It didn't take me nine months but I am responsible for it. I am the website chick for our support group.
I made this... Homeschool for YOU
I'm rather proud. I've even gotten tot he point where I can make quick changes without too much chaos. That's a good thing. Now if I can get the emails through the knology spam blocker, I'll be cooking with gas.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
He's going to marry a floozy but she'll have to knit her own hat
M is almost 7. Just a few more days. He already has definite ideas on the fashion and beauty of women. And he's already learned how to beat around the bush to avoid hurting feelings, for the most part. He's also learned to avoid answering the delicate questions.
He like it when I paint my nails red and wear red lipstick. He also likes when my hair is big and curly. He's going to end up marrying a "Fran Drescher" wannabe but he will treat her wonderfully.
I've been painting today and stripping the 20 year old wallpaper from the boys' bathroom. I was quite a sticky, paint-covered mess when I announced that I needed to buy a light fixture from Home Depot.
"You're not wearing *that* to the store, are you mom?"
Actually, no... my 6 year old man. I was planning to change clothes and brush my hair before stepping foot out of the house but thank you for looking out for me.
I'm learning to knit. It's not going well. I can crochet like a fiend. I am a menace with a hook and yarn. But with the needles...let's just say that it requires a lot of thought. ZooDad said he was happy to see me working with yarn again. He said that it seemed to calm me and that I made nice things.
Ha, ha, ha...little does he know that I am trying to knit. I shall be neither calm nor churning out nice things.
I am getting pretty good at making square things with a basic stockinnet stitch. Anything beyond that taxes my brain too much. Everyone is getting washcloths for Christmas.
With crochet, I can veg out and watch TV. The stitches are varied but don't require much thought. With Knitting..."ok the instructions say knit 3 purl 2. Knit, knit, off jumps Jack, Arg...honey, how many knits was that...did I drop a stitch...why do I have an extra loop here...yes, I have to say the little rhyme...if I don't I forget if I'm knitting or purling...was I knitting or purling...aw shoot."
It is far from relaxing and all the chatter annoys ZooDad. But the boys want hats and I just can't find a decent crochet boys hat. And don't even get me started about crocheted socks....uuuuuuuuuugly. ZooDad has issued an ultimatum on yarn work in bed. He found my stray crochet hook in the night. He was not a happy camper.
The enemy called. Not that enemy...the other one. The County schools' special needs director called to set up an evaluation for A next week. I am breaking down and attempting to secure services from the school system. I'll have to see what kind of dog and pony show they have and determine if the hoops are worth jumping through. If we can all play nice together, it might be a nice supplement for my little guy.
The "Attempting to secure services" reminded me...we got new 12 mile Walkie talkies. The boys take them with them when they head out to play. (Not that they go even a half mile from the house.) ZooDad wouldn't let the boys use them until he had taught them proper radio protocol. He's a former communications Officer, so I would not expect less.
I cracked up laughing when I heard my oldest say "BFG, this is Scorpion 1. We are approaching the house. Estimated arrival is 1 minute. Out."
ZooDad said that his soldiers weren't that disciplined on radio protocol. He was a proud Daddy.
And for Dy. Mrs Sheehan is the mother who has been protesting at the President's Crawford Ranch. I alternate between extreme annoyance of her and great pity. She's been saying a lot of things that she really has no area of knowledge of and is being used by some wackos I fear. She got involved in a "sit-in" at the White House and apparently the WHG's didn't find her nearly as endearing as they found me. (bat, bat, bat.)
I did read about the elderly looter that was arrested in NO. I don't quite know what to make of the Men in Blue of that elevationally challenged city. Any news of their actions tends to bring on Tourette's like symptoms where I am shaking my head violently and saying words that the boys will never have on their spelling tests.
He like it when I paint my nails red and wear red lipstick. He also likes when my hair is big and curly. He's going to end up marrying a "Fran Drescher" wannabe but he will treat her wonderfully.
I've been painting today and stripping the 20 year old wallpaper from the boys' bathroom. I was quite a sticky, paint-covered mess when I announced that I needed to buy a light fixture from Home Depot.
"You're not wearing *that* to the store, are you mom?"
Actually, no... my 6 year old man. I was planning to change clothes and brush my hair before stepping foot out of the house but thank you for looking out for me.
I'm learning to knit. It's not going well. I can crochet like a fiend. I am a menace with a hook and yarn. But with the needles...let's just say that it requires a lot of thought. ZooDad said he was happy to see me working with yarn again. He said that it seemed to calm me and that I made nice things.
Ha, ha, ha...little does he know that I am trying to knit. I shall be neither calm nor churning out nice things.
I am getting pretty good at making square things with a basic stockinnet stitch. Anything beyond that taxes my brain too much. Everyone is getting washcloths for Christmas.
With crochet, I can veg out and watch TV. The stitches are varied but don't require much thought. With Knitting..."ok the instructions say knit 3 purl 2. Knit, knit, off jumps Jack, Arg...honey, how many knits was that...did I drop a stitch...why do I have an extra loop here...yes, I have to say the little rhyme...if I don't I forget if I'm knitting or purling...was I knitting or purling...aw shoot."
It is far from relaxing and all the chatter annoys ZooDad. But the boys want hats and I just can't find a decent crochet boys hat. And don't even get me started about crocheted socks....uuuuuuuuuugly. ZooDad has issued an ultimatum on yarn work in bed. He found my stray crochet hook in the night. He was not a happy camper.
The enemy called. Not that enemy...the other one. The County schools' special needs director called to set up an evaluation for A next week. I am breaking down and attempting to secure services from the school system. I'll have to see what kind of dog and pony show they have and determine if the hoops are worth jumping through. If we can all play nice together, it might be a nice supplement for my little guy.
The "Attempting to secure services" reminded me...we got new 12 mile Walkie talkies. The boys take them with them when they head out to play. (Not that they go even a half mile from the house.) ZooDad wouldn't let the boys use them until he had taught them proper radio protocol. He's a former communications Officer, so I would not expect less.
I cracked up laughing when I heard my oldest say "BFG, this is Scorpion 1. We are approaching the house. Estimated arrival is 1 minute. Out."
ZooDad said that his soldiers weren't that disciplined on radio protocol. He was a proud Daddy.
And for Dy. Mrs Sheehan is the mother who has been protesting at the President's Crawford Ranch. I alternate between extreme annoyance of her and great pity. She's been saying a lot of things that she really has no area of knowledge of and is being used by some wackos I fear. She got involved in a "sit-in" at the White House and apparently the WHG's didn't find her nearly as endearing as they found me. (bat, bat, bat.)
I did read about the elderly looter that was arrested in NO. I don't quite know what to make of the Men in Blue of that elevationally challenged city. Any news of their actions tends to bring on Tourette's like symptoms where I am shaking my head violently and saying words that the boys will never have on their spelling tests.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
You have to be nice to the Secret Service Guys
Mrs. Sheehan's arrest yesterday reminded me of our trip to the White House a couple of years ago.
I hung out behind right by the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue for quite some time and managed not to be arrested, even when I brought up shooting the White House.
I guess the Secret Service guy found me endearing.
Either that or as a mom of three boys (one in a baby sling) with a Former-Army hubby, I didn't seem much a threat. I'm sure that overhearing my pervasive Republican brainwashing of my children may have saved me also.
ZooDad still laughs about my conversation with the Secret Service guy. It went something like this:
Me: WOW! I didn't realize that the White House was this close to the road. You could shoot out a window with a BB gun from here. Now wonder you have all the crazies stay over there. motioning to the park across the street filled with protestors and numerous unwashed and unkempt people.
White House Guy with an earpiece: Ma'am
Me: So is the back door to the White House.
WHG: It's the North Entrance.
Me: So that would be the back door?
WHG: It's the North Entrance.
Me; So which one is the main entrance on the lawn?
WHG: That's the South Entrance.
Me: Well, wouldn't that make the "North Entrance" the back door and that (pointing) would be the "West Wing."
He cracked a smile.
When we recall this story, ZooDad always wonders how much indoctrinating these guys had to go through to remember not to call it the back door.
We stood there about 15 minutes total, talking with the WHG and chatting with the boys about the President and the White House in general. And this was a week after the congressional anthrax scare and a month after 9/11.
I didn't even get arrested. I got snickered at. I guess I'm no threat suspect.
I hung out behind right by the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue for quite some time and managed not to be arrested, even when I brought up shooting the White House.
I guess the Secret Service guy found me endearing.
Either that or as a mom of three boys (one in a baby sling) with a Former-Army hubby, I didn't seem much a threat. I'm sure that overhearing my pervasive Republican brainwashing of my children may have saved me also.
ZooDad still laughs about my conversation with the Secret Service guy. It went something like this:
Me: WOW! I didn't realize that the White House was this close to the road. You could shoot out a window with a BB gun from here. Now wonder you have all the crazies stay over there. motioning to the park across the street filled with protestors and numerous unwashed and unkempt people.
White House Guy with an earpiece: Ma'am
Me: So is the back door to the White House.
WHG: It's the North Entrance.
Me: So that would be the back door?
WHG: It's the North Entrance.
Me; So which one is the main entrance on the lawn?
WHG: That's the South Entrance.
Me: Well, wouldn't that make the "North Entrance" the back door and that (pointing) would be the "West Wing."
He cracked a smile.
When we recall this story, ZooDad always wonders how much indoctrinating these guys had to go through to remember not to call it the back door.
We stood there about 15 minutes total, talking with the WHG and chatting with the boys about the President and the White House in general. And this was a week after the congressional anthrax scare and a month after 9/11.
I didn't even get arrested. I got snickered at. I guess I'm no threat suspect.
Monday, September 26, 2005
I have not fallen off the face of the earth.
I have been busy battling the state. This means that I am just standing precipitously close to the edge but I still have not fallen off... yet.
As some of you know, my 4 year old is a special needs child. He has dyspraxia, apraxia of speech, sensory integration disorder, and developmental delays. He is not autistic. I work with him every day with the advice from his therapists and he has $2000 in therapy each month to try to bring him up to speed. Our insurance pays for the first 20 visits and our son qualified for Medicaid for disabled children which paid for the rest.
Well, they used to.
The state has recently denied him Medicaid. Apparently, being a four year old child who is at 20 months ability in speech and in the 2% in preschool abilities is just not disabled enough to matter. It would seem that, I need to wait until he is a young adult who can not, speak, write, or dress himself before the state views him as "qualified for services." Of course, by then it will be too late to do anything about it.
I am fighting it.
It has been especially hard because all the letters I am collecting to fight the state bring up things that I just haven't thought about before. What if he makes no further significant gains?
What if he is 16 years old and can't zip his pants or tie his shoes. What if he can never carry on a conversation with adults? What if he never learns to write or read? How will he drive a car if he can not judge dangerous situations? How will he hold down a job if he can't tell where he is in space or how to manipulate objects? Will he be able to cook a meal if he can't even use a fork?
I know it's a worst case scenario. I know he's only 4 and no one can tell what progress he will make. I've just never thought of much past next month or next year. I've never entertained the thought that he would be anything other than a productive citizen, father, and husband possibly with a mild speech problem and some reading slowness.
It just never occurred to me
Now that it has...I'm all set to fight the state. My letters are written, copied and prepared to certified mailed. My letter to the Governor is ready. I've already drafted another to his Director of the Council of Developmental disabilities.
I am fighting, not for myself, but for one little guy who doesn't have the voice or ability to fight.
He just happens to be my son.
A man on our support list once wrote, "Apraxia took my voice and a world that equates muteness with ignorance took everything else."
My child will not have that experience.
Not while I'm still standing.
As some of you know, my 4 year old is a special needs child. He has dyspraxia, apraxia of speech, sensory integration disorder, and developmental delays. He is not autistic. I work with him every day with the advice from his therapists and he has $2000 in therapy each month to try to bring him up to speed. Our insurance pays for the first 20 visits and our son qualified for Medicaid for disabled children which paid for the rest.
Well, they used to.
The state has recently denied him Medicaid. Apparently, being a four year old child who is at 20 months ability in speech and in the 2% in preschool abilities is just not disabled enough to matter. It would seem that, I need to wait until he is a young adult who can not, speak, write, or dress himself before the state views him as "qualified for services." Of course, by then it will be too late to do anything about it.
I am fighting it.
It has been especially hard because all the letters I am collecting to fight the state bring up things that I just haven't thought about before. What if he makes no further significant gains?
What if he is 16 years old and can't zip his pants or tie his shoes. What if he can never carry on a conversation with adults? What if he never learns to write or read? How will he drive a car if he can not judge dangerous situations? How will he hold down a job if he can't tell where he is in space or how to manipulate objects? Will he be able to cook a meal if he can't even use a fork?
I know it's a worst case scenario. I know he's only 4 and no one can tell what progress he will make. I've just never thought of much past next month or next year. I've never entertained the thought that he would be anything other than a productive citizen, father, and husband possibly with a mild speech problem and some reading slowness.
It just never occurred to me
Now that it has...I'm all set to fight the state. My letters are written, copied and prepared to certified mailed. My letter to the Governor is ready. I've already drafted another to his Director of the Council of Developmental disabilities.
I am fighting, not for myself, but for one little guy who doesn't have the voice or ability to fight.
He just happens to be my son.
A man on our support list once wrote, "Apraxia took my voice and a world that equates muteness with ignorance took everything else."
My child will not have that experience.
Not while I'm still standing.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Outside, I'm smiling and friendly
Inside, I am grumpy and resentful.
I am tired. I am tired of feeling annoyed by cattiness. I'm tired of superiority issues. I'm tired of feeling that I should keep my (well-researched and passionate) ideas to myself so we can all enjoy a spirit of "diversity."
I've never understood why tolerance meant "everybody but Christians" or why people feel that I must accept their beliefs.
And if the question doesn't apply to you...don't answer it. If someone asks "How often do you study Latin each week," an answer like "We don't." is not a polite option. If you don't, keep it to yourself. You are putting down another person decision when you do that.
Any statement that begins with "I might be in the minority here..." Should also not be said. Your attempt is not to educate but the belittle ,shame, and demean. (Oh, that poor ignorant majority.
I'm aggravated and I am tired of dealing with it.
I'm ready to crawl into a cave and ignore everyone.
So I've decided to not deal with it anymore.
I'll just smile....and move me and mine to the other side of the room.
I am tired. I am tired of feeling annoyed by cattiness. I'm tired of superiority issues. I'm tired of feeling that I should keep my (well-researched and passionate) ideas to myself so we can all enjoy a spirit of "diversity."
I've never understood why tolerance meant "everybody but Christians" or why people feel that I must accept their beliefs.
And if the question doesn't apply to you...don't answer it. If someone asks "How often do you study Latin each week," an answer like "We don't." is not a polite option. If you don't, keep it to yourself. You are putting down another person decision when you do that.
Any statement that begins with "I might be in the minority here..." Should also not be said. Your attempt is not to educate but the belittle ,shame, and demean. (Oh, that poor ignorant majority.
I'm aggravated and I am tired of dealing with it.
I'm ready to crawl into a cave and ignore everyone.
So I've decided to not deal with it anymore.
I'll just smile....and move me and mine to the other side of the room.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
We did it all.
Yep, we got our very overloaded schedule finished today.
ZooDad got home late last night. This was his third trip in as many weeks. The boys are excited to have Daddy home on a weeknight for a change.
Because he was driving most of the night, he stayed home today.
Yep, it was a miracle. We managed a full school day with Daddy home and A's 2 hours of ST and OT. I am so amazed with myself. Usually, when ZooDad is home, everything goes right down the drain. We just all kind of hang out and bum around.
J started his new LCI DVD lesson today. He totally loves it. ZooDad said that he (J) spent and hour afterwards trying to teach him (ZooDad) Latin. It was a exercise in futility.
ZooDad's idea of a dead language is FORTRAN.
M had a sentence quandary in R&S English. The sentence was
"School is"..."a gift from God." or "a lot of work." He couldn't bring himself to answer that one. This is the same kid who announced yesterday that if he did go away from school, his favorite part of the day would be going home.
Hee, hee, hee. Thank goodness we homeschool.
A is plugging right along. He's so intelligent. I'm dragging out my Reading Reflex book to start teaching him to read. He already knows all the letters and sounds. His K level math book is far too easy for him but he lack the fine motor skills to do harder work.
It the writing that is holding him back and it will for a long time to come. I just have to find a way around it.
Quote of the day:
From The Frog and Toad Treasury
"The whole world is covered with buttons and not one of them is mine." This was said by 9 year-old J while his Daddy looked everywhere for the wall charger for his cell phone. He found everything but the one fitting the current phone. We all cracked up but ZooDad could not see the humor.
ZooDad got home late last night. This was his third trip in as many weeks. The boys are excited to have Daddy home on a weeknight for a change.
Because he was driving most of the night, he stayed home today.
Yep, it was a miracle. We managed a full school day with Daddy home and A's 2 hours of ST and OT. I am so amazed with myself. Usually, when ZooDad is home, everything goes right down the drain. We just all kind of hang out and bum around.
J started his new LCI DVD lesson today. He totally loves it. ZooDad said that he (J) spent and hour afterwards trying to teach him (ZooDad) Latin. It was a exercise in futility.
ZooDad's idea of a dead language is FORTRAN.
M had a sentence quandary in R&S English. The sentence was
"School is"..."a gift from God." or "a lot of work." He couldn't bring himself to answer that one. This is the same kid who announced yesterday that if he did go away from school, his favorite part of the day would be going home.
Hee, hee, hee. Thank goodness we homeschool.
A is plugging right along. He's so intelligent. I'm dragging out my Reading Reflex book to start teaching him to read. He already knows all the letters and sounds. His K level math book is far too easy for him but he lack the fine motor skills to do harder work.
It the writing that is holding him back and it will for a long time to come. I just have to find a way around it.
Quote of the day:
From The Frog and Toad Treasury
"The whole world is covered with buttons and not one of them is mine." This was said by 9 year-old J while his Daddy looked everywhere for the wall charger for his cell phone. He found everything but the one fitting the current phone. We all cracked up but ZooDad could not see the humor.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
The last one makes up for the third one's delay
The baby can talk. Oh boy, can he talk. And talk he does. He just talks and talks. I know he's making up for A's quiet times but still. Woooweee. My ears get tired.
and because I feel like sharing my pain, here's this evening bedtime conversation.
The setting: the youngest two Zoo Children's room. S in one bed. A and myself in the other.
S begins:
Mom, Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He's downstairs.
Mom
Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He is.
Sam, Andrew is in his bed.
Where is he?
I don't see him.
Where's Andrew?
Where is he?
Where's Andrew?
Where's Andrew, Mom?
Where's Andrew?
I don't see him'
Andrew sits up and glares at his brother who will not be quiet.
Oh, There he is!
There's Andrew.
He's in his bed.
Andrew is in his bed.
in his bed.
Not in my bad.
You in his bed.
You not in my bed.
Oh no.
My blankie.
My blankie
blanky
help
fusses and grunts while pulling his blanket.
my blanky
help, mom
I get up and fix the blanket
There. It's all good now.
All good
Thank you mom.
Thank you
all good now.
Andrew finally loses it.
Go to sleep Sammy.
See outside
It is dark
it is night
it's time to sleep
stop talking and go to sleep.
you sleep at night.
you don't talk all night
you sleep
GO TO SLEEP.
10 seconds of quiet and then I hear a sigh from the other bed.
I want something to drink.
I want something to drink.
ooohhhh, blankie.
Where's Elmo.
Andrew then loudly complains:
He just doesn't want to go to sleep.
It was all could do not to crack up laughing.
and because I feel like sharing my pain, here's this evening bedtime conversation.
The setting: the youngest two Zoo Children's room. S in one bed. A and myself in the other.
S begins:
Mom, Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He's downstairs.
Mom
Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He is.
Sam, Andrew is in his bed.
Where is he?
I don't see him.
Where's Andrew?
Where is he?
Where's Andrew?
Where's Andrew, Mom?
Where's Andrew?
I don't see him'
Andrew sits up and glares at his brother who will not be quiet.
Oh, There he is!
There's Andrew.
He's in his bed.
Andrew is in his bed.
in his bed.
Not in my bad.
You in his bed.
You not in my bed.
Oh no.
My blankie.
My blankie
blanky
help
fusses and grunts while pulling his blanket.
my blanky
help, mom
I get up and fix the blanket
There. It's all good now.
All good
Thank you mom.
Thank you
all good now.
Andrew finally loses it.
Go to sleep Sammy.
See outside
It is dark
it is night
it's time to sleep
stop talking and go to sleep.
you sleep at night.
you don't talk all night
you sleep
GO TO SLEEP.
10 seconds of quiet and then I hear a sigh from the other bed.
I want something to drink.
I want something to drink.
ooohhhh, blankie.
Where's Elmo.
Andrew then loudly complains:
He just doesn't want to go to sleep.
It was all could do not to crack up laughing.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
41 things
That's like, 40 things too many. Since I am a literalist and Harriette said I had to do this just because I stoped by to look at her pretty pictures. Here's this meme because I am procrastinating.
I'm tagging Jacqui and Penny to do this one. Local love for ya'. Anybody else that wants it can join in too.
1. What is your full name? Sheila I don't tell people the rest online. It's kind of distinctive and I already have a crazy stalker that teaches high school english.
2. What color pants are you wearing? none...scandalous
3. What are you listening to right now? Shep Smith on Fox News, 4 boys giggling over Spongebob squarepants. In the CD player: James Taylor.
4. What was the last thing you ate? McDonald's! ZooDad is in NJ and we grabbed something on the way home from scouts
5. Do you wish on stars? Nope. I do look for constellations and planets.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Crayola Razzmatazz
7. How is the weather right now? 84 and little humidity. Very nice
8. Who is the last person you spoke to on the phone? My mom
9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes, she's a great Southerner and mom of boys.
10. How old are you today? I had to to do the math. I'm 35.
11. Favorite drink? Sweet tea and good margaritas
12. Favorite sport to play? I don't play anything. I love coaching baseball and basketball.
13. Hair color? dark brown with some chocolate highlights
14. Do you wear contacts? Ewwww...no. I have glasses that I am too vain to wear. I can't put stuff in my eyes.
15. Do you have any siblings? My sister and brother are 17 and 16 years older than me. I'm the baby baby.
16. Favorite month? April. Flowers, nice weather, Easter
17. Favorite food? Pizza and boiled peanuts. Not together of course.
18. What was the last movie you saw? At home: Constantine, In the theatre: National Treasure
19. Favorite day of the year? Halloween, Our neighborhood is great. It is just a fun, fun day.
20. What do you do to vent anger? My poor hubby listens to me. He just listens, and listens, and listens.
21. What were your favorite toys as a child? I really didn't play with toys. I did love my Tree Tots though.
22. Summer or winter? spring?
23. Hugs or kisses? Caramel kisses...oh yes
24. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate with that magic shell stuff
28. When was the last time you cried? Today
29. What is under your bed? Dy will love this one. Ok...6 gas masks, replacement filters, a bug out kit, a wind up radio, and a wind up flashlight. oh and some shoes.
30. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Dale and he's a democrat
31. What did you do last night? I ironed and I hated it.
33. Plain, buttered or salted popcorn? buttered and salted
34. Favorite car? I love my van, a town and country. I wish I had leather though.
35. Favorite flower? The big pom-pom mums
36. Number of keys on your key ring? 2, I lead a simple life.
37. How many years at your current job? 9 it's a lifetime appointment
38. Favorite day of the week? Saturday, that's family day.
39. What did you do on your last birthday? I had cake and ice cream and was serenaded by 5 handsome men. (are you envious?)
40. How many states have you lived in? 3 (GA, SC, and NC)
41. How many cities have you lived in? city, town, suburb???? Now this gets complicated. 3 cities, 1 suburb, 3 towns
I'm tagging Jacqui and Penny to do this one. Local love for ya'. Anybody else that wants it can join in too.
1. What is your full name? Sheila I don't tell people the rest online. It's kind of distinctive and I already have a crazy stalker that teaches high school english.
2. What color pants are you wearing? none...scandalous
3. What are you listening to right now? Shep Smith on Fox News, 4 boys giggling over Spongebob squarepants. In the CD player: James Taylor.
4. What was the last thing you ate? McDonald's! ZooDad is in NJ and we grabbed something on the way home from scouts
5. Do you wish on stars? Nope. I do look for constellations and planets.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Crayola Razzmatazz
7. How is the weather right now? 84 and little humidity. Very nice
8. Who is the last person you spoke to on the phone? My mom
9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes, she's a great Southerner and mom of boys.
10. How old are you today? I had to to do the math. I'm 35.
11. Favorite drink? Sweet tea and good margaritas
12. Favorite sport to play? I don't play anything. I love coaching baseball and basketball.
13. Hair color? dark brown with some chocolate highlights
14. Do you wear contacts? Ewwww...no. I have glasses that I am too vain to wear. I can't put stuff in my eyes.
15. Do you have any siblings? My sister and brother are 17 and 16 years older than me. I'm the baby baby.
16. Favorite month? April. Flowers, nice weather, Easter
17. Favorite food? Pizza and boiled peanuts. Not together of course.
18. What was the last movie you saw? At home: Constantine, In the theatre: National Treasure
19. Favorite day of the year? Halloween, Our neighborhood is great. It is just a fun, fun day.
20. What do you do to vent anger? My poor hubby listens to me. He just listens, and listens, and listens.
21. What were your favorite toys as a child? I really didn't play with toys. I did love my Tree Tots though.
22. Summer or winter? spring?
23. Hugs or kisses? Caramel kisses...oh yes
24. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate with that magic shell stuff
28. When was the last time you cried? Today
29. What is under your bed? Dy will love this one. Ok...6 gas masks, replacement filters, a bug out kit, a wind up radio, and a wind up flashlight. oh and some shoes.
30. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Dale and he's a democrat
31. What did you do last night? I ironed and I hated it.
33. Plain, buttered or salted popcorn? buttered and salted
34. Favorite car? I love my van, a town and country. I wish I had leather though.
35. Favorite flower? The big pom-pom mums
36. Number of keys on your key ring? 2, I lead a simple life.
37. How many years at your current job? 9 it's a lifetime appointment
38. Favorite day of the week? Saturday, that's family day.
39. What did you do on your last birthday? I had cake and ice cream and was serenaded by 5 handsome men. (are you envious?)
40. How many states have you lived in? 3 (GA, SC, and NC)
41. How many cities have you lived in? city, town, suburb???? Now this gets complicated. 3 cities, 1 suburb, 3 towns
Hurricanes and Governors
I am a hurricane junkie. I was in Columbia when Hugo hit; in Augusta when David hit, and in Fayetteville when Fran hit.
I also took meteorology as an elective right after Hugo. My professor concentrated on Thunderstorms and hurricanes. Lots of Lightening. Lots of Hugo.
So I watch everything hurricane related. I even plot them on my own little map and make strike predictions.
I am nerd.
Here's what I have noticed:
A hurricane (or four) hits Florida and Jeb Bush is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. Or course, his brother is the President of the United States. So you know brothers have each others backs.
A hurricane hits Alabama and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican if that matters.
A hurricane hits Mississippi and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican and one super strong political dynamo. In fact, he is the possible next presidential choice, if that matters.
A hurricane hits Louisiana and nobody is out rallying. The mayor is cussing and blaming. The governor was crying on TV and I haven't seen her since. According to her office, she started making some emergency orders on the 31st.
The 31st, she ordered the Special officers commission to, in a sense, deputize more officers
On the 1st, she ordered the emergency occupation of hotel and motel rooms.
On the 2nd, she ordered the evacuation of the affected area using buses, specifically school buses.
On the 3rd, was an order stating that there was a public health emergency. (Which the federal government did on Friday also.)
And also an order to commandeer private property and reduce state restrictions on imported items and supplies. There was a third order to release restrictions of road rules for transport trucks as in weight limits, size of beds,…ect.
That was Friday.
Before that, you had to follow state law.
If your truck was too big, you couldn't go.
If you didn't have paperwork, you couldn't go.
If you didn't pay the state tax, you couldn't bring in gas.
If you didn't have a CDL liscence, you couldn't throw people on a bus and head to Houston like that 18 year-old New Orleans young man did.
And speaking of the evacuees in Texas, there's a lot of them. They seem to have a very good emergency plan for disasters and massive releif. Who is the governor there? And who used to be?
Hmmm...well, that's all I know or can say. It's a deplorable situation on all levels.
I also took meteorology as an elective right after Hugo. My professor concentrated on Thunderstorms and hurricanes. Lots of Lightening. Lots of Hugo.
So I watch everything hurricane related. I even plot them on my own little map and make strike predictions.
I am nerd.
Here's what I have noticed:
A hurricane (or four) hits Florida and Jeb Bush is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. Or course, his brother is the President of the United States. So you know brothers have each others backs.
A hurricane hits Alabama and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican if that matters.
A hurricane hits Mississippi and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican and one super strong political dynamo. In fact, he is the possible next presidential choice, if that matters.
A hurricane hits Louisiana and nobody is out rallying. The mayor is cussing and blaming. The governor was crying on TV and I haven't seen her since. According to her office, she started making some emergency orders on the 31st.
The 31st, she ordered the Special officers commission to, in a sense, deputize more officers
On the 1st, she ordered the emergency occupation of hotel and motel rooms.
On the 2nd, she ordered the evacuation of the affected area using buses, specifically school buses.
On the 3rd, was an order stating that there was a public health emergency. (Which the federal government did on Friday also.)
And also an order to commandeer private property and reduce state restrictions on imported items and supplies. There was a third order to release restrictions of road rules for transport trucks as in weight limits, size of beds,…ect.
That was Friday.
Before that, you had to follow state law.
If your truck was too big, you couldn't go.
If you didn't have paperwork, you couldn't go.
If you didn't pay the state tax, you couldn't bring in gas.
If you didn't have a CDL liscence, you couldn't throw people on a bus and head to Houston like that 18 year-old New Orleans young man did.
And speaking of the evacuees in Texas, there's a lot of them. They seem to have a very good emergency plan for disasters and massive releif. Who is the governor there? And who used to be?
Hmmm...well, that's all I know or can say. It's a deplorable situation on all levels.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
A reminder for everyone
Over the past few days, we have been watching the footage of the destruction in our sister states.
I've never been one to shelter the boys, so they have watched it also and I have explained what has happened and what is going on.
As I explained to the boys that these people had lost every single thing they had, six-year-old M piped up, "No Mama. They still have their souls."
I was speechless.
Then my 10 year old chimed in. "It's ok Mom. God knows everything. He has those people in heaven now where He can keep them safe. He's watching over all the other people even if they forget."
I wish I could get their message to those people. I think we all could use the reminder.
I've never been one to shelter the boys, so they have watched it also and I have explained what has happened and what is going on.
As I explained to the boys that these people had lost every single thing they had, six-year-old M piped up, "No Mama. They still have their souls."
I was speechless.
Then my 10 year old chimed in. "It's ok Mom. God knows everything. He has those people in heaven now where He can keep them safe. He's watching over all the other people even if they forget."
I wish I could get their message to those people. I think we all could use the reminder.
Grumpy grump rant
The very grumpy elderly gentleman in the Occupational therapy waiting room.
I am very sorry that my 2-year-olds 3 minute crying spell bothered you. I am even more sorry that you chose to grump and complain about it for 10 minutes after he stopped.
He was crying because I made him sit in his stroller as time out for misbehaving. I am not going to risk teaching my son discipline because his quiet crying bothers you. Trust me, in the long run we'll all be happier for it.
On the other hand, I chose to keep my displeasure of you cursing to myself out of respect for your age. Your copious usage of h*ll, d@mn, sh!t, and even the big f bomb was shocking. Thankfully, my children were too busy doing their school work to pay you too much attention. And they were unaware of your wrath.
They just thought you were crazy and felt sorry for you.
I am very sorry that my 2-year-olds 3 minute crying spell bothered you. I am even more sorry that you chose to grump and complain about it for 10 minutes after he stopped.
He was crying because I made him sit in his stroller as time out for misbehaving. I am not going to risk teaching my son discipline because his quiet crying bothers you. Trust me, in the long run we'll all be happier for it.
On the other hand, I chose to keep my displeasure of you cursing to myself out of respect for your age. Your copious usage of h*ll, d@mn, sh!t, and even the big f bomb was shocking. Thankfully, my children were too busy doing their school work to pay you too much attention. And they were unaware of your wrath.
They just thought you were crazy and felt sorry for you.
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