coo-hoo-lin

I mentioned in my previous post that I was at my aunt and uncle's house for Easter Sunday, and they have a dog named Coohoolin (spelling in ?). I go to their house several times a year and I see this dog and wonder about his name, but have never asked, probably because I always think about it right before I get on the freeway on my way home.

I don't know how many times I thought I would email my Uncle Fred when I got home and ask, but it is a long drive and my mind wanders. It isn't anything important, don't even know why I'm writing about it really, except that it always makes me think of the book Angela's Ashes. In the book, Frank McCourt's dad would tell him a story about Cuchulain (pronounced coo-hoo-lin), the Hound of Cuchlain, the boy who accidentally killed a dog of that name, and took over the name and job as guard dog, and became a hero of Ireland. It is a great and wacky story, from a book that inspires oddly warm feelings in me, and for some reason makes me like their dog more, even if that isn't where they got the name from.

I like the book so much because like the book Rain of Gold (which I highly recommend), it reminds me of my family. The mother in both books was nuts, different kind of nuts, but both a bit, not really crazy, but colorful. Colorful is something there is a lot of in my family, and for a long time it embarrassed the hell out of me, but I've come to appreciate it more over the years. In the generation of my grandparents everyone was colorful, my Nana taught me how to drink like a lady one night, and would throw on her Reebok's and go chasing the cows, she married three men that were all related to each other, and had a boyfriend when she died that I think she didn't marry because he wasn't family (she always mentioned that none of them were related to her, only to each other).

My grandfather was quite the character himself, and our family is still very close to his mistress' granddaughter. Not to be undone, one of her sisters is a witch, although there could be no cooler witch than my Tia Nena, and she wouldn't curse family, after my Nana died they were driving back from her ranch in Mexico, and she started to worry crossing the border because they brought back goat cheese that she swore smelled like poo-ssy. That is just a brief overview of how colorful our family is, and that is just my mom's side, I have posted previously on some of my other grandmother's eccentricities.

This is turning into a really long post to say that I miss that kind of stuff in the rest of the world. It seems like the only colorful people there are these days are a dying breed, or characters in books. Everyone is trying so hard to be exactly the same, same hair, same body, same clothes, same PC jokes, we have gotten so afraid of offending someone or standing out that we have become flat out boring.

I saw a documentary recently that a friend recommended, called Home Movie (also think the doc. Plagues and Pleasures on the Salton Sea has something to do with my current frame of mind), and it had the most eccentric people in it. I kind of wish more people would build their houses in trees or abandoned missile silos, but I guess who am I to talk, as I write this from my cookie cutter house in the Pardee development.

I sure got awfully wordy, just wondering about where a dog's name came from.

trees, and bunnies and eggs, oh my!

It was brought to my attention today that I haven't blogged in a while, so I felt like I should at least try to get something down, see if it flows. The main reason that I haven't been writing is that life has gotten fairly boring in the last few weeks. Who really wants to read about math homework, and housework I should be doing, but haven't, and the fact that I am Mexican and failing Spanish?

Today was Easter, and it was a good day, although I had been dreading it, it wound up just being nice. I was actually the only one to throw a tantrum, and even that was early in the day, and I got over it.

I made the kids dress in nice clothes today, I really only make them do that twice a year, at Thanksgiving and Easter, and they get new clothes so they don't mind so much. This morning as I was getting Billy dressed for the day, he had taken a shower and I took off his towel to dress him, and as he stood there naked, he had his eyes closed really tight. I asked him why his eyes were closed, and he told me it was because he didn't want me to see him naked. How could I stay in a bad mood after that?

That is all I really have for now, and I know it isn't the best post, but it is a great excuse to put up a picture of my kids, and now Uncle Fred can't accuse me of being like all the other bloggers that write for a while and then just quit.

Side Note: I just read that a guy in Italy hypnotized a store clerk, and then robbed the store. (Now that's just funny) I won't post the link, I'm sure it will be easy to Google, and since there is video it should be worthwhile.

r.i.p. mr. buckley

I recently came upon this old Zen saying:

Sit quietly,
doing nothing,
spring comes,
and the grass grows by itself.

It sounds really nice, like you can just spend the day in a hammock watching life unfold around you because it's going to happen anyway. Sounds nice, yes, but having been sick this past week, I am reminded of just what the results of my doing nothing can be. You see, even though the grass continued to grow without me, so did the mess in my house, and when I sit quietly and do nothing, usually nothing is exactly what gets done. This is not a complaint, I expect that my life should require effort on my part, and it makes me feel like what I do matters somehow.

I think that this saying has it's time and place, but the people that I admire most, those that have made a difference, none of them sat quietly and did nothing. Yesterday William F. Buckley Jr. died, and whether or not you agree with the things that he had to say, he accomplished a great deal. He was incredibly prolific, having written about 4 dozen books, hosted "Firing Line" for many years, and had a regular newspaper column, and that is just a fraction of the things he did. I was looking on Wikipedia yesterday at just the size of the list of his accomplishments, and it occured to me that I have something in common with this man, and it's not just politics, it is that he had the same number of hours in his days.

I don't want to be like Buckley, even though I like to write, I don't really want to be a writer, although Buckley was one of the reasons that I used to think that I did. I just believe that good things come through doing, not waiting, and he was a doer. I don't want to be the kind of person that says, "I couldn't because...(insert excuse here)." I would rather have a go at it.

I don't need to make an impact on the whole world, just my corner of it, little by little. Sitting and doing nothing gets you just that.

"Act like you expect to get into the end zone."
-Joe Paterno

(Hey Mike-check it out, I quoted Paterno)

tim

Meet Tim. Tim is Billy's best friend. He was a gift from my cousin Monique for his first birthday, and they have been buddies ever since. In this picture he is dressed as Darth Vader, and he and Billy just had a fight with light sabers, though I am informed by my son that being Darth Vader, his light saber should have been red.

The other day, Billy put his shoes on Tim, as well as a shirt and ball cap, and played baseball with him. He would throw the ball to the dog, and then say things like, "Good job buddy, you almost had that one!" He was very encouraging, and I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. Needless to say I love Tim, although I would love him more if I was allowed to throw him in the washing machine once in a while, but I am told that Tim never takes a bath.

Tim is just another, in a line of stuffed animals that have brought much joy to our family. We have night time bear, which is Emma's bear that my friend Pam brought for her when she was visiting from Egypt, it is the ugliest thing that I have ever seen, but to this day Emma can't sleep without it. We also have Barky the dog, which Katie found on the floor of TJ Max when she was 18 months old, and I'm not even sure it was for sale, but they gave him to me for 4 bucks, and he is still around today, although sewn back together several times.

Jack doesn't have one, he has lots of stuffed objects that he sleeps with from time to time, but not any particular one that he considers special. I like to think it is because he is so secure that he doesn't need one, but that doesn't bode well for the other three kids.

So this is my little tribute to furrry friends that don't require feeding, or cleaning up after.

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival."
- C. S. Lewis

birthday boy

Happy Birthday Jackson! love, Mommy

So, we had Jack's birthday party on Sunday, I still can't believe he's six already,I better be careful not to blink or I'll miss it all.

The party was fun, worth all of the work that goes into it, and I even managed to have the house cleaned up before I went to bed at the end of it. Still shining my sink.

That night was brutal though, Jack and Katie both got sick, and I had a steady rotation of kids in my bed throughout the night, which is not conducive to a good nights sleep. Jack does get the kid of the year award though, because he managed to not throw up on me in bed, and although had he, I would not have been upset with him, I am no less appreciative that he managed to hold his own(so to speak) until he got to the bathroom.

Mike, Katie and Jack all stayed home sick, and managed to destroy my clean house in a way that 40 people the previous day couldn't accomplish. I am actually writing this to prolong the misery of having to clean up the wreckage of their past, but I guess I better get to it.

i hate science

I usually am the one who does all of the school projects with the kids, from building missions, posterboard state maps, family tree cereal boxes, etc. Whatever the school throws at us, I hate it, but I do it anyway. I don't like that my kids get so many projects that I am expected to participate in, I already went to elementary school, and frankly I have other things that I need to get done.

Science fair was supposed to be Mike's turn. I took a stand and said I wasn't going to have anything to do with it(yeah right), but at the time I meant it. It took a while to come up with an experiment that the teacher would approve of, long gone are the days of building volcanos, they have decided to do with any chance that you might learn to enjoy science.

Mike's experiment was complicated, I say Mike's because I don't think Emma even knows exactly what it is yet, although it was turned in today, he was still explaining it to her late last night.

The thing is that I should have stayed out of it, as I had been so determined to do, but I didn't, I caved big. It started when they needed 6 little greenhouses for the project, so okay, I built the greenhouses. They were falling behind time wise, and something had to be done, right?

I kept telling Mike that I would not be spending an entire day working on this because they waited until the last minute to get it done, but that is exactly what happened. I spent about 10 hours yesterday working on it because it was due today, and now I am mad at myself. The worst part is that he knew that if he waited I would do it, it's why he waited, so today I am feeling a little taken advantage of, but I am madder at myself for letting it happen. I should have just left, let her not do well, and make him take some responsibility, because I know as well as anybody that nothing that happens in the 5th grade goes on your 'permanent record'.

I guess I'll have to try and make my stand next year, and there is a bonus, because right now he owes me big and he knows it.

black dog

This post is dedicated to all of you Zeppelinians, Zeppelinistas, Zeppelinites.

I seem to have caught a great deal of grief over my comments about Led Zeppelin being soft rock. You see, XM radio has implemented a channel dedicated to Led Zeppelin, 24 hours a day, all Zeppelin, all the time. Any time throughout the day you can think, wow I could use me some D'yer Mak'er, or Stairway to Heaven right now, all you have to do is turn it on, there it is.

Now, when Mike told me about this station, I thought he was joking because everytime we turned the radio on there was a Zeppelin song playing, but, no it is an actual station. Everytime I pull the headphones out of his radio so that I can listen to something, that is what is on, because he likes to listen to it to drift off to sleep. This is when I made the comment, "I can undertsand your wanting to listen to a little soft rock to get to sleep." He proceeded to act like I had just hit him below the belt, and apparently he isn't the only man that's 'sensitive' about his Zeppelin.

I am not trying to put your little band down, I actually love Led Zeppelin, but it is something that I put on to relax, not get things going, because it's soft, dare I say, easy listening.

I will give you that they might have been considered hard in their day, but it's been a long time since they rock and rolled, I believed they released their last album(that's right album, vinyl) in 1979. So, to all of you that seem to have a problem with my classification, you should know that the only thing you are revealing with you objections is your age.

Side note - I miss my black dog.

aughh!!!!

Mike got me an ipod as a gift last Valentine's Day, which was very nice of him, and last night I finally decided it was time to upload all of my Cd's. This will probably take a few days to do, which is why I Had been putting it off for so long, I already had about 1500 songs on my computer from when song sharing via the Internet was free and easy anyway, so i figured why bother, but a friend recently got one and did it right away, and I didn't want to be one-upped.

So, I went around the house trying to gather all of my Cd's that were still usable, because my kids seem to think that they are frisbees, and I got a good collection going, and then I went to the van to get those out. I managed to get about 30 done last night, with an American Idol break in between, not so bad.

This morning when I woke at my usual, too freaking early, time, I got the kids up, and fed, and ready for school. When it was time to take Jack, I couldn't find my keys (also not unusual), so I grabbed a spare, and we were on our way. I found my keys in the ignition of my van, I had to turn it on to get my Cd's out of the player last night, and I left it on, and now it would not start. SHIT!!!

So, now my battery is charging, and the sting is wearing off from the, my wife is an idiot, look on my husband's face this morning (frankly, I think he's just mad because I called Led Zepplin soft rock), and I can't help but wonder, is Cat Stevens Greatest Hits really worth all of this.

burnt toast

My house smells like burnt toast.

On Saturday(note that I am writing this on Friday), while I was out, Mike tried to make toast for one of the kids, and got distracted by something in the process, as happens, but it was how we discovered that our toaster no longer pops the toast up.
I do not know how long it stayed in there burning, only that it was long enough to make the smell last for almost a week now.

We have tried all sorts of the things to remedy it, but to no avail. That day he took all of the kids with him to the grocery store to buy chocolate chip cookie fixings hoping it would mask the smell, it did not. I had him boil cinnamon sticks in a pot of water, didn't work. I made fish for dinner, twice, didn't work(it was really good though).
We have had baking soda out all week hoping to absorb it, hasn't worked.

Sometimes I start to think that it might be gone, and then I leave and come back, and it's there again, I just grow used to it.

Any ideas?

I should offer a reward for whooever figures out how to make the smell go away, not a big reward, a small reward, toast maybe.

silliness

I have spent the last while listening to my girls argue about Star Wars, it started when Katie asked the question, "If Luke and Princess Leia are brother and sister, then why isn't Luke a prince?" This led to several other questions that I didn't have the answer to, about whether Padme was, or was not a queen. I was left wondering who Padme was, because I have only seen the original trilogy, and really am not geeky enough to know the answers. I have to start remembering them and ask my friend Jess' husband, who I'm sure will know how the Star Wars lineage unfolds.

I was saved from this conversation when they went outside to do a rain dance, and becasue it is, in fact, about to rain, I am sure they will come in believing that they made it happen.

I took the boys to lunch today at Macaroni Grill, and as we were leaving the waitress waved at Jackson, he told me that it was because she thought he was so handsome, and then informed me that girls really like handsome boys. I am thinking that we might have to tone down the stroking of his ego, may the force be with him.

The girls just came back in to tell me that their rain dance worked, did I call that one, or what?


"Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?"- Yoda

I wonder why guys like Star Wars so much.

role playing

So, I finally got my brakes fixed after six months of complaining about them. It was actually starting to become a sore spot between Mike and me, I would mention that they needed to be fixed and he would roll his eyes (this is where communications skills would have come in handy, because to me it meant annoyance at having to pay for something ELSE). What it did mean was, so stop talking about it and get them fixed.

I can see , where he is coming from with that, since marriage I sort of fell into the idea that there are certain jobs that are his and certain jobs that are mine, and I should never do his, but he can do mine from time to time. I mean why get married if it isn't for someone to fix your car, carry heavy stuff, and take care of the trash and dog poop, it certainly wasn't for enlightening conversation. Mike is actually a great guy, and does more than most husbands and fathers I know. He didn't push me into the idea, I fell there all by myself, maybe because it was the easier place to go. I used to fix my own cars, and I don't mean get them fixed, but do the actual work. I had an old car, tools, and a Chilton's manual, and I kept it running.

I think it's time to find some of that again, it is very easy to say that I am too tired, or I have too much else going on, but there are so many, that have done so much more, with so much less. I am not talking about fixing my own car (they are way too compilcated now), but there are so many things where I could take the initiative, instead of waiting for things to get done around me.

This post went in a direction that I wasn't expecting, I was thinking I was going to write about faith and confusion, but I will save that for later.

I was just informed by a friend that there was another Navy helicopter accident, so if anyone reading this could put a few minutes of their thoughts and prayers out for the families of the three men that died, I'm sure it could only help.

nice package

A bomb squad in Sweden was sent to an apartment building the other day when the janitor found a suspicious package. The building was cleared and a team of experts,"opened the package with bomb disposal equipment", only to find a vibrating sex toy. He called it in because "the package was humming and vibrating suspiciously." How embarrassing for all involved. Will the woman(I am assuming woman) that dropped, or discarded the box be questioned? I don't know, but I know that I am glad it happened, because I enjoyed the story immensley. Some people can't get enough politics, war coverage, tragedy, or even feel good stories in their news, I like the embarrassing and hilarious stories.

It is almost as funny as the man in Indiana that shot himself in the pee-pee while robbing a convenience store.

crash and burn

I just crashed my car about 15 minutes ago, very minor, no damage done to either car involved. It was 100% my fault as well. The funny thing was that just minutes before my little crash I was thinking about what the best day I had this week was so that I could get my brakes fixed. This was just a fender bender, a little bump to slap me back into reality, and now days fenders don't even ding when they bend, they just pop right back into place.

The guy I hit, well who's car that I hit (didn't hit the actual guy), was fine, and Billy and Maggie and I were fine, and our cars were undamaged, so we all just shook hands and went our separate ways. No big deal right? No need to even mention it to my husband right?

When I got back into my car, I realized that I broke car accident etiquette (at least, according to the guidelines set by my insurance company). The first thing I said when I got out of my car was, "Are you alright?...I am so sorry, that was totally my fault." Sometimes I wish that I could still lie like I used to, but it just isn't in me any more.

I don't even know for sure that it was my bad brakes that were at fault, because at the time of the incident, I was looking around for my ipod.

As for the burn part, I was on my way back from my vet's office when this happened. My vet is in Bonsall, where my parents live, and I drove through Fallbrook to get there. Fallbrook is probably one of my favorite places I have ever been or lived, I love it there. For those that aren't from the San Diego area, Fallbrook is also one of the areas hit hardest by the recent fires. The road that I took into town divided the fire line. One side of the road was green and beautiful, and thick with trees, looking like a picture postcard of small town living. The other side of the road was a sea of charred oak, sad and beautiful in its own way, it reminded me of an Ansel Adams photograph.

The thing that made me really take notice was that there were sprouts of green popping up in all of that, already life is coming back into that area, all of that ash and char is great for the soil.

Now I am far from the greenest person in the world, but I do think everyone should do their part. That crying Indian guy in those commercials had its effect on me. I don't believe that we can destroy our planet, I think that it will kill us off before we get the chance, and start fresh again (probably using us as fertilizer). Earth will be fine, soon after we are gone there will be little sprouts of green.

victor

My cousin Victor comes to my house every Sunday to watch football, and hang out with the family. He has been doing this ever since he joined the Marines about nine years ago, with the exception of a nine month hiatus where he was deployed. Before he joined up I hardly knew him, as he grew up in Alaska, and is about eight years younger.

Victor is a great guy, and when Mike, or the kids, and I need anything, he is always offering to help us out. That being said, he isn't always the easiest person to take, and if introducing him to someone, or taking him to restaurant, you need to be prepared, because there is no filter for what comes out of his mouth. We have gotten to be really close, sometimes I don't know if I consider him more like a brother, or another kid. For example, the picture above is of him and Mike at my daughters 8th birthday party, his shirt says, "Boobies make me smile." I have actually had him turn a few of the shirts that he has worn inside-out before he came into the house, this one was tame.

My three youngest kids love him, as do Mike and I, Emma pretends not to like him, but sometimes she lets it slip. He is the typical uncle, he messes with them and tries to get them to pull his finger, etc... His favorite thing is to try to get the kids to touch his nasty big toe, that he has affectionately named, "Lucky". So far they have all managed to escape it.

His behavior had not seemed to rub off on any of the kids until recently. A few weeks ago Billy asked us to pull his finger, and today when I was tickling his feet, he said that I should be careful not to touch Lucky or my fingers would get stinky.
And so it is passed on to another generation, my children's children will now have to avoid pulling their Uncle Billy's finger.

I just realized that I can say whatever I want about Victor here, because like my husband, he doesn't read my blog. I will refrain from any really good stories for now, because I know the Bucs have tortured him enough this week.

Happy New year

How many of you looked like this today?

We rang in the new year last night in a most excellent way, we stayed home with the kids watching The Sound of Music. Very much my idea of a good time. I especially enjoyed that the girls, mostly Katie, were really interested in the history of what was going on in the movie, and we paused several times to explain Nazis, the Anschluss, patriotism, and love.

As usual the new year makes me think about the year we just left behind, and what I would like to do differently in the year ahead. I am not a resolution maker, I am in tune with myself enough to know that I won't follow through, and I see no reason to set myself up for failure. My friend Michele called today and asked me to give up diet coke with her, and I said sure, but as I type this I am drinking a diet coke (see what I mean?). So I have decided that instead of taking something away I would resolve to do something differently, so I have decided to keep my kitchen sink clean. That's it, pretty simple......heck I might even be able to handle it. I once did this home organization/decluttering thing called flylady(remember Jess?), and she would end all of the little reminder emails with, "Go shine your sink!" So I have no intention of promising a neat and orderly house, or that I'm going to walk the dog a half an hour every night, or stay on a diet for the next umpteen years, I'm just going to keep my kitchen sink clean.

There are a lot of things on a more personal level that I hope to give some attention to, but that is all I'll share..

How about you? Anyone got something they want to try and do better?

"Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things"

catching up..

It has been a while since I have written, and so everything that I want to write about is a bit jumbled up now. The holidays have been so busy this year that it seems like I didn't get the chance to enjoy them until they were over. ( I originally wrote that they had been 'busty' and hesitated a little bit before correcting it.)

The week before Christmas was one of the craziest ever, I think I like to see how much I can handle by by packing as many things as I can into a short period of time, and seeing if I crack. Now that I have survived, I have proof that I am strong, and getting an 'A' in physics, I also have proof that I am smart. If anyone for the rest of my life calls me stupid (not that it happens much), I can say, "No I'm not, I got an 'A' in physics."

Christmas eve we spent at my mother-in-laws' house, as we do every year, and it was great. I love getting to see the kids play with all of their cousins, maybe because I know what a luxury my cousins have been to me, I even have one or two that are more like brothers and sisters than cousins.

My mother in law is the best gift getter that I have ever met, she buys gifts for my kids that it would never occur to me to pick, and they are without fail a hit every time. She asked me the other night if I would go shopping with her next year to help her pick gifts for the kids, because she doesn't think she knows well enough what they might want, but watching Jack play with his magic set, I would beg to differ.

My favorite part of the year was on the way home that night. There is a neighborhood near where Mike grew up (by the Mormon church, for those in San Diego) that puts on a huge lights display, a few blocks worth of houses participate. We drove through on our way home Christmas eve, and the kids were 'oohing and ahhing' in the backseat, and towards the end, Billy, my precious 4 year old says, "Wow, our house is boring."

Well, this has gotten kind of long, or I would tell you all about the cousin that I'm feeling not very loving to this year, but I guess it's time to let bygones be bygones.

So a late Merry Christmas to all, I hope you had something in the day that you'll remember.

slumber party

Tonight my daughter had a slumber party for her 10th birthday, and it wasn't bad, aside from one obnoxious kid. The above picture was from a previous slumber party, this one was much louder, but I don't know that I have ever seen Emma have so much fun, so it was worth the noise. It is almost 1am and I can still hear them in the other room talking and watching High School Musical. This stuff is new territory for me, I wasn't a sleepover type of kid.

I really don't have anything to say about it, but I feel like at least one of them should be asleep before me, and I need to kill a little time. The nicest part of the night for me was sitting on the couch with Katie (she actually snuggled) and watching The Princess Diaries. Jack got so tired that he put himself to bed. Billy wanted to sleep out with the girls, and was upset when his dad wouldn't let him, so I took him upstairs and laid a sleeping bag on the floor of his bedroom, and read him Curious George books until he fell asleep.

I liked being a parent tonight, sometimes I forget to like it. I always love my kids, but sometimes I get so wrapped up in the daily grind that I forget to enjoy it. At the beginning of the night it was looking pretty grim, Mike actually managed to have three out of four kids crying a half an hour before the party started (that's got to be some kind of a record), but we pulled it out.

All in all it was a good night, I even managed to write and submit a really half-assed paper, while a houseful of kids ran around burning off their sugar buzz. Tonight I feel blessed.

low standards

The other day I went to a meeting at my daughter's school to discuss science fair projects, and left perturbed (I'm starting to notice a pattern with this). The woman at this meeting was a first grade teacher and regular judge at the science fair, and the entire time I was there I had to fight back the urge to correct her English.
English was not a second language to this woman, she has clearly spoken it her entire life, only with very little care. She interjected the word "like" into just about every sentence, along with frequent "you know's" and "stuff's." At one point she ansered a question with the response, "That don't work."

How does someone get a job as a teacher wihtout ever bothering to get an education?

There is a one in four chance that this woman will become my son's first grade teacher next year (or at least a one in four chance that I will have to go to the school and tell them I don't want her to be my son's teacher). I am sure this woman is very nice, but I don't think that it's a good idea for the person that is supposed to teach our kids the ins and outs of the English language not to have a very good grasp of it.

The system just don't work! (Yes, I know it's doesn't, but it was for effect.)

old friends

Tonight I had dinner with an old friend that I hadn't seen (or spoken to until recently) in about 15 years, and it got my mind racing on the way home. I am amazed that the conversation after so many years would come so easily, and that although there was a great deal of catching up it was as comfortable as if I was filling her in on the week that had just passed.
This friend was a very central person in my life once upon a time, and until our recent conversations I never realized that I was for her too.
It seems the right people just so happen to get put in our lives at exactly the right time, she was the person that taught me how to be a friend (a skill that I lacked at the time), simply by being one to me, and for that I will always be grateful.

I don't know where else to go with that so I will move on, and poke a little fun at my husband. Mike has been sick this weekend, and I don't mean he's had the flu, or bronchitis, or anything of any kind of serious nature, he simply has a cold. I realize that colds suck and nobody wants one, but he has laid in bed for pretty much the entire weekend moaning, "Oh god, Oh Jesus". Apparently head colds give him religion. I think he should actually be moaning "thank you god, thank you Jesus" because when he is sick he gets to stay home in bed, and moan. I cannot remember the last time that I got sick and got to spend the day in bed resting (it might have been when Billy was born), maybe I'm a little bit jealous. (You think?) Well, I will still make him chicken soup to speed up his recovery, and hope that he doesn't get a hangnail blowing his nose because then he might become completely unbearable.

shark

This is like the picture that Katie has put up as a background on my computer. It is very cool and very big, and scares me every time I close a page and it pops up. It is not the actual picture (it is REALLY scary) because the actual picture was too big to display here on this blog, and I am not computer savvy enough to figure out how to shrink it.
I don't like scary things, I seldom watch a scary movie and if someone were to jump out at me from behind a corner, I would probably hit them out of pure reflex, and then go change my pants. Now this picture in and of itself is not that scary, I know that it is just a picture, it just makes me jump a little becasue it takes me by surprise. It's not scary like birds are scary (birds freak me out).
It has just got me wondering about when I became such a chicken (eeek! that's a bird). I used to be tougher than this. My grandmother was afraid of heights, she would freak out crossing a bridge, even a little bridge, she spent most of her life not going anywhere because she was too scared. Speaking of being scared, she used scare me when I was a kid by taking her teeth out, she thought it was hilarious. I don't know if she was always scared, my knowledge of her life is limited to seventeen years, but I am starting to think that fears grow if we give into them, and that's when they become phobias. I am the only person I know that is afraid of birds, and I also know that it is an irrational fear, but still they make me very uneasy. I am also the only one I know that was attacked by geese and rescued by little girls with backpacks.
Fear is not always a bad thing, it keeps me out of bad neighborhoods, and prevents me from jumping out of perfectly good airplanes (that part might just be common sense), but I would like to be able to control it enough to not embarrass my daughter as I run across her school parking lot, screaming with my arms flailing about, trying (and failing) to escape a bird attack.