Wow... Is it really already the end of the day? I can't really believe it, but alas the clock on my computer does state something past 11:30 p.m. which means its gearing to my bedtime... Ahhh... Bedtime... How I love and anticipate thee...

Had a normal day. The Little Gentleman and I woke up (or rather, he woke me up) and we spent 10 minutes snuggling and giggling while I did my best to finish waking up. Never said I woke up easily. Not the point. Anyway. We did some stuff this morning. I can't really remember. Not of importance. I know I kept pushing the liquids on him as I didn't want him dehydrated due to illness, and therefore we had first undies accident in like 3 weeks. Ah well... My fault as I didn't push the potty time while I pushed the liquids.

Took the Little Gentleman to his dad's house and went home. Had work an hour later and as I was waiting for The Ballerina to get out of school, my car started an annoying buzz. A buzz I had never heard. A buzz I hope to never hear again. The Buzz that I was low on gas. CRAP! I hate that! I literally came up with 24 cents towards gas until I got paid later that day. Thankfully I made it to work, to bank (with a minute to spare) and to gas station without running out.

At work I was suprised by The Boss Man pulling into the driveway just after us. He was there to pick up The Pre-Teen for an orthodontist appointment I was unaware of. Homework and piano practice later, The Pre-Teen was back and I had to manipulate her to getting to homework. Quite easy as she was up just last week until 10:30p.m. working on homework she never got finished. Remind her of that and she's running. The Ballerina then decided to draw and I read a bit of a book. While I was sitting on the couch, I thought I heard something. "Was that the garage door?" I pondered aloud. "Nope," The Pre-Teen responded. "I didn't hear anything." 5 minutes later. "Are you SURE that wasn't the garage door?" "Yup. I'm positive." 10 minutes later, The Ballerina and The Pre-Teen were singing when I said, "I know that's the garage door." The Pre-Teen started laughing and said, "You hear the strangest things." A second later, the lock on the door creaked and The Pre-Teen screamed. I busted out laughing. "I TOLD you I heard the garage door!" Their grandmother walked in calling greetings. "Sorry about that," she said. "I pulled into the garage about 15 minutes ago before realizing I forgot to pick something up at the pharmacy. I hope I didn't startle you too much." Laughing, I said, "I'm just glad I wasn't really hearing things!"

The grandmother informed me that she wasn't planning on coming until Wednesday (she lives 2 hours away) but because of other circumstances she was there early, giving The Ballerina a little stare. Confused, I asked if it was because of snow and she said, "Oh, didn't The Ballerina tell you?" "Tell me what?" I asked the 7 year old. Her response was to come over to me and bare her top two teeth - one of which had a significant chip in it. "My word, what happened?" I asked.

The Ballerina, with a sheepish grin on her face, said, "I was crawling face first down the stairs when I slid and hit my face on the tile before doing a somersault and landing on my back." Unable to contain my smile and giggles, I said, "Wow, you sure finished with a flourish." The grandmother arrived to bring her to the dentist tomorrow to see what needs to be done. Which means, I don't have to officially go to work until 5:45 p.m. The grandmother will take care of The Ballerina for the day and I would only be needed to get The Pre-Teen to her own ballet rehersal (The Nutcracker is coming up soon and they both have significant parts - well, as far as the general kids go, neither is the main lead or anything) which starts at 6:30 p.m. and is 20 minutes away. In addition to that, because Thursday is Thanksgiving, she will just hang out until she was originally going to go home which means that on Wednesday, if anything I will be responsible for just getting The Ballerina home from school. Whoo-hoo.

Today I am thankful for grandparents arriving early and giving me a few suprise hours off work.

And now, my back is killing me due to something going on (I think we're going on 8 days with back pain - somethings going on with a muscle)... which actually reminds me... a lesser thankful is for 7 year old toes who dig into knotted muscles and relieve some pain. I was in tears, but good tears. I showed my gratitute by winning a game of SORRY. : ) I'm that nice. And on that note...

~Peace

Thank God for Monday's

Wow... anyone ever believe they would actually her someone say that? Well, there you have it I just did. I enjoy Mondays. Mondays are the start of my work week, when I have something structured to do. As I have mentioned before, its difficult for me to make decisions there for trying to figure out what to do on the weekends is sometimes beyond me. In addition to that, The Little Gentleman only goes to see his dad on the weekends when it was been prearranged. My "weekend" without my son is Tuesday and Wednesday night. That was for a reason. I used to be busy on Tuesday night until 7:00 p.m. and when he would go to bed around 8:00 - 8:30 p.m., it wasn't fair to him that we wouldn't even get home until 7:30 p.m. and then he would have to turn around and go to bed without spending time with me. In addition to that, I work split shift on Wednesdays and work until 9:00 p.m. Again, it would have kept The Little Gentleman up past his bedtime, and I'm a mom who rather enjoys bedtime. I enjoy routines, especially ones that involve my child and his sleep. He's a little man who needs his rest. Therefore, it seemed appropriate to me that The Ex keep our son overnight those two nights. It also ensured that as I was working during the week that The Little Gentleman and I got to spend that extra time together. This weekend however, I am rather looking forward to dropping him off with his dad and spending an hour without him before heading to work.

This weekend has been a rough weekend due to him having a slight case of croup. The Little Gentleman was born at the beginning of August and two weeks later spent a week in the hospital with a Urinary Tract Infection (UTI). I believe I speak briefly on it in a previous post, and I would be willing to speak more on it later in its own topic, but for now, I'm just referencing. That winter we spent the majority of the winter feeling pretty o.k. - aside from him starting to teeth at 4 months and not cutting a tooth til six months. Then we got two rounds of rotovirus within a six week period. That was NOT FUN, however, that was the only illness until he was just over a year. (We did have one more trip ito the hospital in that time, in July on one of the hottest days of the summer, but again, that is DEFINATELY it's own topic of its self and would be wisely entitled, It Happened To Me). I can still remember the night. It was beginning of winter and The Little Gentleman had been running a slight fever all day. I put him down to sleep and an hour later, he was awake, coughing and crying. I was able to sooth him and get him to drink some water (thank goodness he loved his cups) and he went back to sleep. This was around 10:00 p.m. An hour later, he was awake again doing the same, this time with more bite to his cough. I got him back to sleep again and when he woke up a third time, around midnight, he was having trouble catching his breath as he was coughing and I was beside myself. I called his dad, who I knew was awake, and he came to get me and we got to the hospital. By now, I knew that he had croup for he had the tell tale "barking" cough. We went back to a room and people passing by would stop in for a moment and say, "Oh, poor baby has croup." He got medicine, a steroid, and we went home. It was around 4:30 a.m. or 5 a.m. when we got home and The Little Gentleman and I snuggled on the couch with him watching Thomas on repeat while I dozed and he did his best to work off the ephedrine the medicine had in it. It was early Christmas time, for I just had a memory of the Christmas Tree being lit while we watched Thomas. Less than 2 months later, we were going through croup again and his dad and I discussed and decided that we didn't want to risk damaging our son in any way by giving him a 2nd dose of strong steroids within a short period of time. We determined that we would wait it out and take it only if it got terribly worse. Last winter we had two cases and already, just before Thanksgiving, we have our first case of the winter. I do hope that he feels better before Thanksgiving as I would hate for him to follow my pattern of always being sick at one holiday or another. Anyway. When The Little Gentleman is sick, there is little to console him and he is very clingy.

Take the consoling issue. My mom and I went fabric shopping for I am determined to sew my son, neice, nephew and god daughters pajamas for Christmas. While at the store, my mom took The Little Gentleman to the toy area where he found a pirate hat and a foamy like guitar. I can't describe it. Don't ask. Anyway. He decided that he was going to use the guitar as a sword (as Grandma wouldn't let him have the sword) and proceeded to hit me multiple times with the guitar. I told him that it would be a wise choice to stop hitting me, for the next time that he hit me, I was going to put the guitar back. In his 3 year old glory, he swung the guitar and purposefully hit me to see what I would do. I looked at him, took the guitar, and returned it, with him screaming behind me the whole way. I asked him to please calm down and his responce was to bite me. I took the pirate hat off his head, put it where ever I was standing, picked him up and left the store. He screamed the entire way, and tried to get down, "I want GRANDMA! I want GRANDMA!" continuing when he was in the car and then trying to get out. A dad commended me for letting him scream it out as I waited by the rear of the car. I gave The Little Gentleman 5 minutes to scream and then told him that if he could stop throwing his tantrum we could go back in and find Grandma. We were three cars farther than our own when the kicking and screaming started again because he informed me he was going to get the pirate hat AND sword and I told him he had lost those toys. This time, after letting him cry, we made it back into the store.

Two minutes later we were on our way back out the store, on our way two stores over to a pet store to get cat food. The Little Gentleman was delighted and I let him linger and look at all the animals on the way back to the food. We had just gotten the food when Grandma caught up with us (after having driven over). We headed to lunch and then were side tracked when we saw my sister and followed her to her lunch destination and intruded on her lunch. Yup. that was fun. While we were about to be shown our booth, we saw some friends of ours. We stopped to chat and we laughed about how we all ended up in the same place. The Little Gentleman heard me say "McDonald's" which is his favorite place and where we had originally been headed.

The Little Gentleman started causing a ruckus saying he wanted McDonald's and my mom and I immediately said, "O.k. we will go to McDonald's. Tell Auntie good-bye." A heartbeat later, The Little Gentleman was in hysterics because he wanted to stay where we were. Classic 3 year old moment. I love it. On top of it all, he went without a nap today. Needless to say, today was a somewhat intense day and I'm ready to hand the intensity off to The Ex for a few hours while I go tend to two other children. I'll still miss The Little Gentleman while I am at work, but its a nice break.

Today I am thankful that even though The Little Gentleman has croup, that it is only a slight case.

He's still keeping me on my toes. Has the energy of a bulldozer (when he has had medicine, which he doesn't always accept so I don't force) and his eating, drinking and sleeping have only been affected minimally. We shall hope for a speedy recovery and that he will be well to gorge on Thanksgiving as it is intended.

~Peace

Yes, Yes, I know...

The blog is new and its been over a month since I've been here. Truth be told, I hadn't quite decided if I was going to really continue to blog. I was never going to be a blogger anyway. I enjoy reading other people's blogs... but really, up until recently, I hadn't given coming back here another try.


And then I read a comic in the paper the other day... I can't tell you what comic, or what day, but I can tell you the jist. Two women sitting at a table. A tells B "We're going to have a 5 minute conversation with no complaining." The second frame they two are staring at one another. Holy Moly did that strike home.


I am 28 years old, and I have realized that I spend most of my life complaining. This person cut me off when I was driving, so I'll spend 10 minutes being angry about it and letting it spill into my work. The 7 year old that I nanny always has some comment to make towards me that directly implies that I might be an uneducated waif, so I'm crabby as I make dinner. I text or call my friends and its "venting" about this or that. All in all, it all comes down to complaining and finding fault in all situations...


So, in light of the upcoming holiday season and being inspired by someone I know, I am going to try to blog each night before going to bed. Each post will be dedicated to what I am most THANKFUL for that day. More and more I hope that this will turn into a real blog with real people who read it (because, let's be honest, at this point in my blogging adventure, no one but me is reading these posts...).


Today I am thankful for the creativity of my son and my enjoyment of creating new things with him.


After a rough morning, following a rough bedtime, The Little Gentleman and I were at odds. We had been battling eachother all morning, mainly over his wanting to watch a movie and me holding strong to the fact that his unacceptable bedtime behavior lost him a morning movie and he could have another chance after dinner. To ease his frustration, I asked him to suggest something we could do instead of watching a movie. He asked for art and was at the table waiting before I could take the three steps to get his art supplies.


Having worked for 5 years at a day care, I was able to aquire a massive number of art patterns - all arranged according to subject and holiday. We had already made turkeys,

and a cornocopia was primed and ready for The Little Gentleman to make. As he glued his fruit on, I sifted looking for the Boy and Girl Pilgrim that I thought I had. Instead, I found a Native American Girl and it was claimed quickly to color.


Still wanting to do art, I asked if we should "write a book". Page 1: Buddy (his favorite and only male cousin) had a little lamb - to which The Little Gentleman turned to me, giggled and said, "Get it Momma? He had a little lamb?" Peals of giggles. Much better than the screams from 15 minutes ago. So I drew his cousin and The Little Gentleman started coloring. Then I asked what the second page was. He told me I could write it, so I decided that my goddaughter (and potential future niece) would be a princess, and I drew her picture. Naturally, because there was a princess, the cousin was converted to a prince and they needed a horse to ride.

Can I interject for a moment? I can't draw. Never could. But how do you explain that to a 3 year old?

Back to the horse. Attempt #1 - horse nose looks like a duck-billed platypus. Destroy. Attempt #2 - horse looks nothing like a horse. Destroy. Attempt #3 - The Little Gentleman proclaims that he wants a horse not that. Destroy. Attempt #4 - I have brought one of the horses in from his pile and am using it as a reference. The Little Gentleman decides that The Prince should ride the horse that I am using for reference. Picture worthy, so picture I took. : ) Managed to finish the horse well enough that The Little Gentleman saw it was infact, a horse.

Content with drawing a corral for the horse (a big circle), I asked what else he wanted. He told me a dinosaur, and I about gave up when I started. Instead, I went directly for one of the dinosaurs that was in previously mentioned pile, and used it as a reference. Incase you are curious, and I know you are, it was an apatasaurus. I think. I'm 98% positive. I'll inquire tomorrow, The Little Gentleman will be glad to set me straight.

With the dinosaur drawn to a decent liking on the first try, I asked what else needed to be done. The Little Gentleman told me the dinosaur was a Christmas Dinosaur. He should wear a Santa suit. Man Alive. How was I going to pull that off? Within an instant, however, the vision was there and suddenly the dinosaur was all mine. I informed The Little Gentleman, who graciously accepted that I would share but it belonged to me. I LOVE my Santa Dinosaur. I am so proud of it that I could faint.

And that 30 - 45 minutes sitting down, distraction from everything, was enough for The Little Gentleman to forget he had even wanted to watch a movie and out came his dinosaur floor puzzle with matching his plastic play dinosaurs to the ones on the picture.

On a sillier note, I'm also thankful for the pigs in a blanket and baked beans for dinner tonight. They were so good, so easy and filled me to the brim! I love meals like that. : )

So, It's 1:30 a.m. 2 hours past my bedtime, but an hour less than I usually have between The Little Gentleman going to sleep and my own bedtime (his is 9:00 - 9:30, mine is 11:30 - 12:00a.m.). We won't discuss how he was up until 11:30 tonight. I hope the croupy undertones I heard this morning and my dad and I heard this late eve were due to his over tiredness and not to actual croup. If he has it again, it will be time #5. So, I'm off to bed to hopefully sleep in a little bit tomorrow morning... I have to prepare for a potential napless day... no way is he getting away with 11:30 p.m. a second night in a row!!!

~Peace.

This could be full of random babbling...

I'm sitting in my usual spot with Thing 1 and Thing 2 keeping my feet warm on the ottoman, The Little Gentleman has been asleep for hours, and I'm watching The Carol Burnett Show. Oh yeah, I should also be in bed but sleep is elusive tonight.

My life is pretty much in upheaval right now, but then again, whose isn't? If you say you have a perfectly content life that never changes, I call you a liar. For little changes happen every day. I, on the other hand, am undergoing some incredible life changes. The main would be the final ending of my relationship with The Little Gentleman's father. The first time I met him was when I was with a random friend stopping by a random apartment. Instant Attraction. The 2nd meeting was months later at another random friends random house. It took only moments for me to know that some day I would marry him and only days before we were intimate, although no official relationship was ever established. I knew within a week that I was in love. A month later was 9/11. My memories of that day will always be engrained with him, for I spent my waking hours at his house in the company of my best friends glued to the tv or having a bonfire in my backyard those first few nights. It was he that I was crying with at a candle light vigil that I attended a few days afterwards. That was 8 years ago. Many more ups and downs in that time including the two of us not talking to one another, but when we were on good terms we were great friends. Every time we weren't on speaking terms was because he realized he was feeling something for me and had to pull away.

Then came the night of my sons conception. A one night stand and I knew even before he left that this one had been different. At the beginning things were great. He went to the first two doctors appointments. Then came the question: Are you sure its mine?

8 months later, he had seen me only a handful of times and only when I permitted it. I admit that I berated him often for not even sending a text to find out how his child was, but that was because he still didn't believe that the child I was growing was in fact his. My doctor was adamant that even though I knew that he was the father, that because he hadn't been there that she wasn't going to allow him in the birthing room. When she came in the room and saw him there, the first thing she did was to ask me if she should ask him to leave. I said no and she took it upon himself to throw a couple jabs his direction while I was concentration on my mission.

The Little Gentleman came out a perfect replica of his father and I was able to get my barb of, "Are you going to deny him now that you've seen him?" before letting him sign the paternity papers. It's not something I'm proud of, but damn it felt good. Two weeks later, we were back in the hospital. The Little Gentleman had a urinary tract infection. After surviving 5 days in the hospital, we were ready to try a real relationship. Now, 3 years later, after numerous tries and too many shed tears, our relationship has come to an end, for our friendship was always so much better. I love him, but I can't say I'm in love with him anymore. Its unfortunate that he was able to come to terms with his own feelings just as I was giving up on the relationship, but too much hurt has happened. Hurt that I won't get into now.

The point of this is that I have decided to try and put myself out there to meet new people. To see who is out there. My first attempts have been unfortunate. I am on a free dating website where I have been contact by a dozen or so men. It's intriging to me because my entire life, I have never been approached by an african american man and 7 of those 12 are african american. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not racist. Not in the least. In fact, my best friend is African Amercan and she and I attended an Anti-KKK rally on the front lawn of the state capitol in St. Paul. When I was younger, I used to wish for a little back girl for they were so adorable. I would have no problem dating an african american. The thing is, though. That I find very few african american men attractive, including those who are in the spotlight - like Will Smith, or Michael Jordan, ya get my point. That, however, is not my point about why it has been unfortunate. What is unfortunate about it, is that 8 out of the 12 people who have contacted me are 40+ years.

*blank stare*

I'm 28. There's a spot on my profile that gives an age range. I put from 25 - 35. Sorry guys, but 40+ is not 35. Two of the guys were 48 and 49. Old enough to be my father. Barf. Of the other four guys, two of them had attrocious grammer and spelling. While I'm not perfect, and especially when I'm just typing I tend to not spell check or edit, I just type, it bothers me when people use no caps, punctuation and speak in their version of ebonics. Hello. You come off as an idiot. Just had to put that out there. Of the other two guys (one of which is African American, in case you were curious) one hasn't responded to my response to his e-mail and the other might have potential. I'll let you know how that goes. He did respond to my response and I have since responded again. : )

The other one is the one that bothers me the most. There's a person who I knew growing up, well sort of knew. In the neighborhood that I grew up in, there were a ton of kids and there was always something to do - games to play, etc. One of the families that lived around teh corner and down a few had two boys, the youngest was my sis's age and the other was 6 years older than me. When I was 8, the eldest was in the high school musical, also the first musical I ever saw which inspired my love for musicals and wanting to be a Broadway star. Recently, I found the elder brother on a social networking site, and sent a request for friends - saying in my message that I knew of him growing up blah blah and wouldn't be offended since we didn't really know eachother. Much to my suprise, a letter was written in addition to the acceptance of the request. The e-mail was such saying that he would like to meet sometime as he knew of me but had never met me and was looking for people to hang out with. I responded with I am very shy and would rather chat a bit over e-mail to see if we even had anything in common to form a friendship. It was a plus for me that he had three kids, one of which was almost exactly the same age as The Little Gentleman - a built in friend for him too! He is in the middle of a divorce and that seemed perfect for me. I am essentially in the same position and he seemed safe to get used to talking to guys again knowing there was no chance for it to get serious. Somewhere in two e-mails he got the impression that I was contacting him only for a booty call. I had gone to the measures of making sure that wasn't the impression that I got, but he told me that was all. Within minutes of that, he was asking me on a booty call. When I declined, he started spouting philisophical mumbo-jumbo about how it was destiny we were both on line at the same time and we should go bump it in the park and have a good time. I continued to hold my ground, for we still had never even met and I am a shy person! I've never had a booty call in my life, I was petrified! I got an apology the next day, to which I said there was nothing to apologise for, and that was the last that I had heard from him.

Man, I am a sucky judge of character. Either that, or when I think that I'm straying away from a certain kind of guy - I find him in a different package.

Its hard for me to get out and meet people. I'm not a big drinker. The last time that I drank was a year ago at a wedding reception - and I was TANKED. I'm too shy for the bar scene and have absolutely no rhythym so don't go to clubs. The guys who are interested in the same things I am are usually gay, most of my guy friends are, or they like the blonde model types - of which I am most heartily and heavily not.

In the end though, it doesn't get me discouraged, because the only man that I care with my whole heart how he feels, is snuggled under his Thomas Blankie waiting for his Momma to come to bed so he can sneak into hers in the wee early morning to poke her face to make her up around 8.

And on that note, I'm off to bed.

~Peace.

Being Ill...

The weather is changing... and with it is bringing on many fun illnesses, namely colds and H1N1... But I don't really want to get on the topic of H1N1 as I am thoroughly convinced that should I, or someone in my immediate family who has daily contact with The Little Gentleman, contract said disease, that my every reason for breathing and existing will be one of the few who does not survive.... I have once already been told that I am being too obsessive about H1N1, so I have decided to stop thinking about it as much as I can... yet I find out a cousin and his fiance brought H1N1 back with them from NY and its hitting too close to home....

No... the real truth of my misery is in fact The Common Cold. The Little Gentleman accompanied me to work on Wed. eve as I work a somewhat split shift. For the last 30 minutes of work, The Mini Ballerina was already in bed, so to keep The Little Gentleman occupied I read book after book, a full 30 minutes of reading without stopping or drink... Upon returning home and putting The Little Gentleman to bed, my throat continued to aggravate me and I hoped that it was merely the extended use of my vocal chords with no rest that caused the slight pain. Alas, Thursday morning I woke with an extremely sore throat and a fever of 102. It should also be noted that I have a lower normal temp, or cooler as it were, so the thermometer read only 99 under the arm, plus the 1 degree plus the two degrees to bring my temp to "normal". In addition, my voice sounded as if I was coming down with laryngitis. I called into work, which had my boss giggling at my voice, and took the day off. The Little Gentleman went to his fathers as he always does when I go to work (free day care and special time with Daddy, looooove it!) and I did my best to rest. Friday I woke with an obvious cold, but was determined to go to work yesterday and today (which I did!).

The thing about when I get sick, is that I have it backwards. Where the normal person would wake up in the morning feeling sick and get better as the day went on, I am opposite. I wake up in the morning full of energy and not feeling sick, but by the end of the day, I'm so worn out and my nose won't stop running. Case in point: When I was 13 years old, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. For two weeks prior to this, I was running fevers of 104. This was also when we discovered that my normal was lower than 98.6 and therefore the fevers I was running were in the 106 range. I would wake up in the morning and go to school, make it through all my classes, come home, do my homework and then by 4:00 p.m. I was running a fever and laid up on the couch (much to the chagrin of my 3 siblings and father who spent much of their time in front of the t.v., I confess, until I was 20 the TV was a family member as well). I would go to bed early, sleep through the night and wake up with a normal temperature, insisting that I felt well enough to go to school. On those rare days that I woke up with a fever that high, I was taken to the doctors. When the doctors suggested that it was something psychological that was causing my fevers (because they didn't start until I came home) my mom was fed up and took me to her R.A. doctor, who ran one test and was able to determine that I had full blown R.A. Not juvenille R.A. which was common in kids my age, but full R.A. The medicines were able to stop the fevers and I only missed a few days of school. Man I suck! I could have had two whole weeks off, but noooo, my body has decided long ago that the evening is the time to be sick.

I currently have a cat sitting on my hands, making it most awkward to type, so I leave you now to pay attention to my silly kitty while I suffer in my illness... I may be back tonight... But who really knows...

Peace.

I have crossed over...

To the dark side of blogging.... Dear me! What on earth have I done?... Oh yeah, I found a platform where I can be annonymous and still discuss the trials and tribulations of daily life!

This first post will be the generics. Afterall, if anyone out there is planning on reading my posts, one must know something about me right? right?.... RIGHT?

I live in the cold state of Minnesota where Fall has decided to decend upon us with a vengence. I shiver as I type this just thinking about what the wind chill did to the temperatures yestrday and today... I wore my winter coat... yes... I'm serious... It's cold...

On the off chance that someone i know may randomly read this blog, I hope to keep it annonymous... therefore, No Real Names Shall Be Used. You may refer to me as ladybyrd... and no, I actually hate birds. : ) I have a Little Gentleman who is three years old and very much turning into a little gentleman.

I also have two cats - Thing One and Thing Two (also not their real names). I enjoy sitting on the computer after The Little Gentleman has gone to sleep and watch a movie while playing the computer and having my cats fight over who gets to sit where on my lap. They will try and outsmart one another, each switching spots with the other so that they are closer to my face. They have sat on top of one another in order to get sitting rights. Ah.... They make me giggle.

I can guarantee that these three entities who dominate my time, energy and love will be mentioned often and often enough within this blog.

Something else you should know... I'm a gemini... in the truest of the sense... I continuously have "the twins" battling with eachother and I HATE making decisions! Plus, my opinions are always changing due to incoming information adn which twin (the reasonable, and not reasonable) twin are deciding which one holds precidence... Does that make sense? Good, cuz I can't figure out a better way to explain it.

I have been told that I am so low maintenance that I'm high maintenance. Really? Is that possible? I enjoy being low maintenance... I spent minutes vs hours getting ready to go out. My hair has been curled so few times that it can't hold a curl no matter how much hair spray is put into my hair. The last make up I wore (other than putting it on here and there and then washing it off right away - same with the hair, I start curling it and it ends up in a pony tail) was when I in my one and only wedding as a bridesmaid. THAT was fun. I had recently lost 70 lbs and got to wear my first real formal dress and have my hair and make up done. I felt like a princess and lost count of the number of jaws that dropped when people saw me. GREAT ego boost. Anyway. My point is that I'm not the traditional girl who cares only about looks and clothes. I wear what is comfortable and affordable. I would rather go to Perkins to eat than a restaurant of $100/plate. Where is the high maintenance? I blame it on the twins. I love and hate being Gemini all at the same time.

Speaking of The Twins, I find it a coincidence that my favorite Twins player has the same last initial as me and also has a birthday one or two days before mine, although I was born the year prior. He also has a small son, but i don't know how old the son is. And no, Mauer is not my favorite player.

I am very hippy, very old old school traditional (I would go back to horse and buggy if I could!) and very femanist at the same time. I would give my left nut to live on a commune, with a dozen or more children running around, and all the girls knowing they are empowered to become whatever they desire no matter what! : ) I hold Michelle Duggar in great awe, often get into arguments about whether 19 children is too many... To that I always respond with #1 - who are we to say how many children any couple can have. #2 A woman in Minnesota had more children than that (I'll get the article some time and share) and #3 How remarkable of the family that not only do they have 18 children currently, but they have 18 well rounded and generous children who are healthy and intelligent, the family has no debt and they live in a house that they built themselves that took over two years. There are no children in that family who are special needs and all of them are lucky to have not one or two but 17 (soon 18) siblings to share their love with. Am I jealous? Hell yes!

.... I could continue... There's much more floating around in my head that will get posted some day... but for now, I figure I've given you enough fat to chew. Besides, I just put in the movie Emma and would like to dedicate my attention there.

Peace and Love and thanks if you've read this far!