"Simon, would you mind getting your brother some chocolate milk?"-me
"I can't! I'm dealing with a screaming baby! Don't you see?"-Simon
**for the record, Titus was not screaming. He was fussing a tiny bit while Simon was playing next to him.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
just because
I've been a little snap happy lately. Wouldn't you be if you had a little milk dud as cute as this guy? The pictures are all super grainy. You would think the yellow walls would brighten up the room, but it's just dark and shadowy. The room has also become a sort of guest room/home gym/catch all. There is a chest and stuffed chair I would take if my mom wouldn't notice. And a stationary bike and treadmill I would move out of here if I could lift it. Other than that, the room is quite comfy.
I can't get enough of this kid.
:D
He looks like me, huh? Minus the giant bags under my eyes. Does anybody have any secrets to getting rid of those? No smart alek answers like, "Sleep." please. I need solutions.
maFeefers. He calls Simon Sheriff. I've been meaning to write that down for months. Simon reciprocates and calls Felix by his chosen name, Marshall. They also go by Spy 1 and Spy 2. I caught them playing something that closely resembled house today. Felix was mad because Simon wouldn't let him be the dad. I said, "Why can't one of you be the dad and one of you be the son?" Nope. Felix was still highly offended that Simon was trying to make him be a girl. "Why can't you just be brothers?" Nope. "Why can't you be two dads that are just neighbors or two dads that are at Officer Training School together?" Nope. Eventually, they gave up on the idea all together.
Lots of playing outside around here. The boys are covered in bug bites and bruises. I thought all the sun they've been getting would tan 'em up a bit, but they are still "Rutan white." That's how a friend describes the pallor of our skin. We are freakishly white, she has a point. I'm going to get a spray on tan before Sean's graduation. If they're affordable.
My niece, Lauren.
Simon and LaLa.
And my mom before their trip. She got her nails done for the very first time ever. Ever ever. Isn't she cute?
I can't get enough of this kid.
:D
He looks like me, huh? Minus the giant bags under my eyes. Does anybody have any secrets to getting rid of those? No smart alek answers like, "Sleep." please. I need solutions.
maFeefers. He calls Simon Sheriff. I've been meaning to write that down for months. Simon reciprocates and calls Felix by his chosen name, Marshall. They also go by Spy 1 and Spy 2. I caught them playing something that closely resembled house today. Felix was mad because Simon wouldn't let him be the dad. I said, "Why can't one of you be the dad and one of you be the son?" Nope. Felix was still highly offended that Simon was trying to make him be a girl. "Why can't you just be brothers?" Nope. "Why can't you be two dads that are just neighbors or two dads that are at Officer Training School together?" Nope. Eventually, they gave up on the idea all together.
Lots of playing outside around here. The boys are covered in bug bites and bruises. I thought all the sun they've been getting would tan 'em up a bit, but they are still "Rutan white." That's how a friend describes the pallor of our skin. We are freakishly white, she has a point. I'm going to get a spray on tan before Sean's graduation. If they're affordable.
My niece, Lauren.
Simon and LaLa.
And my mom before their trip. She got her nails done for the very first time ever. Ever ever. Isn't she cute?
Thursday, July 16, 2009
did that just happen?
Blurry pictures, but too cute to delete. I was messing with my camera settings. His shirt isn't actually this glowy.
I've had a lot of instances over the past few days that I've had a reason to ask...
*The girl that cut my hair the other day kept calling me "ma'am." What the heck? She probably thought I was an idiot because it took me a while to catch on to the fact that she was speaking to me. Am I a ma'am? Surely, surely I haven't reached ma'am status yet.
I should've asked the child how old she was. How old do you have to be to go to cosmetology school?
*Talking to a boy I used to babysit. When I sat for him, he was potty training. He probably thought I was a wierdo, too. I couldn't stop staring at him. His voice has changed! He was all...old and stuff. What does that make me?
*A lady darted in front of me at Old Navy today. I'm not joking. She saw me going for the register and dashed in front of me. It didn't occur to me at the time how rude it was. Until she rang up her purchases as two separate orders and then stood and chatted with the cashier over how unusual the spelling of his name was. Are you for real? If I had been alone it would've been one thing, but when shopping with three boys, time is of the essence.
*I've noticed one syllable words coming out of my mouth as two syllables. I'm turning country, I fear. I asked Titus the other day, "Whatcha cryin' fow-er?" and I've caught myself saying, "Whatsa matter baby bow-ee?" Yikes. I need to take a trip to Minnesota or somewhere to balance back out.
*Speaking of country...I noticed a creepy crawly tonight as I was carrying a sleeping Felix through the kitchen. Luckily, the cat noticed him, too. He was just a tiny little tree frog, but still. I figured I'd give the cat a few minutes to handle him while I gave Titus a quick bath.
Afterwards, I realized I'd forgotten to grab T's sleeper from the laundry room. I carried him down wrapped up in his towel, only to realize the cat is totally worthless. I plopped Titus down into his little bouncy seat thing and went to find something to catch the frog in.
And then..."oh PLEASE tell me that was just a fart."
Stupid cat can't even catch a silly little tree frog. I grabbed a colander and a cutting board, trapped him in it, heebee jeebeeing it every time he jumped. I swear he was going for my face. I carried him to the front door and just tossed the colander and cutting board out with him.
Then I gave Titus another bath. Fun stuff. Why I didn't take the time to throw a diaper on him before running downstairs, I do not know. Make that reason #455 why I would never even consider cloth diapers.
I will also never live in the country. Or have a pansy cat that can't even catch a frog.
*Mr. T is reaching his milestones all at once.
-He woke up on his belly this morning
-He laughed for the first time at Books A Million today
-He's reeeeeeeeally starting to notice his hands
-He noticed his foot for the first time today
He's also started making this really goofy face and he's drooling all over the place. I think he's biting down as hard as he can and his lips just poke out like that. It's hilarious. 
A stranger commented on his size yesterday. I've noticed, but no one out in public has ever remarked about how chubby he is. He is quite the little hefty hefty cinch sack, though. He's got those finger joint baby dimples and his hands are starting to take on that twist off look. I love it! His bewwy is perfect for raspberries now and his cheeks constantly have lip marks on 'em. He's really starting to take on a look of his own, too. Some days he looks like Felix, some days Simon, but mostly he's just starting to look like Titus.
I love my baby boys.
**A Felix quote, so I don't forget: "Mommy, can I have a sucker?"
"Nope, gotta eat breakfast first."
"But my hand is already in the bag."
:) Man logic.
high & tight
The boys decided they want to look like Daddy. After I did such a horrible job cutting their hair a few weeks ago, I figured I'd let an actual barber take a stab at it this go 'round.
If I was a barber, I would want this guy to play my part in a made for t.v. movie. He was a hilariously stereotypical barber. His voice had no inflection and he spoke soooooooooo slowly with the biggest southern drawl. It was hard not to chuckle.
"So your husband joined the service? *pause*That's good. *pause*That's real good.*pause*'Specially with five kids."
I had my niece and nephew with me and promptly corrected the man.
Felix had to be pumped up/bribed/prepared for the cut the whole way to the barber shop. Luckily, real barbers have silent clippers.
He was still not all that thrilled about the process, but at least he wasn't screaming and leaping from the chair.
Love the look on his face. :)
Short!!
The finished products:
His tough guy face:
The look that makes me wonder how he got so old, so fast:
Brothers for sure.
A new game. He tries to blink as he hears the shutter click. It's super fun.
There ya have it. More pictures to come. I got my hair did, too.
If I was a barber, I would want this guy to play my part in a made for t.v. movie. He was a hilariously stereotypical barber. His voice had no inflection and he spoke soooooooooo slowly with the biggest southern drawl. It was hard not to chuckle.
"So your husband joined the service? *pause*
I had my niece and nephew with me and promptly corrected the man.
Felix had to be pumped up/bribed/prepared for the cut the whole way to the barber shop. Luckily, real barbers have silent clippers.
He was still not all that thrilled about the process, but at least he wasn't screaming and leaping from the chair.
Love the look on his face. :)
Short!!
The finished products:
His tough guy face:
The look that makes me wonder how he got so old, so fast:
Brothers for sure.
A new game. He tries to blink as he hears the shutter click. It's super fun.
There ya have it. More pictures to come. I got my hair did, too.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
oh Jake!
Today I picked up my summer vaca bummed niece and nephew to spend the day with us. We stopped to mail off a package for Sean and got my boys a high n' tight. You should see 'em! Oh...you will. The barber was a super patriotic type and commented on what a wise decision going into the military is with five kids. WHOA. He thought they were all mine. Aside from the insulting mental implications, how old do I look?? Jake is almost 12. Do I look old enough to have a 12 year old?
After the very expensive buzz jobs, we hit Chick fil A for lunch. I had a very insightful conversation with my Jacob. The boy has turned into a...tween. He's got life completely figured out, though. He's a great kid that gets a bad rap. It's tough growing up. It's even tougher growing up redheaded and too smart for your own good.
I can't pinpoint when Jake went from goofy little kid to someone who is actually fun to be around. That sounds bad, but you know what I mean. One day he was like Simon, bouncing off the walls with the "why why why"s and now he gives one word answers and is too cool to make eye contact with his dorky aunt. It breaks my heart. It happened too fast and with no warning. It makes me wonder when I'll go from talking about little boys punching dead frogs to giggling with my friend about Simon's first zit.
**sidenote: I was seriously freaking out about the fact that Simon killed a frog the other day. Isn't that the first sign of a serial killer? That they kill small animals as children? My dad reassured me that the frog was already dead when Simon punched it. This is supposed to make me feel better?
more to come...
After the very expensive buzz jobs, we hit Chick fil A for lunch. I had a very insightful conversation with my Jacob. The boy has turned into a...tween. He's got life completely figured out, though. He's a great kid that gets a bad rap. It's tough growing up. It's even tougher growing up redheaded and too smart for your own good.
I can't pinpoint when Jake went from goofy little kid to someone who is actually fun to be around. That sounds bad, but you know what I mean. One day he was like Simon, bouncing off the walls with the "why why why"s and now he gives one word answers and is too cool to make eye contact with his dorky aunt. It breaks my heart. It happened too fast and with no warning. It makes me wonder when I'll go from talking about little boys punching dead frogs to giggling with my friend about Simon's first zit.
**sidenote: I was seriously freaking out about the fact that Simon killed a frog the other day. Isn't that the first sign of a serial killer? That they kill small animals as children? My dad reassured me that the frog was already dead when Simon punched it. This is supposed to make me feel better?
more to come...
Monday, July 13, 2009
the picture portion
Yesterday:
Titus' favorite person of the day. She asked for him. She danced. She didn't mind him licking her sweater. It was fun for us all.
Titus and the mommy-to-be, Nancy: 
The Grandma and a frantic Titus working his fist, wondering when his next meal will be:
Titus' favorite person of the day. She asked for him. She danced. She didn't mind him licking her sweater. It was fun for us all.
Titus and the mommy-to-be, Nancy: The Grandma and a frantic Titus working his fist, wondering when his next meal will be: Assuming the position should an opportunity present itself:
Today
The Cheese: 
He wasn't all that impressed, though he did adore the giant disco ball for a time.
I got a few good grins out of him. :)
I got a few good grins out of him. :) In a pensive mood just moments later:
One more of the wee man. He's filled out just a bit over the last three months. I can't believe 1/4 of his first year is already gone. 
One more of the wee man. He's filled out just a bit over the last three months. I can't believe 1/4 of his first year is already gone. the past few
I'm starting to look like a raccoon with all the lack of sleep going on 'round here. I'm usually pretty good with little sleep, but this is starting to suck.
Let's see. Some highlights...
Y'know what?I'm in a pretty crappy mood. I might just rant, toss in a few pictures and call it a day. I'll try to swirl in some sarcastic flavor to lighten myself up a bit. I've been in a funk since Sean called. I warned him telepathically before he called not to dare mention stress of any kind unless it was asking me if I was stressed out due to his mini's. I am. They are stressing me out. My parents are leaving for Hawaii on Wednesday and I have this sense of impending doom.
Don't think I haven't already broken proper rules of etiquette. I've asked several times if I can come along. My mom just laughs. She thinks I'm joking.
I saw this link on a blog. It is Titus. To a T. Sean said I'm trying to label him. Um, it wasn't hard. Every single bullet point describes him. I thought maybe it was me. As I was going down the list, thinking I had a broken baby, Sean said, "Listen to the list. That's me."
It is. I'm so glad such strong personality traits crossed through the gene barriers I had set up. All those long, conditioning talks I had with Titus through my belly button about being a laid back kiddo were wasted.
I love him, though. Oh how I love him. I love that he doesn't talk back or jump off of toy boxes. I love that he sticks his tongue out when he smiles. I love that he is totally clingy. It gets old sometimes, when my biceps are quivering and giving out from holding him all day{yes, I have a baby Bjorn. According to him, it's not the same}, but I do love that I can calm the little lunatic like no other. I love that he has a dimple just under his right eye, in addition to his cheeky ones. I love that he has red hair. I love that he rubs his face to fall asleep. I love that he's snuggly. I can't believe he's already 1/4 done with his first year.
Yesterday, he and I went to a baby shower. He was super awesome. He was great in the car on the way down and slept a good bit during the shower. Naturally, everyone at the party had baby on the brain. One sweet lady asked if she could dance with him. After telling her not to be offended if he screamed in her face, I passed him off. He loved her.
The shower was for a friend of mine who is pretty much extended family. Her little brother, Trevor, has been Sean's best friend forever and ever. Since second grade, I think. They are the greatest family. It's fun to watch them interact from the outside looking in, while at the same time totally feeling like you're one of them. Trevor's dad came right in after the party and gave me a big ole hug and a kiss on top of my head. He got Sean's # from me and called him before I even made it home. It made Sean's day. They're good people. They always end our visits with the best compliments. They tell us the love us and what fine boys we have, what great decisions we've made and how proud of us they are. They're genuinely great people.
Today, we got to see Sean's sister, Nikki and our nephew, Jimmy. We met up at Chuck E Cheese and then had dinner with Pop Pop. The kids were great all day, but by bed time Felix and Titus were both spent. Felix fell off a toy box and I thought he broke his elbow. Titus was screaming his head off and Simon was laughing.
Now, though, they are all off with Mr. Sandman and I'm thinking of taking up hard liquor.
pictures to come in a separate post. I didn't think about it ahead of time and I am in no mood to deal with blogger and their picture funkiness.
Let's see. Some highlights...
Y'know what?I'm in a pretty crappy mood. I might just rant, toss in a few pictures and call it a day. I'll try to swirl in some sarcastic flavor to lighten myself up a bit. I've been in a funk since Sean called. I warned him telepathically before he called not to dare mention stress of any kind unless it was asking me if I was stressed out due to his mini's. I am. They are stressing me out. My parents are leaving for Hawaii on Wednesday and I have this sense of impending doom.
Don't think I haven't already broken proper rules of etiquette. I've asked several times if I can come along. My mom just laughs. She thinks I'm joking.
I saw this link on a blog. It is Titus. To a T. Sean said I'm trying to label him. Um, it wasn't hard. Every single bullet point describes him. I thought maybe it was me. As I was going down the list, thinking I had a broken baby, Sean said, "Listen to the list. That's me."
It is. I'm so glad such strong personality traits crossed through the gene barriers I had set up. All those long, conditioning talks I had with Titus through my belly button about being a laid back kiddo were wasted.
I love him, though. Oh how I love him. I love that he doesn't talk back or jump off of toy boxes. I love that he sticks his tongue out when he smiles. I love that he is totally clingy. It gets old sometimes, when my biceps are quivering and giving out from holding him all day{yes, I have a baby Bjorn. According to him, it's not the same}, but I do love that I can calm the little lunatic like no other. I love that he has a dimple just under his right eye, in addition to his cheeky ones. I love that he has red hair. I love that he rubs his face to fall asleep. I love that he's snuggly. I can't believe he's already 1/4 done with his first year.
Yesterday, he and I went to a baby shower. He was super awesome. He was great in the car on the way down and slept a good bit during the shower. Naturally, everyone at the party had baby on the brain. One sweet lady asked if she could dance with him. After telling her not to be offended if he screamed in her face, I passed him off. He loved her.
The shower was for a friend of mine who is pretty much extended family. Her little brother, Trevor, has been Sean's best friend forever and ever. Since second grade, I think. They are the greatest family. It's fun to watch them interact from the outside looking in, while at the same time totally feeling like you're one of them. Trevor's dad came right in after the party and gave me a big ole hug and a kiss on top of my head. He got Sean's # from me and called him before I even made it home. It made Sean's day. They're good people. They always end our visits with the best compliments. They tell us the love us and what fine boys we have, what great decisions we've made and how proud of us they are. They're genuinely great people.
Today, we got to see Sean's sister, Nikki and our nephew, Jimmy. We met up at Chuck E Cheese and then had dinner with Pop Pop. The kids were great all day, but by bed time Felix and Titus were both spent. Felix fell off a toy box and I thought he broke his elbow. Titus was screaming his head off and Simon was laughing.
Now, though, they are all off with Mr. Sandman and I'm thinking of taking up hard liquor.
pictures to come in a separate post. I didn't think about it ahead of time and I am in no mood to deal with blogger and their picture funkiness.
Friday, July 10, 2009
frustrating
*I tried to update my blog from my phone today while I sipped my frothy Starbucks in my air conditioned auto. I couldn't get it to work in a timely fashion and gave up. **How frustrating.
**Seriously though, how flipping spoiled is this generation?? I was getting a little aggravated at the Starbucks man for taking too long making my drink too. In my defense, all three kids fell asleep in the car at the same time. That has never happened before. I did actually laugh at my own nonsense when I couldn't update my blog from my phone. That's just ridiculous. Technology advancement is happening too quickly these days and making for some very lame people, including myself. I wouldn't know how to function if we went back to the stoneages of handwritten messages.
Other frustrating things:
*Being in the car.
*Being in the car with Titus.
*Being near the car with Titus.
*Being near the car seat with Titus.
*Being on the verge of even thinking about being in the car with Titus.
I am going on strike. I refuse to take that child with me anywhere. I think normal babies go to sleep in the car. Abnormal babies, like Titus, shriek at the top of their lungs. He likes to shake it up a bit. Sometimes he screams when the car is in motion and only stops when the car stops. Other times, he screams when the car is stopped and only stops when the car is moving. He likes to keep me guessing. There have been a few times that he has had me in tears. He is just so pitiful and his whimpers get me so frazzled. The only time he ever sheds real tears is in the car. It really is very sad. And stressful. I am really looking forward to that drive to Alabama. And then Texas. OOh goody goody.
*Another big frustration:
Movers. Wouldn't you think if movers were coming to pack up an entire household, they'd want to get an early start? I assumed 8, 8:30 maybe. Nope. I was told they would be arriving between 10-10:30. When they finally got there at 11:45, I was still hopeful that maybe they were some Flash Gordon types. My hopes were quickly dashed upon the rocks of reality. Two guys. They sent two guys to pack a three story townhouse. I won't give specific frustrations related to the day, but by the time they finally left at almost NINE p.m. I was done. So were the kids. So were the packers. Kids, stay in school. I can not think of a worse job in the entire world.
It will be like Christmas when we are reunited with our belongings. Literally. I have no idea what will actually make it to Texas. I think it's probably a bad thing when the mover asks, "Just out of curiosity, how much does one of these go for?" Luckily, it's all insured.
*What's even more frustrating than the movers?
Telling the carpet cleaners that they{the movers} should be done by 4. The extra trip out by the carpet cleaners cost me another $25. Not bad, but added to the fortune they were already charging to clean said carpets...frustrating.
*Also frustrating. Having to stay in a hotel to let those carpet cleaners back in the next day since the movers took until 9 pm.
*Even more frustrating. Turning in my keys, paying my pro-rated rent, coming all the way home amongst screaming lunatic children, breathing a small sigh of relief that it's done and I shouldn't have to make the drive to Charlotte again any time soon only to realize...The movers didn't check the attic. Why would they check the attic? Because it would take just a tiny amount of common sense? Our tree & Christmas ornaments are in the attic.
Hooray. I get to spend another 6 hours in the car. With my kids. For ornaments. I can't wait.
On a happy note, the days are going by pretty quickly. Sean is doing okay at COT. His roommate is an internal medicine doctor with four kids. I asked Sean if his family is moving now too and he said, "I don't know. All I know is that every time he calls, those kids are going nuts. I told him, 'Man, your wife is gonna stab you...'" I interrupted his little story with, "So is yours." I was only kidding, but four is only one more than what I'm dealing with.
I haven't complained a single word to him about the kids. I've been awesome, if I do say so myself. I don't want to stress him out anymore than he already is. Maybe that's why I've been a little whiny on the ole blog. It's all typed with a smile. I hope I don't come across as a whiner, I try to mix in a little humor with the chaos and frustration so as not to appear whimpy. I can do this. I am doing this. Five weeks is nothing. Well, nothing compared to the deployments we will face.
Ooh, something happy, I found a dress for Sean's graduation. There are actually a couple of different functions I'll be attending with him and apparently, I can't wear the same dress twice. Aw shucks. So here's one of 'em. I don't want to upload the picture this far into my post or it will jack everything up. It's not that casual looking in real life, but this is the best picture I could find of it online.
And I want to chop all of my hair off, like this. Jude, will that style work in my funk?
The most frustrating thing of all about trying to move and deal with the government, your household, a million kids and just life in general...I'm too tired to think by the end of the night. This is normally my alone time. I don't want to waste it sleeping. Oh well. Here's to tomorrow and another day of WHAT NOW?
**Seriously though, how flipping spoiled is this generation?? I was getting a little aggravated at the Starbucks man for taking too long making my drink too. In my defense, all three kids fell asleep in the car at the same time. That has never happened before. I did actually laugh at my own nonsense when I couldn't update my blog from my phone. That's just ridiculous. Technology advancement is happening too quickly these days and making for some very lame people, including myself. I wouldn't know how to function if we went back to the stoneages of handwritten messages.
Other frustrating things:
*Being in the car.
*Being in the car with Titus.
*Being near the car with Titus.
*Being near the car seat with Titus.
*Being on the verge of even thinking about being in the car with Titus.
I am going on strike. I refuse to take that child with me anywhere. I think normal babies go to sleep in the car. Abnormal babies, like Titus, shriek at the top of their lungs. He likes to shake it up a bit. Sometimes he screams when the car is in motion and only stops when the car stops. Other times, he screams when the car is stopped and only stops when the car is moving. He likes to keep me guessing. There have been a few times that he has had me in tears. He is just so pitiful and his whimpers get me so frazzled. The only time he ever sheds real tears is in the car. It really is very sad. And stressful. I am really looking forward to that drive to Alabama. And then Texas. OOh goody goody.
*Another big frustration:
Movers. Wouldn't you think if movers were coming to pack up an entire household, they'd want to get an early start? I assumed 8, 8:30 maybe. Nope. I was told they would be arriving between 10-10:30. When they finally got there at 11:45, I was still hopeful that maybe they were some Flash Gordon types. My hopes were quickly dashed upon the rocks of reality. Two guys. They sent two guys to pack a three story townhouse. I won't give specific frustrations related to the day, but by the time they finally left at almost NINE p.m. I was done. So were the kids. So were the packers. Kids, stay in school. I can not think of a worse job in the entire world.
It will be like Christmas when we are reunited with our belongings. Literally. I have no idea what will actually make it to Texas. I think it's probably a bad thing when the mover asks, "Just out of curiosity, how much does one of these go for?" Luckily, it's all insured.
*What's even more frustrating than the movers?
Telling the carpet cleaners that they{the movers} should be done by 4. The extra trip out by the carpet cleaners cost me another $25. Not bad, but added to the fortune they were already charging to clean said carpets...frustrating.
*Also frustrating. Having to stay in a hotel to let those carpet cleaners back in the next day since the movers took until 9 pm.
*Even more frustrating. Turning in my keys, paying my pro-rated rent, coming all the way home amongst screaming lunatic children, breathing a small sigh of relief that it's done and I shouldn't have to make the drive to Charlotte again any time soon only to realize...The movers didn't check the attic. Why would they check the attic? Because it would take just a tiny amount of common sense? Our tree & Christmas ornaments are in the attic.
Hooray. I get to spend another 6 hours in the car. With my kids. For ornaments. I can't wait.
On a happy note, the days are going by pretty quickly. Sean is doing okay at COT. His roommate is an internal medicine doctor with four kids. I asked Sean if his family is moving now too and he said, "I don't know. All I know is that every time he calls, those kids are going nuts. I told him, 'Man, your wife is gonna stab you...'" I interrupted his little story with, "So is yours." I was only kidding, but four is only one more than what I'm dealing with.
I haven't complained a single word to him about the kids. I've been awesome, if I do say so myself. I don't want to stress him out anymore than he already is. Maybe that's why I've been a little whiny on the ole blog. It's all typed with a smile. I hope I don't come across as a whiner, I try to mix in a little humor with the chaos and frustration so as not to appear whimpy. I can do this. I am doing this. Five weeks is nothing. Well, nothing compared to the deployments we will face.
Ooh, something happy, I found a dress for Sean's graduation. There are actually a couple of different functions I'll be attending with him and apparently, I can't wear the same dress twice. Aw shucks. So here's one of 'em. I don't want to upload the picture this far into my post or it will jack everything up. It's not that casual looking in real life, but this is the best picture I could find of it online.
And I want to chop all of my hair off, like this. Jude, will that style work in my funk?
The most frustrating thing of all about trying to move and deal with the government, your household, a million kids and just life in general...I'm too tired to think by the end of the night. This is normally my alone time. I don't want to waste it sleeping. Oh well. Here's to tomorrow and another day of WHAT NOW?
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Jacko
I think I owe it to my kids to tell them all about Michael Jackson from my point of view. I've always wondered what the Beatles or Elvis was all about when my mom was growing up, so here goes.
Michael Jackson has been around forever and ever. The music I like of his was actually a bit before my time. I like the chubby, sweet-faced Michael Jackson. The little boy that sang love songs with his brothers. There was a time in high school that Jackson5 was always in my cd player. Always. I'll Be There is still one of my favorite songs ever.
Over the years, Michael Jackson turned more Whacko than Jacko. He started cutting off bits and pieces of his face for some unknown reason. I don't know if it's some disease or if he just likes the skeletal look. Weirder than his looks, he started having babies. He kept their faces covered. He dangled them over balconies. He didn't seem the type that should really be procreating to begin with. After finally seeing their faces uncovered since his death, it's even creepier. They have a children of the corn look and their hair is blonder, their eyes bluer than my own boys. Just in case it gets lost in history, this is creepy because Michael Jackson is actually black. Or was. I've seen other pictures of the kids with brown hair and brown eyes. I suppose he was bleaching their hair in the beginning?
MJ is being buried today. As if there hasn't been enough press coverage on every single television station this week, they are going nuts today. I heard an interview on the radio. "I've been obsessed with Michael since I was a fetus. When I heard the news, I felt as if someone very close to me had been taken. After three days of crying, I finally made the decision to come up here to be near him."
That was a man. A grown man saying that about a celebrity. First of all, he's not close to you. He didn't know your name. He was not your family. He never did anything for you but take your money for his records. Secondly, what self respecting grown man cries over a pop star for three solid days?
This bothers me for several reasons actually. A few people have actually spoken out about the press coverage being a little over the top and been lambasted for it. The fact of the matter is, these whacked out fans are taking away from his real family. They aren't giving them room to grieve. It's turned into an absolute circus that is costing tax payers millions of dollars. L.A. County has set up a site for donations on their main page. Someone has to pay the police officers overtime. They are shutting down main highways in L.A. because of the funeral.
It bothers me, too, because there are lots of people that die everyday. People who are actually doing something besides squealing into a microphone. People who get their heads blown off by terrorists. Police officers who get shot. Firemen who get lost in the flames. People who give their lives for us. Not pop stars. People who get paid a lot less and give a lot more. People who don't have $40 million to pay off little boys they've molested. The man was a pedophile who is being idolized b/c of the amount of records he sold. That bothers me.
So there ya go. I'm bothered. I feel sorry for his kids. I feel sorry for his family that they have to figure out his estate. I feel sorry that he's dead. At the same time, I think he was a sick man that got away with hurting children. One can argue the "he was never convicted line," but I don't know many innocent people that pay their victims $20 million each.
Just had to get that out.
Michael Jackson has been around forever and ever. The music I like of his was actually a bit before my time. I like the chubby, sweet-faced Michael Jackson. The little boy that sang love songs with his brothers. There was a time in high school that Jackson5 was always in my cd player. Always. I'll Be There is still one of my favorite songs ever.
Over the years, Michael Jackson turned more Whacko than Jacko. He started cutting off bits and pieces of his face for some unknown reason. I don't know if it's some disease or if he just likes the skeletal look. Weirder than his looks, he started having babies. He kept their faces covered. He dangled them over balconies. He didn't seem the type that should really be procreating to begin with. After finally seeing their faces uncovered since his death, it's even creepier. They have a children of the corn look and their hair is blonder, their eyes bluer than my own boys. Just in case it gets lost in history, this is creepy because Michael Jackson is actually black. Or was. I've seen other pictures of the kids with brown hair and brown eyes. I suppose he was bleaching their hair in the beginning?
MJ is being buried today. As if there hasn't been enough press coverage on every single television station this week, they are going nuts today. I heard an interview on the radio. "I've been obsessed with Michael since I was a fetus. When I heard the news, I felt as if someone very close to me had been taken. After three days of crying, I finally made the decision to come up here to be near him."
That was a man. A grown man saying that about a celebrity. First of all, he's not close to you. He didn't know your name. He was not your family. He never did anything for you but take your money for his records. Secondly, what self respecting grown man cries over a pop star for three solid days?
This bothers me for several reasons actually. A few people have actually spoken out about the press coverage being a little over the top and been lambasted for it. The fact of the matter is, these whacked out fans are taking away from his real family. They aren't giving them room to grieve. It's turned into an absolute circus that is costing tax payers millions of dollars. L.A. County has set up a site for donations on their main page. Someone has to pay the police officers overtime. They are shutting down main highways in L.A. because of the funeral.
It bothers me, too, because there are lots of people that die everyday. People who are actually doing something besides squealing into a microphone. People who get their heads blown off by terrorists. Police officers who get shot. Firemen who get lost in the flames. People who give their lives for us. Not pop stars. People who get paid a lot less and give a lot more. People who don't have $40 million to pay off little boys they've molested. The man was a pedophile who is being idolized b/c of the amount of records he sold. That bothers me.
So there ya go. I'm bothered. I feel sorry for his kids. I feel sorry for his family that they have to figure out his estate. I feel sorry that he's dead. At the same time, I think he was a sick man that got away with hurting children. One can argue the "he was never convicted line," but I don't know many innocent people that pay their victims $20 million each.
Just had to get that out.
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