after my death.  In fact before I got married my husband promised that no matter what happened to us financially, I would always have Diet Coke to drink.  Scary huh?

At this point though,  Bloomberg isn't focusing on diet drinks.  Bloomberg is more concerned with diet soda's tastier, sugary, syrupy sister, regular soda sold in containers that hold more than16oz.

Raising 3 children I constantly told them the bad side effects of drinking soda;(caffeine, cost of sodas) as I popped the tab on a Diet Coke can, and began drinking.  This of course did nothing but make my children want to drink soda more.

 My kids were at least six years old before they were allowed to have a couple sips of soda in my house.  Sodas were reserved for birthday parties, eating out, and Grandma's house.  (There was no way I was going to pass up a weekend get away with my husband over the kids consuming a couple of cans of soda.)  Even now, at age 17, 12, and 11, I know my kids generally consume two cans of diet soda a week.

Can those extra ounces of regular soda be the key to America's rising childhood obesity?  I doubt it!

This government ban is stepping into a place it doesn't belong.  How do they plan on enforcing this ban?  Tasting every child's 16 oz cup to make sure it is a diet drink? Would a police officer stand guard over the free refill soda fountain at Chucky Cheese? Is the government willing to give me the extra money it takes to buy three smaller sodas instead of just buying one large drink at the movies?

There are so many other options that make sense than banning 16 oz sodas.  Bring back recess, or gym every day during the school year,   Talk more about healthy eating during school hours.

The real culprit to childhood obesity is the countless hours kids spend watching television and playing video games.  My kids recently got banned  for one night from t.v., video games, and computers.  After whining for 15 minutes (that has to burn calories too), they all three decided to go outside and play a game.  They stayed outside until dark, and only complained when they had to come inside.

Banning anything when it comes to food seems absurd. The government is becoming the Nanny Nation, stepping into a role that the founders of our country probably never even considered. If the government is regulating foods in the interest of out children, shouldn't the next attack be on the go to babysitter of choice..t.v.?

Banning television for 3 hours a day would cause a nation of panicked parents, but it would make America's children healthier.




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An accident occurs!

Accidents happen. I joke about it all the time.  Nothing could prepare me for the shock of hearing that my 17 yr-old son, and his 2 siblings were in a wreck.  Thank God no one was hurt, just really shaken up...me included.  My son's car was hit in the back passenger side door, right where my daughter was sitting.

I was never so glad that my son was driving an SUV!  I don't care about the extra gas, or possible complications from my son driving an SUV, the benefits were obvious when I made it to the crash site!  

My son's 2002 SUV had a minor dent in the side door.  The other driver was not so lucky.

The fact that the accident happened on school grounds, when my son was following "the designated driving lane" bothers me the most. The principal, secretary and staff said they weren't even aware that an accident had occurred.I guess the five floor to ceiling windows are just there to make the school look better. 

It must be a conspiracy!  Maybe the school paid the driver to slam into my son's car so I would quit airing the school's dirty secrets.  Okay even I'll admit this theory is far-fetched...but the thought keeps crossing my mind.

Drive safe BIG cars, and try to avoid the idiot in the car beside you who is texting while talking! 

Turning the big 40!

Some trips you don't have to go anywhere.  Yes, it sounds crazy but it's true.  My husband and I are planning a  it trip next spring to England and Ireland.  As I looked at the maps and read other people opinions about what place I had to visit, my eldest son came up and gave me a hug.

This trip would happen just a month or two before he graduated High School.  My instant thought was should I stay home so I can be with him every last moment before college?  The answer was so clear and obvious that it hurt.

My son has already started on his own journey.  He is (quickly?) becoming a man.

Dance Moms...Abby's a Pain

My 11 year old daughter is addicted to Dance Moms.  I record the show and then, when she bugs me enough we watch the show.  I use to enjoy the  bickering, the dancing and of course the DRAMA.  it finally got to me, made me mad enough to turn off the show and send my daughter out of the room.  It was the episode where Paige's foot was broken and Brooke's back was hurting.

Abby kept pushing for Brooke to do her dance even though she was in enough pain to cry and require use of a T.E.N.S unit ( a system often used for chronic pain).  Look I live with severe nerve pain that started in my childhood.  Pain strong enough that I was willing to amputate the first affected limb.  I wouldn't wish this on anyone (okay maybe on one key political figure).

Abby constantly berates Brooke on this and that, saying she doesn't have what it takes to be a professional dancer.  If so, why, except for ratings,would you take the chance of having a daughter who grows up to be in chronic pain?  So Abby Lee can get her name out?  She has Lifetime and her big mouth to do that.

No body can accurately judge how much pain someone is in, let alone what one misstep might cause it to permanently plague her.  Sometimes you just can't push through the pain because "every dancer has pain."(Abby Lee)  I think the reason these kids cry so much is because their "teacher" is the biggest pain of them all.

What do you think...should Kendall have been allowed back into the studio?

Kick in the Backside..college time

I have been in a battle against my son's school for so long that I failed to notice the calendar.  Yes, I know the date (generally), I just happened to miss the interview with college plastered on this weekend.

Time to look at colleges?  How far away is that school?  My husband who seems blissful unaware of  how this affects ME, just brings it up in simple phone conversation.  He wants to leave a day early.   

I guess it's a good thing I'm staying home.

My son will make the choices.  It's his time to make the decisions.    

Did he have to choose colleges that are so far away?

School Carpool, Senior Year,....and final justice!

Most of my blogs have been lost in space, which is great for this time of year, school carpool lanes.  I don't have the luxury of erasing my history with the teacher who likes to sit literally on the front bumper of my V-8 ML500.....okay bad grammar here....notice the V-8 part of the car, SUV, and about 7 years old...(car and teacher's apparent age equivalent)...who else would keep up this kind of hate to hate relationship for so long?  Well me.

I got a break from aforementioned teacher last year in December when my oldest son,  finally had the money to pay for his "new to him" car. He saved me from the afternoon traffic nightmare by driving himself and his siblings home. I only had to drive the morning shift!  This luxury is over.

I counted on at least one full year, his Senior year,  of freedom from the daily treachery of driving!  I wouldn't have to deal with  waiting, pushing, honking, finger pointing and gesturing!  He is a Senior, home stretch, he drives safely enough that I have sent him to pick up his siblings.  So it felt like a slap to the face when I found out that he would leave the HS at noon to head to the local college!  Why can't he be simultaneously in two places at once?  Is college that important?

Doesn't my son care more about me?   Or does he desperately want to see me in jail for a finale to this feud? Eye for an Eye kind of justice?

My husband gave me the go ahead to give the teacher a gentle push, and in the same breath, said he and the kids would be fine with me in jail. (Really? who would pick up the kids then?)  He also assured me 2 visits at the prison, before the quick divorce.

There was also one other request,  if I am going to commit a felony-- to please have the desperately dirty deed done, before my 40th birthday --October.  (Saving him the cost and drama of dealing with a wife who desperately wants to do something MEMORABLE for the big 40!)

So what will I do?

 Not sure!

 Senior Orientation is Mandatory for graduation!,  The over-empowered, bumper-sitting, conniving  teacher; (the only teacher my son has for class at the HS)  and I will meet face to face Monday inside the school.

 I can't bring my car in the auditorium,  but I have my 400 pound, hill climbing,  bone-crushing,  25 -miles an hour wheelchair-- locked and loaded.

My secret life

My daughter saw an ad in the local newspaper advertising for a cubby reporter for a small town about thirty miles from here.  Her enthusiasm was infectious as I thought about my days working for newspapers and regional magazines.

"Mom you would actually have a paying job!'she stated.

I actually considered it, for about 10 min. and drove my husband crazy. The thought of having a byline again was intriguing, but then a quick reminder from my husband about how much an article was worth, immediately shutdown any thoughts of responding to the ad.

 You see, I'm past the point most moms stay home. Sometime around 3rd grade most parents shift back into what my kids call "real work".  With my big mouth, and frequently expressed opinions combined with a bad arm... I don't do well at the average job.  I don't do well with the role of June Cleaver either.

I don't cook, don't do laundry, so like my kids often ask, what do I do while they are away?  Sometimes questions are better left unanswered.  Maybe I really am a spy with a bionic arm that beats away the bad guys, all without breaking a sweat or missing a lunch date.

Killer Sleeping Pills...Public beware!

A Senator in D.C. got away with a hit and run, thousands report themselves eating at night, and others don't even remember having "relations" with spouses.  So why then should I be surprised that I too would fall prey to the horrible effects of a sleeping pill?
 Honestly, I have done the binge eating and cooking in the middle of the night (luckily my husband caught me before I burned the house down), sleepwalking, yeah got that too, but two nights ago I got a new side effect of sleeping pills: sleep writing!  Public beware!  

Now before you yawn and click away into another part of the web,  read, or try to, the CarlsbadCaverns posting.  My first attempt at writing while not being awake. (It's around three a.m.  currently..so how do I describe this posting...maybe I just need a better sleeping pill!)

Seriously, my daughter and I were walking by my office when I had a brief recollection about writing something.  I told my 11-yr-old daughter this, and though she too was used to me sleepwalking thought  me sleep writing was hysterical.  She pictured me as Zombie like arms stretched straight out, fingers just dropping from my wrist as I wrote.  Wrote what?

The previous posting.   What its about...well even I'm not sure....but I will leave it listed in case I ever need to get away with something purely evil I will have an excuse. (Yeah, right)

A reasonable excuse will come in handy in about a month when once again I am thrown into the carpool lane of two different schools.  Hopefully this year no one will get hurt!

Carlsbad Caverns and other "Distractions"

I went on a journey these past months that wasn't planned.  In order to sidestep a crater I fell into a hole that while beautiful, and unending in depth, the climb out was fraught with fallen trees, bats, flesh biting insects and the loss of one of my traveling companions.  It wasn't his choice to be flying solo across the country; but without any other income sometimes your choices are already chosen before they are presented to you.

I have reached the surface of the hole and when looking down on it from my wheelchair, I have to stand and see if that hole that encapsulated me for so long was really that minuscule!  I stand up, a blessing that is still offered to me and once again look at the hole only this time it is hard to even call it a hole, more like a simple innocuous break in the sandy land that surrounds the area.

Free from its boundaries, and my own I will write to tell more of a different journey.  The journey of loss, holding down the fort while my better half travels to places I will never see, the sight of watching my oldest son stretch out his raven like wings to begin his own journey, and last the knowledge that with each day the person who has raised me and then 6 others will slowly forget my existence.

Sometimes a pit is meant to take you away and let you wallow and bemoan your existence.  Other times the pit opens up to a hidden treasure of perfectly formed rocks made from million of years of being dripped on, one drop at a time.  Each person has to decide what to do when a pit has incapsulated them.  Most will step over the small hole and never even know of its existence.

I-77 Watch Out

My son makes his debut solo 4 hour drive up the interstate on Monday.  He successfully brought me down from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Charlotte area a little over a week ago.  He drives well--obviously learning from my mistakes--but he will be picking up his best friend.

I remember my first solo drive on the interstate and the way I helped a suspect successfully flee the police.  It wasn't on purpose,  but somehow concentrating on going 65 with my music blaring I somehow missed the scores of people pulling off to the right as a car was speeding past me with a police cruiser trying to close the distance.  I gave the suspect a great lead because when I finally realized what was happening I danced with the police as when he pulled into the right lane I did too.  Then trying to help I pulled back into the  left lane when a honk from the police car and fingers told me to stay where I was so he could get around me.  The worst thing that could have happened?  No, that was my next trip.

Safety and sanity to my son and all the drivers around him on Monday.

I

Amazing ...My son has turned into me--teenage carpool hater

I took my son with me up to the mountains and watched as he enjoyed taking over the car and flying up the interstate.  He did well, I wasn't sure he could do it but he did.  I thought all restrictions would finally be gone...he was a great driver....until.
I sent him to pick up his younger brother from camp.  My son turned into an outraged underage driver who if the cost of insurance wasn't so high--would have probably followed my lead and started ramming other people.  When he came home with his younger brother in tow his face was red and he was trying to explain to me how frustrating it is to wait in line.  I shook my head and said haven't you heard me rant and rave these past 8 years?
I guess it is just my luck that I get a son who can drive and have only one year I can have him spare me the carpool lanes.  Senior year in high school now includes freshman courses at the local college. Leaving me to another 6 years of driving my other 2 children.

Breast-fed @ 8--Time to Go

No this isn't a friendly reminder that breakfast is at 8 a.m. There is self-serve though if your interested...
The cover of Time magazine has the picture of a totally fit mom(though she looks like a model) breastfeeding her 8 year old son.  She is standing up and the kid in camouflage pants lips around her breast face to the camera. (Being honest here--I would hate to be that kid going to school--talk about a momma's boy!)
I first saw the photo on an I-Phone.  I'm sure more people will Google the picture than buy the magazine.  Skip the whole issue of whether a woman should breastfeed an eight year old.  You also have to skip the other problem of would they really show a chubby or dowdy mom on the front cover?  If breastfeeding a kid until he/she is 8 yrs old makes us that slim--I might consider it. (--come on kid, -other side--I just had a milkshake-- and I see some cellulite on the left side).    
Wow if I can come up with this stuff, I wonder what late night television is doing.
If print is dying, please die gracefully.  Time magazine, the name itself meant something.  Yes it was edgy at times, but not such a flagrant attempt to save itself from becoming lost in the digital world.
Does the woman on the cover need help--probably...but I would say she is easier to fix/save than the magazines that use to be fanned out on someone's coffee table.

Road Rage Hits Dallas --Escalade vs. Prius can't you guess who won?

The front page of the local paper touted the information that an Escalade was on top of a Toyota Prius. I dropped my purse on the floor gleefully wanting to read the story.  Was it a my SUV  is bigger  than your gas saving mini car that the government is trying to force down our necks? My next question was wow what kind of ground clearance must an Escalade have to successfully land on the hood of the Prius?

I thought of all kind of scenarios. The Escalade going the full 55 mile speed limit when the Prius coughed and jumped its tiny self out onto the road right in front of the SUV.  Regardless of all the explanations I could concoct in my head none of them were true,  then again I didn't quite read the headline right either.

While the officers called this incident "extreme", it wasn't as extreme as my first misread.  Instead what had happened was that the owner of the Escalade was standing on the roof of the Prius kicking the windshield and side mirrors. Even as this 61 yr-old man was pulled off the Prius by the police, the Escalade driver was able to kick in the door of the Prius. According to "some witness who doesn't know much about the cost of fixing cars" the Prius could be a total loss.  If that statement isn't confusing enough (even I could guess what it would take to have the car fixed--a mechanic and some money)--consider this closing fact, the Prius driver wasn't some young 20's Earth savvy saver, the Prius driver was 69.

Orlando, Magic Kingdom, Road Rage, Golf Carts

Cars and golf carts kept swerving around each other as the place we were staying.   This was the first year we went to Orlando during Spring Break and both my husband and myself were starting to regret the decision.  We were staying in a condo/time share unit located less than five miles from the Magic Kingdom, and realtors were waving their magic wands as they enticed people into buying a time-share unit.

You could definitely tell who was an owner vs. the realtor's prey.  Having established that I have  road rage, I passed the driving over to my husband.  The realtor on the golf cart, long lean and blonde, must have an incredible life insurance policy!  She would continue non stop talking as her cart started going head to head with an SUV.

She would wave her arm with the heir of a beauty queen expecting that she had right of way.  She must have felt invincible, because with one arm  on the driver she would keep her spiel going(about the golf course, pools, weight room) as her possible tenets braced for the crash.

Since I wasn't the one driving, I thought I could ignore the battle going  between real cars, and these white golf carts. Just look at a map of the complex, I told myself as I saw another golf car trying to get through, or maybe I should decide which park to visit.  By the third day there I lost it and reached over and honked the horn.  I held on to it as long as I could before my husband bumped my arm off the horn.  Where I would have been just as happy to bump all these carts out of the complex.

By the fifth day of vacation my husband quit telling me to relax and starting to say things the children in the back shouldn't hear (not saying they haven't heard them before, or that they will be saved from obscenities in the future).
The day before we went home, the golf carts starting looking like golf balls to me--one hit-one in the hole -I win.  Only 17 more carts to hit to win the game, because there are 18 holes in a  round of putt-putt.
It was the last day before my husband succumbed to the power of my engine.  The changing and swerving on invisible lanes had me yelling for more, while the kids were eerily quiet.
  Their world was no longer the same, their Dad had turned to the dark side.  He no longer cared if he scared the people on the cart, and he climbed up a berm in an effort to be free from this place.  The funny thing was, about three cars followed in our wake.

I'm Your Favorite!

Today is voting day and we have some big issues on the ballot.  Now before you go off to sleep I could mention one is about making marriage as only between a man and a woman, toll roads, and a ton of guys who have called me and said hey pick me!  The reason I even bring this up is that these political calls are telling me the exact same thing my children.   Who I like/love the best.

It came down to a shouting match as I took a short, and I do mean short walk with two of my kids.  At 17 and 11, I thought we were past this point, but as I and several of my neighbors heard, my 11 year old daughter put up her fists and was willing to attack her brother who now towers us at close to 6 feet.  All this over who I loved the most, vs. who their father loved the most!  I thought we had been fair but not in their eyes.  Anyway, back to David vs Goliath in order to stop my daughter from advancing while my son just tipped his sun glasses down a bit I stuck my bright pink cane between the two of them.

I then boomed one, two, three....and when I said "Fight" and to my surprise they took off at a fast clip racing each other to a basketball goal.  It took them a minute or two to turn around and realize what I said.

"You really want me to fight with my sister?  Kinda unfair don't you think?" my son said.

"Mom he could really hurt me!"

"I guess the matter is settled then, your Dad and I love each of you," I said sounding like a parenting book.

Bored with the answer we resumed our walk.  In my head I calculated out of all three children who probably has the most legitimate complaint.  If any child should fill left out it would be my youngest.  He recently came up to me before school and complained that his stomach hurt.  After I told him he still had to go, he vomited near my feet.

Luckily it wasn't too disgusting, but it was still too much for me. I handed my son a roll of paper towels, a can of  Clorox wipes and a garbage bag.  I explained that  if I helped him it would be a lot more to cleanup.  My 10 year old son looked at me through wet lashes and started cleaning up.  He then took a shower, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes.  When I heard him coming down the stairs, I poked my head out of the room and asked him if it was all cleaned up.  He nodded his head and I came out of my room sniffing as I went.

I spent the rest of the day letting him cuddle and watch television.  Unlike politics, I don't think parents have permeant favorite children, instead it is who is behaving the best that day.

Caught by the Cops--My Son is Starting Early

DANCE MOMS --PHILLY VS. MIAMI

I thought anybody could fill Abby Lee's place.  Well after seeing the first show of Dance Moms Miami, I realized I was wrong!  Dance Moms Miami was so bad I didn't even finish watching the show.  Spin- off shows are almost never as good as the first, but this one was so bad I can't believe Lifetime would even air it!

Now to be honest I was ecstatic when Abby Lee started sobbing in the auditorium when her favorite dancer forgot her solo. Abby couldn't maintain any sense of decorum, nor did she care; she just got up and left. 

 After a heated encounter with Holly (the most even tempered of the moms), the next camera shot shows Abby Lee in a cab heading to the airport and making a statement that all the girls would do well without her.

I really thought this might be the end of Abby....and for a couple of weeks thought she would be no great loss. 

 As Abby says "Everyone is replaceable."

 That is, unless you are on television.  

The Ring of love (love after 15 years requires a ring)

Bonnie my 25 year old love bird.  He has now joined the traveling convoy.  Bonnie's first trip was to Orlando. a nice 10 hour drive.  He did much better than his seasoned counterpart (Roxie)!

Picture is in reference to the March 13, 2012 blog about love requiring a ring.   

I missed the Grim Reaper Again---By Mere Seconds

I almost died again yesterday!  If my husband could get a life insurance policy on me I would be really concerned.  Twice in three months--(even if you are not good with math you should know this is almost too close to be coincidental)--I almost died due to food.

I'm not allergic to peanuts or shellfish or the things most people think of when you say food allergy. I am allergic to cheese (think molds like blue & swiss cheese).  Not being able to eat cheese coupled with the fact that I am a self-imposed, vegetarian in denial, makes life hard.  I do know there are two things I can safely eat, ice cream and fudge.  Okay forget the fudge, all I need to eat is ice cream.

Regardless, yesterday I grabbed a potato chip out of the pantry, and  bit off a microscopic piece.  Within seconds my throat and airways closed. I was going down for the count and I didn't even swallow!  Thanks to God and the makers of the  Epi-pen I was able to stop the anaphylactic reaction.  No major damage, although if given the chance my husband might try to say I lost oxygen to my brain and am now no longer capable to fulfill my vows (i. e. clean house, fix meals, help kids....).

I do have a point- Really!  HERE IT IS: starting next week  April 30, 2012 there will be a minimum of 3 blogs a week.(MWF)   Now my 2 loyal followers will be guaranteed something to read when they check-in.  No more hit and miss!  It's time to step up--- time to produce something besides children, traffic accidents and medical bills.

Just give me a couple of days to catch my breath, and in return I promise to blog regularly about things that will have you in a sound slumber faster than any sleeping pill!

P.S.
Can I also start my ice cream count over again?  I did almost die!?!

The Pants Don't Fit so I Won't Wear Them!

Everyone who has a child knows what it's like on a school morning.  The frantic pace is kicked up a notch when for the 5th time this year they can pay $1 and wear blue jean shorts.  I was prepared for my daughter, had her one pair ready, and didn't think twice about my youngest son.  He had blue jean shorts everywhere in his room--no problem.

My son was trying on his third pair of jean shorts when he declared "they would fit but the hole is too far away from the button!"


The laughter only went on to make things worse for him.  Our weekly milkshake ritual had played havoc on my family, and our clothes! (I can't even keep count of the buttons that have popped off over the past five months--obviously a design flaw.)  I grabbed a pair of dirty uniform shorts and threw them into the bathroom.  My son peeked out of from behind the bathroom door, having to make sure his siblings weren't around before he astounded me.

"Mom since it's the last day of school can we get a shake on the way home?" he asked with the innocence only a child could have or the indifference that men have to weighty issues.

"Not today," I replied tugging on his shorts to check the strength of the button.

I barely thought about this morning again until after buying new clothes for my daughter for our upcoming trip.  She asked if we could stop at the new frozen yogurt store.  At  this store you fill your own giant cup with as much yougurt as you want then add toppings from Lucky Charms and M&M's to the good old fashioned chocolate and caramel sauce.

The Battle on Ice Cream week one:

Ice Cream and Frozen Yogurt Score 1 point
I the loser gain 1 pound

I will  live to fight the ice cream demon another day, but will have to remember about ice cream's  caloric side kick Frozen Yogurt.

The problem with ice cream!!!

Today is the first day of April, and it is my intent to cut out ice cream to once a week.  There should be some great prize, if I persevere and drop my( almost ) daily intake.   Once you quit moving around as much, the weight creeps on.  Okay it didn't creep on, was an open assault on my stomach.

I have to admit I am spurred on by my husbands loss of over 20 pounds while celebrating 3 birthdays in March.  Also our 20th wedding anniversary is less than  8 months away.   More than anything, I see this as a challenge.  Each morning he cheerfully announces his weight loss, while I look at my waist and blame my mother!  Sorry Mom, I can't be an adult and take ownership of my ice cream addiction.

Here's to starting and finishing  a new challenge!

Should I kick it off with a milkshake?

Plagiarism is Fine

ABC's national morning broadcast stunned me yesterday.    It wasn't  because of dead bodies laying barely covered in yellow tarps, or the fact that another teenager found a gun and shot and killed his friend.  No, in its own way it's much worse.   The anchor's of the morning news show were talking about the internet and how anyone could post something on the internet.  (I agree look at me) 

These anchors whom audiences trust, went on to say that because of the popularity and accessibility of social media, stated that there wasn't  a need to give credit to either an author or photographer.   Why should you when you are only going to post it on Facebook, Twitter,  or Pinterest? 

These anchors  are fine with plagiarism.  High School seniors everywhere REJOICE.  They can copy anyone's work and claim it as their own. (Okay it's not like they haven't tried this before).  The issues of copyright and plagiarism  go hand in hand.  Without proper attribution to the author or photographer, we are left with an American public trusting undocumented writings, and people's opinions as fact.  (Think Wikipedia)

 I guess to  news anchor  not giving credit to a writer is normal and justified.  They have to be dressed and  have their makeup on in time to read the morning news off of a teleprompter.  They  deliver a story to millions based on the facts and information that someone else wrote.

Dance Moms-no longer just Abby Lee Miller

Abby Lee move over, Lifetime announced that coming in April there would be another show, Miami Dance Moms.  Abby Lee Miller will be doing some competing of her own. When a show draws in viewers like Dance Mom does, I should have been prepared for the announcement  of the new show.  Miami Dance Moms will probably have a similar winning combination.  For example, a caustic dance teacher combined with kids fighting to be the top dancer, and moms willing to do everything to help their child succeed.

As long as Lifetime doesn't end up with a dance show in every city;  the fans will eagerly watch another dance group.  Unlike the surprise hit Survivor which went into at least ten seasons, Dance Moms cast of characters will only make it another couple years, because there's one thing that money and fame can't stop...puberty.

Love after 15 years requires a ring! Doesn't it?

Love and rings generally equal marriage; but after 15 years with this guy it would just be disgusting!  He even has love in his name-think back to all the Harlequin romance novels you read, only to hide them under the bed or better yet tossed in the trash.  In the novels his name is some weird unused name like,  Drake, or Sebastian, or Sir Galahad the Gross.  Anything to get you to not run into a guy at work with the same name in the book.  I digress--my guy's name is Bonnie.  Yep, you heard that one right Bonnie!  His first true love was Clyde but after ten years her image and cruelty has faded and I am the one with whom he is enamored.

Okay, truth is he bites me; not little love bites either; but then again it's part of his nature.  Bonnie is my 25 year old love bird. The love there is real,  its always been there I just kind of forgot about how endearing and tenacious he can be when he wants to be.  Now if you don't own a bird you probably want get this-- but think of your dog who has gotten white around the eyes, and has a little problem standing up on cold days. Remember yet?

Birds have just as much personality, so it makes it just as hard to decide whether he has lived long enough, and whether it's cruel to keep him alive.  I can honestly say now that the only reason he is still around is because of me...and a ring.

I thought my little guy was a goner.  I even brought my teenager to drive me back if I became too hysterical to find my keys. (I did mention Bonnie had a mate)  I put him in a box with towels to cushion him and air holes and drove the 45 minutes to the avian specialist.

 After calming me down and telling me he needed antibiotics 6x a day(no problem I thought) and with a clear plastic ring around his neck he would be fine.  Bonnie didn't think so at first, and neither did I. When she brought him out with his new collar, I cried.  Acting as all birds do,  when he saw me watching he threw himself around the box and then would stay still until I left.
 Months past, he learned to swing upside down again, get out of his cage and overall just got better.  We  started to have fun together again (i.e. bite me, shred paper and chew on anything).

The down side is that he will wear the collar for the rest of his life.  Every now and then we take it off for a couple of days; but inevitably it has to go on to keep his wing safe.   So the collar stays and what may seem brutal to most  gave me back my bird.

I call it my ring of love.




  

Obama Comes to Town-Gas hits$4

On Wednesday President Obama came to visit Mt. Holly, N.C.  He came singing the praises of  Freightliner 's sale of its 1000th natural gas truck in November. ( Do you think he noticed that its March? ) He was also touting the praises of Daimler Trucks North America for its recent addition of 1000 jobs.

If he could have only taken the time to drive 3 miles down the road.  Literally, it is only three miles before you see the stark empty houses surrounding an inhabited one.   These subdivisions were basically done when Freightliner laid off half the town in 2008.

Everybody in Mt. Holly knew someone who was let go, but while some went to wait on unemployment  checks, others opted out of the uncertainy of working for Freightliner.  So yes it's great that they hired 1000 people,  but most of the "local folks " knew that eventually jobs would come back around, that is how Freightliner works.  Now the rush is to find finished houses to rent, not own, because you never know when Freightliner will flip the switch and cut the jobs off.

My views:
Just a side note:  Obama's constant extending of unemployment benefits didn't really benefit anyone except those that are lazy.  Trying to save everyone's house isn't the right answer either.  People not the government should be responsible for their own actions (like buying a bigger house than they could afford).  I would write more about Obama's visit to town--but right now I won't say anything because its not nice (and I don't want arrested).

Check out Obama's Energy Secretary's comments on how he would be thrilled if gas hit over $10 because then we(the gas guzzling public) would be forced to buy smaller cars, or maybe even walk to work.

Can teenagers write--without texting?

Just yesterday, a group of Juniors at a local High School took the A.C.T.,  paid for and mandated by the state of North Carolina.  To my son this was a  torture test, to me it was vindication.  Currently the North Carolina only requires half a year of English classes for Juniors and Seniors.  Having to take the A.C.T. will give North Carolina a more appropriate view of the skills, or lack thereof, these children are receiving in their final years of High School.

In the age of a new written language, specifically designed by today's teenagers through texting, the written form of English is going through a metamorphosis. The written and spoken forms of English have always adapted to the nuances of each generation, but the ability to express themselves adequately through the written word is in danger. Today's teenagers spend more time learning a second language than they do learning how to write papers, documents and other forms of communication that will be necessary in a business world.  

Regardless of what the state finds out from this mandated testing; I hope they realize how desperately they  need to bring back a full year of English / Writing for each school level. ;)

Bumper stickers-

  While I was growing up, bumper stickers were used to cover the rust spots on cars. Driving through a college campus once, I saw a 60's Beetle completely covered in stickers.  We've gotten smarter.( sometime after  the, "My Child is a Honor Roll Student" bumper sticker was made.)  The magnetic bumper sticker! In fact this weekend I saw one proudly stating that she was a  "Dance Mom." ( soccer moms are so passé)

During an election year bumper stickers supporting candidate choices are everywhere, and they aren't the magnetic kind.  These stickers are meant to stay.  Obviously they last through the election, but often go on to haunt the person 4 years later, when they can't deny their presidential pick.

I'm sure it comes down to cost, and if you are willing to make a" donation."  Just remember if you're not willing to shell out a couple extra bucks now for the "upgraded sticker", your choice may mock you later.

Dollywood healed me!

People say music heals the soul, at Dollywood it healed my legs!  Now if you are not from the South, or have never heard of Dolly Parton, just picture Dollywood as a theme park where the main attractions are country singing, square dancing and food.  For the younger group the fun is in watching the old people play bumper cars with their rented electric scooters.

Now before you blame me for making fun of the elderly, or worse yet, people in wheelchairs, let me tell you how Dollywood healed me. My parents invited my son and I to go with them to Dollywood, while we were vacationing in Pigeon Forge, TN.  Since my only other choice was entertaining a 5 year old in a hotel for 8 hours you can guess why I went.

 It was right about this time that I had resigned myself to the fact that any major walking (i.e. Wal-Mart) I would need to use an electric wheelchair.   I was still  self-conscious, but if I wanted to go I had to use the wheelchair.  I kept telling my best friend that people treated you differently when you are in a wheelchair,  and this trip to Dollywood gave me the proof I needed.

Later in the day at Dollywood, after many musical performances, both my son and I were tired of watching shows. That's when my Dad told me that I should take my son to the other side of the park to  the kiddie rides. My son hopped on my lap, hit the high speed button on my wheelchair and we made our way down to the rides.

My son was off my lap and being loaded onto an airplane ride before I even had stopped the wheelchair.  I watched from a distance as my son was spun in a slow circle.  The joy on his face was mesmerizing and his laughter infectious, and it only lasted for a minute.

When the ride ended my son didn't want to get off.  I asked nicely( at least once), and then yelled at my son to get off the plane. He wouldn't budge. I knewI had no choice but to physically pull my son off the ride. It was at this time that the few remaining parents noticed me, and more importantly the wheelchair.

 I turned off my chair.  I  stood up.

Everyone stopped stared, and gasped.

Actually the sound emitted from my audience was larger than a gasp,  more like the sound of a tornado sucking up houses or at least little kids.  They couldn't believe that I could stand.  I took advantage of the situation.

"I'm healed! I'm healed!" I shouted and shook each leg to prove my point.  "Great God Almighty I've been healed!"

Everyone evaporated, or more likely ran somewhere to hide.  The driver of the airplane ride handed me my fussing son.

 Laughing, I got back in the wheelchair with my son in tow, and took off for a different ride.







I

Dance Moms (Abby Lee Miller Dance Studio), Toddlers and Tiaras

You don't have to go far to hear about the show Dance Moms.  Now entering its second season on Lifetime it is the talk of moms everywhere.
If you haven't seen it, it's worth a watch.  Miss Abby is the owner, choreographer and "self-appointed" best dance teacher in the country. She definitely doesn't sugarcoat anything, and only gives attention to the  child that brings her the next first place trophy.  Her voice is a cross between a drag queen, and a chronic smoker.  Her catch phrase is that "everyone is replaceable."

This is a television show, but what is scary is that the shouting and berating of each child and parent is real.  Miss Abby often punishes these dancers (whose age ranges from the 7-13)  based on their parent's action. Professional dancers have a limited time to dance, and these girls' dancing careers might be over as soon as puberty hits.

Needless to say the constant fighting between the Dance Moms is where "the entertainment" begins.  Much like Toddler's and Tiaras, people are both critical and fascinated by how far mothers will go to get their child one step closer to being a celebrity.  I believe that the moms' from both shows  hope that if their daughters don't go on to be professional dancers, or the next Miss America (Toddlers and Tiaras) that maybe their brief television exposure will give them a ticket to Hollywood.

I guess I will have to keep watching to find out.

Excuses, Excuses ..

Well my thoughts of joining the school's parents board didn't last long.  Actually the plan to run for the board was thrown out the window the minute my husband threw out his back.  Yes, I know this is a weak excuse.  I can't deny it.  Three days into my husband's two week back battle, I realized that my low tolerance for clingy, helpless people ( not you sweetheart!) would not end well with the school.  My friends' fears were also that it my end my children's eligibility to go to the school. ( It's a charter school they can do that)

Just so you know, I will admit most of my flaws (actually just some ).  My husband and countless others can easily tell you the rest. That said, in order to make it to my 20th wedding anniversary, this post won't linger.

You can't say I haven't tried!

I  squeezed and surged my way through the dreaded line today.  Not looking at anyone directly, so they don't think I am letting them cut in line.  It's years of driving through this mess and pure intimidation that had gotten me there first, no I won't be nice and let the person in the KIA cut in. I want to swerve to the side grab two kids (preferably my own) and make it to through the next stop light.

The old saying is that "Opportunity Knocks", tonight it rang.  The school is in need of some help with parent relations, and are seeking applicants.  It does mean stepping out of the security of my SUV,  but it could be for the greater good.  The thought of possibly changing this fledging school and its problems, with the bonus of saving the lives of teachers,  how can I  say "no."

This way I can say I have tried every avenue (& street) to meet the administration half way.  Just to be safe I will probably ride in my three hundred pound wheelchair which can break toes quite easily (ask my husband) and quickly reach top speed.

Don't call the insurance company

Life moves on and out of fear of me being arrested for assault; I have gotten out of afternoon carpool duty.  If I had known that all it took was playing "Chicken " with a high school English teacher I would have done this years ago.

With worries that someday my foot might slip, my husband bought my 17 year old son...a used junker so that he can do the evening pick up.   This way it's a toss up as to who will get our family kicked off insurance coverage first.


If the worst should happen I could always try using my "Trump" card.  It's the bright blue placard that dangles from my rear view mirror.  The handicap sticker.  It is amazing how differently people treat you when you are in a wheelchair.  I'm lucky to be blessed with a wheelchair that at full speed can make  jogger run out of breath.

Just so you know, I have no vendetta against  teachers, my best friend is one and so are other members of my family.  Teachers have enough to do without playing traffic cop.

The power of a whistle...or so she thought

 It was her first year directing school traffic.  The petite red head thought she could control traffic because she wore the sacred whistle.   She didn't stand a chance against a mom who drove her kids to school for a living. It is a three hour a day commute, and I've had 5 years practice maneuvering through school gridlock.
Until she took over I had been a pretty low-key player in the school traffic.  I had and still have the mandated SUV with cute little stickers of my feathered family (parrot, lovebird, parakeet) on my back windshield.  Not very threatening, just another person in line.

Two months into the school year she started playing favorites.  Instead of letting cars go in the preordained fashion, she began to look into the cars and if she liked the driver they went first.  Now at this point you need to understand, how desperate parents become after waiting forty minutes in line, only to be stopped because you aren't on her good list.

I started to ignore her.  Simple enough, I thought.   She blew on that whistle until her face turned red. I just turned up my stereo and whipped around her. Next day, same thing except she caught up to me while my son was loading his backpack into the car.  She yelled at me through the window. I didn't even turn my head to look at her. I put my V-8 to use, leaving her standing there in shock.

Threatening letters and phone calls from the principal started coming home. The whistler got braver and started standing just inches away from my car. Blocking me with her pint-sized body worked for a couple days. Then she got lazy and left just enough room for me to get past her again.

  She then resorted to parking her perky backside on the bumper of my car! Finally a simple way to end this fight.   Revving my engine, I honked the horn and honking scaring her to the point that she slid off my car.

 Although she is still alive, I claim victory because she has passed her beloved whistle to someone else.
Now that you know most of the story,  I need to clarify that no kids were in danger and once she was gone traffic flowed freely.

I'll share my tips on getting through the line quicker next time.