My Name is Mommy

Seriously.  This blogger sucks!  She never writes anything!!

Oh wait.  That’s me.  Heh.

Okay, so I’m enjoying a bit of my Summer Break.  Yeah, as a homeschooling mom, I was excited as my daughter to count down to the end of the school year.  I know, some homeschooling families continue throughout the entire year, learning and teaching and making themselves better members of society.  That’s fantastic for them.  Me?  I need a break to look forward to.  (For which to look forward, I know.).  And summer break came just in time!!!  Not that we can’t continue to learn over the summer.  But we?  We don’t have to.  We can be ignorant and let our brains turn completely to mush over the next few months.  It’s our right.  We have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of boogers for brains.  I read it somewhere.

Actually, summer break for me has been an opportunity to read like mad for myself.  No one else.  To learn nothing in particular.  Just to read to my heart’s desire.  And I am.  And I love it.

And the kids?  Booger brains.  Fed by stuff like Chowder and Sponge Bob.  And they love it, too.

I’ll be back to writing something worth reading soon.  Until then, send me your favorite authors.  Nothing sci-fi or fantasy, though.  And that’s a strict rule.  Otherwise you will experience pain.  Lots and lots of pain.  (Name it, anyone?)

My friend and I took our kids out strawberry picking this morning. I’ve heard of people doing it for years around here, but never had my act together early enough to get to the fields on time. (For most farms around here, this is one of the last few days to pick, or else they’re already done with it.)

Truth be told, I didn’t have my act together this year either. My friend did. She planned the date. I did the research. We made it in time. We’re a good team. Apart from each other, just bumps on a log. Not really. At least not for her. For me? True.

Anyway, the kids had fun. Luke’s favorite part was running up and down the rows in the fields and every 15 minutes or so yelling out, “I found one!”

Yeah. Extremely helpful. But he had lots of fun. And I still owe him for the whole birthday incident.

Here are some photos from the day. You enjoy while I go look up a recipe for strawberry jam….

Just updating and rearranging around here.  Domain stuff and things that Bald Man thought would be good.  Whatever.  Right now, it just means a pretty design here until I learn design or con someone else into doing it for me. :P  Anyone, anyone……

Life is good.  School is officially done for the year.  I’m finding that, as a homeschooling mom, I look forward to summer vacation as much as the kids!!!

What else?  Surely there’s something new and fun going on.  Who knows.  I’ll try to get less sleep deprived and come back with something entertaining.

Why is it that I insisted on telling the waiter that it was Luke’s birthday and that they could all gather ’round and sing to him? ‘Cause I’m stupid. Even after Bald Man said not to b/c Luke wouldn’t like it, I still told the guy. And you know what? Luke turned his head down and cried. CRIED!! One of the waitresses stopped singing and was all, “I can’t keep making him cry.” She had more compassion for my child than I did.

And the real reason that I asked them to recognize his birthday? Because I hadn’t made a cake. And there were no candles. One of my children had a birthday and I made no cake, bought no cake, and had no candles for him to blow out. So, obviously, if you’re not going to bake a cake, the next best thing is to make your child cry.

Yeah, he had a cake the night before at Titi’s. With candles. That he blew out (or his brother did, I really don’t remember). But that wasn’t good enough! I should have made a cake that would be his exactly three years to the day (or plus one, Leap Day and that) of his birth!!!! I failed.

Yes, I have issues. And, depending on who you are, it’s either that I have a high guilt complex or that I really am a bad mother. You choose.

The funny thing is that, apparently, Luke thought those crazy servers were just sadistic child-torturers. Because the waiter came by with the check and was all, “I’m sorry we scared you little buddy. We didn’t mean to. Happy Birthday.”

And Luke looked at me and was all, “He didn’t mean to scare me.” And was totally relieved. Good thing he doesn’t know that I was the one who set him up to be terrorized in the first place.

Well, today is the last day that I’ll have a two year old. My baby turns three tomorrow. It’s crazy how quickly time flies. And if you’re looking for me tomorrow, I’ll be the one dancing up and down the street singing, “Hallelujah!”.

As you may remember, two hasn’t always been easy in our house. And I’m not really sad to see it go. And really not for any other reason than it means we’re moving forward with our little family.

Two is quite amazing, actually. The changes that occur in that year are unbelievably phenomenal. From speech, to mobility, to they way they play, to the way they think, it’s just unimaginable. It seems that it would take an adult an entire lifetime to accomplish the changes that a child makes in just that year. And it’s a beautiful thing to be a part of.

But I don’t think I’ll miss it. I’ve had the joy (and struggle!) of being with all of my kids, day in and out, through all of their twos. And I think I’ve had my fill.
Now to get one more through the threes. Because, as well all know, three is much harder than two. All those fancy words that you thought it would be fun to teach your two year old? All of the attitude he’s been observing in his older sibs? All of the knock-knock jokes that he’s committed to memory? They all come to haunt you in the threes. And I’ll feel completely joyed at getting to experience the threes for one last time. (Remind me of this in a coupla months, will ya? )

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And Happy Birthday to Jackie!!!!!!! (I was gonna put a nice photo of her up here, but I think she’ll kill me no matter what photo I use. She should stop yawning when I go to take her picture so I have some options. )

Yep, I finally did it.

No, I wasn’t drunk. Yes, I knew it would be permanent. Yes, it hurt.

So, the why, since that’s usually the next question. I’ve wanted a tattoo for about 10 years. Yes, I really have. I just needed to come up with something that mattered enough to me to have it put on my body. I contemplated one to mark my Dad’s life and death, and I even have an idea in my head, but I’ve never stumbled upon an image that comes close to what’s in my head, yet.

So, Jack and I took a trip to South Carolina earlier this month (I’ll share more about that soon), and I decided then that I wanted a tattoo for Mother’s Day. I know many go for the mother’s ring, with the birthstones of their children in the ring. I don’t actually like the kids’ stones together, so I decided I’d go a different route.

I decided that I’d just get the kids’ initials tattooed on. I love it, it matters to me, and when I go, it goes. No ring to fight over. And if they’re fighting over the tattoo itself, it’s means I’ve seriously damaged the psyches of my kids more than I could ever imagine.
Sidenote: Did you know that it’s been illegal to get a tattoo in South Carolina until the last year or two? Something like that. Anyway, it was crazy because Jack and I couldn’t find a place in SC to get our tattoos! We ended up getting them on the way home (yes, she got one, too) at Beelistic in Cincinnati. Rich did our tattoos. I told him that anyone who permanently changed my skin had to get in a photo with me. Here he is:

Here’s Jackie enjoying the gentle tickling of the tattoo.

I always thought it was interesting that Christians quite often celebrate Easter with a dinner focused on a ham…..which I believe was not a food that the Jews were permitted to eat.

Anyway, Happy Easter. As I mentioned before, Bald Man and I fasted from meat for the period of Lent this year. And while that means I could technically have meat 32 minutes ago, I wanted to reflect a bit before I broke my fast.

Bald Man and I were listening to a speaker on the radio today, a minister whose church was choosing to fast in a different way this year. She said something to the effect that so often Lenten sacrifices tended to focus on the person sacrificing, and not on the Lord. She wanted to change that this year, so she and some of her congregation were choosing to fast from their carbon consumption this year. Obviously not completely, but some were choosing to line-dry clothes instead of using the dryer, some were carpooling, and things like that. They were choosing to give up conveniences in order to cause less harm to the environment and God’s creation. I thought that was pretty cool.

Anyway, while I obviously made a dietary fast, I think that it really has opened my eyes in ways that I, too, can have an affect on the environment, locally and globally, and serve those living here with me.

The first lesson learned was that we don’t need so much meat in our diet!!!! And, don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I certainly don’t need as much as I consume. Paying less for meat and exchanging some of that cost for beans (sooooo much cheaper!) can free up some cash to donate more to our favorite charities, especially much wanted beans and grains for those who have nothing.

Another reminder. Even if I never had meat again, I live where there is so much abundance of food that I would survive and probably still be overweight. Cheese and chocolate are not made of meat (and I was thankful for that!!!). Still, moderation is good, whether meat or beans or cheese or bread. Maybe next year I need to fast from cheese instead.
We’ve really wanted to support local farmers and providers who we know are treating their animals properly (right before they kill it and we plop it on our plates), and are not stuffing them full of hormones and antibiotics. That meat is more expensive. But cutting out the amount of meat we eat, we would better be able to afford the meat that is locally grown and is good for us. That seems a good trade.

So, while I have no desire to go vegetarian, I’m hoping to plan more meals for my family that contain whole grains and beans, lots more veggies and fruits, and stick more to the animal flesh that can’t be classified as “mystery meat.” I’ll let you know how that goes.

Happy Easter.

…and yet none of you told me that the 40 days in Lent don’t count the Sundays????? Hello??? Man, that was a rude awakening!

As you may have read, Bald Man and I gave up meat for Lent. All meat, as in all animal flesh. And no, not just on Fridays. And no, we’re not Catholic (not that there’s anything wrong with that). And no, we don’t usually give up anything for Lent.

I think I was tired one night and said, “We should give up meat for Lent.” And Bald Man said, “Okay.” And we did. That’s why I shouldn’t talk when I’m tired.

But there were a few logical reasons that I wouldn’t have probably gone into except that Bald Man mentioned it. So, if you’re curious as to why, here’s goes:

1-Gain an appreciation for our wealthy diet. We live in a country where food, and meat specifically, is so abundant. If I stop to complain about the fact that I don’t have meat in a meal (and I have been!), it reminds me of people who have no meal at all. Of moms feeding their babies termites and bamboo, or have nothing at all to feel their babies and have to hold them and watch them as they cry and die of hunger. I’m spoiled. I know it. I need to remind myself of it, stop whining, and be reminded why we do what we do with some of our extra.

2-Vary our diets. There are so many foods that we don’t even try because we get content with our 5 normal meals. We’ve tried edamame (YUM!), and tofu (not bad marinated in lemon juice and cilantro and tossed in the middle of rice and beans and sour cream and corn salsa). Also remembered how much I like cottage cheese!

3-Be thankful for what we have no matter what it is. Kinda like #1, but a little more simple and straightforward.

4-I’m a masochist. Not really, but I miss meat!!!!! Chicken mostly, since I pretty much eat it daily. And I’ve had to cook it a few times since we started, and it was so hard not to take a nibble!

No, we haven’t made the kids do it, though I think they could live on yogurt, pb&j’s, pancakes, and mac and cheese and never be the wiser.

I have stopped having the dreams where I’m about to eat a ham sandwich or a buffalo wing only to realize that I couldn’t have it. That happened the first week or so. But now I found out that Lent is 46ish days?!?! Those dreams might come back.

As you many know, Ohio has become very important for both Senators Clinton and Obama. Both candidates are, at this moment, in Cleveland. It’s preempted my usual Biggest Loser weekly viewing, but that’s okay. I do wish that I was in Cleveland right now.

Not for Obama or Clinton, but Brian Williams is there! You know, NBC’s Brian Williams? Anchor of the Nightly News, and SNL superstar?

Did you see him when he was on Saturday Night Live? Hilarious. I can’t find the Brooklyn bit, but he is fantastic, and I imagine that he would be such an engaging and enchanting person to sit and chat with for a bit.

And Tim Russert. He seems pretty interesting and enjoyable as well. I’d rather sit and listen to the two of them for an hour.

Instead, I’ll try and pay attention to the Senators. Maybe I’ll learn something, though I’m not counting on it.

For weeks I’ve been thinking about how it’s been almost 4 years since my dad died. Weeks. And then it happened, and I almost missed it. It wasn’t until about midnight that I realized what day it was. And I can’t tell you how sad that made me. As if I could so easily forget.

But then I realized that, unconsciously, I’ve been remembering for days. I even noticed yesterday that I’ve been thinking about him a ton lately. He’s been in my dreams, I’ve thought about him as I’ve watched my kids, and I’ve just wished that I could share my life with him. I went bowling the other night with friends, and tried to remember all of his coaching with every swing in every frame. (Too bad I didn’t remember so well, it was a couple of bad games for me!)

I don’t ever want to forget the day, it means too much. But I’m realizing more and more that it’s getting more enjoyable to remember him. I can do it without breaking down and aching. I can think of something about his grandkids that he would have enjoyed and smile about it instead of weep. That’s something, I think.