Now We are 4

Now We are 4

What Kind of Fuckery Is This?

I went to the mall to let the little Asian Ladies work their was magic on me -to deforest my eyebrows and I have two questions.

1. Why is it when I go to the cheap salons for eyebrow wax that I end up with Zits on my brow line for days? What sort of toxic freaking wax are you people using?


2. Why do all Asian aestheticians think I am Latina and give me unbelievably thin eyebrows?

And these questions aside......let me tell you what else has me spinning.

I'm putting on my make up, and furrow my brow looking at an errant eyebrow hair that said Asian Lady missed......and when I UN-FURROW THEM. The FURROW LINE STAYED.

WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

A WRINKLE? I AM NOT EVEN 40 DAMMIT!

Here you see it, in it's glory, sitting between my eyes like an leaning exclamation point.

You can see one clearly on the right - as you look at the picture, and one who is forming on the left.
BOTOX! I NEED SOME FUCKING BOTOX! AND COLLAGEN!
And what else do you have?
Sigh.
I'd put moisturizer there but with all the damn ZITS I got from the waxing I don't dare.

Bitterness, thy name is 39.

What Kind of Fuckery Is This?

I went to the mall to let the little Asian Ladies work their was magic on me -to deforest my eyebrows and I have two questions.

1. Why is it when I go to the cheap salons for eyebrow wax that I end up with Zits on my brow line for days? What sort of toxic freaking wax are you people using?


2. Why do all Asian aestheticians think I am Latina and give me unbelievably thin eyebrows?

And these questions aside......let me tell you what else has me spinning.

I'm putting on my make up, and furrow my brow looking at an errant eyebrow hair that said Asian Lady missed......and when I UN-FURROW THEM. The FURROW LINE STAYED.

WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

A WRINKLE? I AM NOT EVEN 40 DAMMIT!

Here you see it, in it's glory, sitting between my eyes like an leaning exclamation point.

You can see one clearly on the right - as you look at the picture, and one who is forming on the left.
BOTOX! I NEED SOME FUCKING BOTOX! AND COLLAGEN!
And what else do you have?
Sigh.
I'd put moisturizer there but with all the damn ZITS I got from the waxing I don't dare.

Bitterness, thy name is 39.

Fresh Aire II - And Some German Tapas

When I was getting ready to move to GA, a couple of my "outdoorsy" friends (rather, friends of friends) went on about THE GEORGIA MOUNTAINS. They were so excited about our opportunities to go the these mountains and do X Y Z. But I have to confess, being from the north, I only ever had a sketchy concept of what they meant. I have vague memories of civil war battles being fought "in the mountains" but really, I had no concept what they meant. Driving through the state on your way to FLA from the north, you get some hilly bits, and it's pretty. But you don't really get a big "WOW CHECK THIS OUT" sort of feeling as you head down the road.

This all changed last year when we went to Helen GA for a day trip.

Breathtaking in it's scenery, fun and touristy in it's setting we had a lovely time. So when my brother and sister in law decided to come down for the Tour de Georgia it was a great opportunity to drive up north to meet up with them.

We stopped on our way to Babyland General, where all real Cabbage Patch Babies are born. You see we've got some birthday shopping we're doing right now, and we though we might see if a Twin Adoption would be in the stars, for some twin boys we know. Jamil Cesar, who is Lil Satchmo's baby, came with us and got a special "Visitor" sticker to wear so that everyone would know he was NOT up for adoption, but was just visiting the place he was born.
He wore it proudly on his shirt.
It's such a fun silly place. The little guys had a great time checking out all the babies who were waiting for a home.

All the babies at Babyland General are available for adoption. They don't call them DOLLS - they are babies. On the wall in a place or two are some posters which explain the nuances and difference between the babies born there at Babyland and the Cabbage patch dolls you purchase at the store. But to their credit, they certainly don't distinguish when you bring your "store bought" baby in, they gave Jamil props just likehe was one of their high end hand made dolls made right there. Which really makes the magic complete for a little person who is fairly enthralled with the whole place.

We got to see a birth in the cabbage patch like last time. But this one was not a "private adoption" arranged specially for someone, rather it was just a regualr birth. The crowd got to name the baby, which was a lot of fun.

It's sort of odd and delightful to see even adults get excited when the new baby is "born" from the patch.

Lil Satchmo declared that he figured it was just a machine because there is no such thing as a "mother cabbage patch". I think perhaps he's been watching too many documentaries.

After we arranged our own adoption of a set of twins for OUR set of twins and picked up some new clothes for Jamil Cesar we packed it up for the mountains to meet Uncle Matt and Aunt April.

We stopped in at Charlemagne's Kingdom again to see the awesome train layout - geez this thing is amazing and then we all strolled across the street to try out this restaurant we had wanted to check out last time we were there. It's a German restaurant called Alstadterbut the surprise was, it was German TAPAS. Small plates. A little of this, a little of that. Fortunately, the beers were full size.

The food was freaking fantastic. I realize German Tapas SOUNDS like an Oxymoron but it was so much fun. We loved it.I had these things called PIG WINGS, pork apple butter bbq sauce- we also had sweet potato fries with gorgonzola cheese dip YUM!, we were ALMOST STUFFED when we left......but you know, with the Hansel and Gretel candy shop just down the street we had to stroll down there to check it out.

Eating delicious handmade candy in the fresh mountain air, seriously, the perfect end to a great day.


As a matter of fact, I have some pralines left that are calling my name right now. Why am I still sitting here?

Fresh Aire II - And Some German Tapas

When I was getting ready to move to GA, a couple of my "outdoorsy" friends (rather, friends of friends) went on about THE GEORGIA MOUNTAINS. They were so excited about our opportunities to go the these mountains and do X Y Z. But I have to confess, being from the north, I only ever had a sketchy concept of what they meant. I have vague memories of civil war battles being fought "in the mountains" but really, I had no concept what they meant. Driving through the state on your way to FLA from the north, you get some hilly bits, and it's pretty. But you don't really get a big "WOW CHECK THIS OUT" sort of feeling as you head down the road.

This all changed last year when we went to Helen GA for a day trip.

Breathtaking in it's scenery, fun and touristy in it's setting we had a lovely time. So when my brother and sister in law decided to come down for the Tour de Georgia it was a great opportunity to drive up north to meet up with them.

We stopped on our way to Babyland General, where all real Cabbage Patch Babies are born. You see we've got some birthday shopping we're doing right now, and we though we might see if a Twin Adoption would be in the stars, for some twin boys we know. Jamil Cesar, who is Lil Satchmo's baby, came with us and got a special "Visitor" sticker to wear so that everyone would know he was NOT up for adoption, but was just visiting the place he was born.
He wore it proudly on his shirt.
It's such a fun silly place. The little guys had a great time checking out all the babies who were waiting for a home.

All the babies at Babyland General are available for adoption. They don't call them DOLLS - they are babies. On the wall in a place or two are some posters which explain the nuances and difference between the babies born there at Babyland and the Cabbage patch dolls you purchase at the store. But to their credit, they certainly don't distinguish when you bring your "store bought" baby in, they gave Jamil props just likehe was one of their high end hand made dolls made right there. Which really makes the magic complete for a little person who is fairly enthralled with the whole place.

We got to see a birth in the cabbage patch like last time. But this one was not a "private adoption" arranged specially for someone, rather it was just a regualr birth. The crowd got to name the baby, which was a lot of fun.

It's sort of odd and delightful to see even adults get excited when the new baby is "born" from the patch.

Lil Satchmo declared that he figured it was just a machine because there is no such thing as a "mother cabbage patch". I think perhaps he's been watching too many documentaries.

After we arranged our own adoption of a set of twins for OUR set of twins and picked up some new clothes for Jamil Cesar we packed it up for the mountains to meet Uncle Matt and Aunt April.

We stopped in at Charlemagne's Kingdom again to see the awesome train layout - geez this thing is amazing and then we all strolled across the street to try out this restaurant we had wanted to check out last time we were there. It's a German restaurant called Alstadterbut the surprise was, it was German TAPAS. Small plates. A little of this, a little of that. Fortunately, the beers were full size.

The food was freaking fantastic. I realize German Tapas SOUNDS like an Oxymoron but it was so much fun. We loved it.I had these things called PIG WINGS, pork apple butter bbq sauce- we also had sweet potato fries with gorgonzola cheese dip YUM!, we were ALMOST STUFFED when we left......but you know, with the Hansel and Gretel candy shop just down the street we had to stroll down there to check it out.

Eating delicious handmade candy in the fresh mountain air, seriously, the perfect end to a great day.


As a matter of fact, I have some pralines left that are calling my name right now. Why am I still sitting here?

Feminism is Dead .Or.....

post feminism is alive and running the show at Fisher Price.

I'm either delighted or wildly offended. I can't decide which.

Feminism is Dead .Or.....

post feminism is alive and running the show at Fisher Price.

I'm either delighted or wildly offended. I can't decide which.

I'm Not Saying I'm Out of Touch But.......

When I was little, I used to love to watch Match Game. In my memory, it was one of the funniest shows that was on during the day in my pre-kindergarten days.
Once I was talking about it to my mother, and she only had the vaguest idea what I was talking about. It was something she barely remembered, and I couldn't understand HOW that could be true because it was something we did EVERY day. I'd have peanut butter and crackers with some kool-aid, and watch MATCH GAME. She was there. I REMEMBER her being there.
Then I realized - she was on the couch.....and she was asleep.

Motherhood has it's casualties, and one of them is that you tend to lose track of things. TV Shows, events, etc.....just blend into the background noise of the chaos of life when you are raising kids.

A great example of this is how I never watch the news. Ever. Commercials, even during the day, are chocked full of crap I don't want my kids exposed to. I'm not some "anti-TV" Nazi. But, I have my limits. Last year I was in Illinois during the Virginia Tech tragedy, and nearly went MAD trying to get away from it on the TV in my hotel.

Nothing has changed in the past year. I still don't watch network TV except either recorded so I can fast forward, or paused at such a length that I can also fast forward through said commercials. I only watch the news if, say, a tornado might be coming and then I'm really just watching the weather guys drool over their digital toys.

People talk about shows, and I seriously have no clue what they are talking about. There's no water cooler conversation about episodes of this or that, for me.

But, surprisingly, I don't care. I watch a lot of kids TV, and then again, my brain just ignores the TV a lot. I used to have TV rituals, rules. After school we used to RACE home to catch the MTV Top 20 countdown. Now I don't know which channel MTV is. Mrs Repressed and I used to have a "No eating during the XFiles" rule - because it always used to make us SICK when we did. There was ritual, excitement, and routine associated with TV. It held sway with me, and guided the way I planned my day and my night in many instance. Now, not so much.

Perhaps I've just changed one shiny box for another.

I'm Not Saying I'm Out of Touch But.......

When I was little, I used to love to watch Match Game. In my memory, it was one of the funniest shows that was on during the day in my pre-kindergarten days.
Once I was talking about it to my mother, and she only had the vaguest idea what I was talking about. It was something she barely remembered, and I couldn't understand HOW that could be true because it was something we did EVERY day. I'd have peanut butter and crackers with some kool-aid, and watch MATCH GAME. She was there. I REMEMBER her being there.
Then I realized - she was on the couch.....and she was asleep.

Motherhood has it's casualties, and one of them is that you tend to lose track of things. TV Shows, events, etc.....just blend into the background noise of the chaos of life when you are raising kids.

A great example of this is how I never watch the news. Ever. Commercials, even during the day, are chocked full of crap I don't want my kids exposed to. I'm not some "anti-TV" Nazi. But, I have my limits. Last year I was in Illinois during the Virginia Tech tragedy, and nearly went MAD trying to get away from it on the TV in my hotel.

Nothing has changed in the past year. I still don't watch network TV except either recorded so I can fast forward, or paused at such a length that I can also fast forward through said commercials. I only watch the news if, say, a tornado might be coming and then I'm really just watching the weather guys drool over their digital toys.

People talk about shows, and I seriously have no clue what they are talking about. There's no water cooler conversation about episodes of this or that, for me.

But, surprisingly, I don't care. I watch a lot of kids TV, and then again, my brain just ignores the TV a lot. I used to have TV rituals, rules. After school we used to RACE home to catch the MTV Top 20 countdown. Now I don't know which channel MTV is. Mrs Repressed and I used to have a "No eating during the XFiles" rule - because it always used to make us SICK when we did. There was ritual, excitement, and routine associated with TV. It held sway with me, and guided the way I planned my day and my night in many instance. Now, not so much.

Perhaps I've just changed one shiny box for another.

I wouldn't Eat the Boogers Out of a Dead Man's Nose...But....

Earlier tonight, I ate chocolate out of the ear of one of my youngest son.

It's true.

I didn't exactly mean to.

Well, I did....but I didn't.

We had been eating chocolate frosted brownies. And when we were done, and getting ready for bed, I noticed a smudge of what appeared to be chocolate icing in Baby Birdman's ear. So I scooped it out with my finger nail - wiped him off with a washcloth and was just about to wash my hands when I had a sudden query...

Was it chocolate? Remember the chocolate chip eggo incident?

Despite the infamous chocolate chip eggo incident from Lil Satchmo's newborn days, I still stuck my finger in my mouth to see what it was.

It was chocolate icing.

And ear wax.

Somebody kill me now.

I wouldn't Eat the Boogers Out of a Dead Man's Nose...But....

Earlier tonight, I ate chocolate out of the ear of one of my youngest son.

It's true.

I didn't exactly mean to.

Well, I did....but I didn't.

We had been eating chocolate frosted brownies. And when we were done, and getting ready for bed, I noticed a smudge of what appeared to be chocolate icing in Baby Birdman's ear. So I scooped it out with my finger nail - wiped him off with a washcloth and was just about to wash my hands when I had a sudden query...

Was it chocolate? Remember the chocolate chip eggo incident?

Despite the infamous chocolate chip eggo incident from Lil Satchmo's newborn days, I still stuck my finger in my mouth to see what it was.

It was chocolate icing.

And ear wax.

Somebody kill me now.

Archetype Snuggling Memories - AKA Some Unrepentant Mommy Blogging

I'm sure that Jung never touched on this one, as in any of the crap I had to read about him he never covered snuggling whatsoever. But, I am positive that I experienced one. A Snuggling Archetype at work.
You see once upon a time, I had this little baby boy. He and I would get up, have a diaper and a bottle and then snuggle on the couch. I'd watch the Carolyn Rhea show, the Wayne Brady show and whatever else was on.
And in my arms, snuggled next to the back of the couch, he would doze, and eventually I would doze. I would smell the wonderful,soul filling smell of my baby nose and and the comforting feel of his weight against me. It's when I learned to sleep lightly, the slightest sound of him would rouse me.

He hasn't been that little baby in a long time.

But lately, on weekend mornings, we've taken to getting up first. And we creep into the living room and crawl under our Oasis blanket on the couch and talk,whisper and sometimes we'lll fall asleep. Usually I sleep with my back against the sofa-back, and my now big boy will sleep like a little spoon next to me.

The other day however, I needed to roll on to my back. He adjusted accordingly, but apparently I'm not such a light sleeper anymore. My first thought was that I was sleeping with my baby again. I was surrounded by the smell, the smell that ONLY this particular baby ever had and how I know in a room of 100 babies I could have found him instantly - even if blindfolded. Filling my nose, was this wonderful scent and it work me just a little, because it seemed to out of place.

Snuggled against me, in his old place, was my baby. Only he is now five, and stretches out over 4 feet long. His head was tucked under my chin, his arm on my chest. His mouth was slack and he was snoring in his most comfortable safe-spot. It made me cry a little. Happy tears and sad tears. The kind I can't even really explain.

When he woke up he giggled about sleeping on top of Mom. But he also said that it was a really comfy spot.

I have to agree.

Archetype Snuggling Memories - AKA Some Unrepentant Mommy Blogging

I'm sure that Jung never touched on this one, as in any of the crap I had to read about him he never covered snuggling whatsoever. But, I am positive that I experienced one. A Snuggling Archetype at work.
You see once upon a time, I had this little baby boy. He and I would get up, have a diaper and a bottle and then snuggle on the couch. I'd watch the Carolyn Rhea show, the Wayne Brady show and whatever else was on.
And in my arms, snuggled next to the back of the couch, he would doze, and eventually I would doze. I would smell the wonderful,soul filling smell of my baby nose and and the comforting feel of his weight against me. It's when I learned to sleep lightly, the slightest sound of him would rouse me.

He hasn't been that little baby in a long time.

But lately, on weekend mornings, we've taken to getting up first. And we creep into the living room and crawl under our Oasis blanket on the couch and talk,whisper and sometimes we'lll fall asleep. Usually I sleep with my back against the sofa-back, and my now big boy will sleep like a little spoon next to me.

The other day however, I needed to roll on to my back. He adjusted accordingly, but apparently I'm not such a light sleeper anymore. My first thought was that I was sleeping with my baby again. I was surrounded by the smell, the smell that ONLY this particular baby ever had and how I know in a room of 100 babies I could have found him instantly - even if blindfolded. Filling my nose, was this wonderful scent and it work me just a little, because it seemed to out of place.

Snuggled against me, in his old place, was my baby. Only he is now five, and stretches out over 4 feet long. His head was tucked under my chin, his arm on my chest. His mouth was slack and he was snoring in his most comfortable safe-spot. It made me cry a little. Happy tears and sad tears. The kind I can't even really explain.

When he woke up he giggled about sleeping on top of Mom. But he also said that it was a really comfy spot.

I have to agree.

I'm With Sarah On This One

I've actually been brewing this post for a while. But, I get lazy and just forget to do stuff.

But, I'm right with Sarah on this one.

Caillou is a total fucking brat. I'd like to spank him every day for a year.

He whines about everything. I've heard him say "I don't LIKE" this person or that person - without being corrected that this is rude. He makes incredible, thoughtless messes and his mother laughs like he's cute.

"Oh Caillou." Giggle giggle.

Because it's cute when children create havoc without consequences, without learning that there is a cause and affect to their actions. And they should be allowed to be rude to people without being corrected. This encourages positive social interactions, I'm sure.

Allegedly the monks used to say "Give us the child for the first seven years and we'll give you the man."

Seriously, can we send them Caillou? I bet they'd straighten his little ass out right quick.

Worst kid's show ever. Seriously.

I'm With Sarah On This One

I've actually been brewing this post for a while. But, I get lazy and just forget to do stuff.

But, I'm right with Sarah on this one.

Caillou is a total fucking brat. I'd like to spank him every day for a year.

He whines about everything. I've heard him say "I don't LIKE" this person or that person - without being corrected that this is rude. He makes incredible, thoughtless messes and his mother laughs like he's cute.

"Oh Caillou." Giggle giggle.

Because it's cute when children create havoc without consequences, without learning that there is a cause and affect to their actions. And they should be allowed to be rude to people without being corrected. This encourages positive social interactions, I'm sure.

Allegedly the monks used to say "Give us the child for the first seven years and we'll give you the man."

Seriously, can we send them Caillou? I bet they'd straighten his little ass out right quick.

Worst kid's show ever. Seriously.

Now I May Not Be a "Meteorologist" ...

but does this strike you as wrong?

And speaking of other random things. The husband sent me THIS. Seems that the Ministry of Adding Doors has been hard at work again! Let the proletariat REJOICE!

Now I May Not Be a "Meteorologist" ...

but does this strike you as wrong?

And speaking of other random things. The husband sent me THIS. Seems that the Ministry of Adding Doors has been hard at work again! Let the proletariat REJOICE!

367 Days Ago

My life went onto a semi.



And he had to leave behind his.
And I had to leave behind mine.

And we came to this place.


I don't know what to think about it yet. I can't say I like it or hate it. I suppose some of both. (Oh I HATE the apartment, don't let me mince words about that. Freaking gang ridden ghetto is what it IS. HATE the apartment. I'm talking about Georgia in General.)

I tell you what I like most, though.

I like that when I roll over at night, there are familiar arms that hold me and familiar feet to touch. That the person making my dinner always takes extra care not to put things in it that I don't like, because he loves me. I like the way he smells, even when he stinks.

I like it that no matter whether we stay here or there is another semi in the future, the humans in my life are here as they should be. And, according to the husband's most recent visit to the surgeon - they are going to be.

All his biopsies came back clear, and we'll do another CT scan in a short while to check up on what is going on with the lymph nodes.

I'd rejoice, but I think I'm too emotionally drained from the entire experience to even do that.

But I wanted to take a moment, to put down in words, how important he is to this family. He's the Mom and the Dad in many ways. We've been through a lot of things, and everything we go through only makes me realize how much he means to me. I was living in a silent terror of the unspeakable, that they were going to say "gee we're sorry but you're fucked." And they didn't say that.
I guess, at that point I just didn't know what to even say.

But God I'm Glad.

367 Days Ago

My life went onto a semi.



And he had to leave behind his.
And I had to leave behind mine.

And we came to this place.


I don't know what to think about it yet. I can't say I like it or hate it. I suppose some of both. (Oh I HATE the apartment, don't let me mince words about that. Freaking gang ridden ghetto is what it IS. HATE the apartment. I'm talking about Georgia in General.)

I tell you what I like most, though.

I like that when I roll over at night, there are familiar arms that hold me and familiar feet to touch. That the person making my dinner always takes extra care not to put things in it that I don't like, because he loves me. I like the way he smells, even when he stinks.

I like it that no matter whether we stay here or there is another semi in the future, the humans in my life are here as they should be. And, according to the husband's most recent visit to the surgeon - they are going to be.

All his biopsies came back clear, and we'll do another CT scan in a short while to check up on what is going on with the lymph nodes.

I'd rejoice, but I think I'm too emotionally drained from the entire experience to even do that.

But I wanted to take a moment, to put down in words, how important he is to this family. He's the Mom and the Dad in many ways. We've been through a lot of things, and everything we go through only makes me realize how much he means to me. I was living in a silent terror of the unspeakable, that they were going to say "gee we're sorry but you're fucked." And they didn't say that.
I guess, at that point I just didn't know what to even say.

But God I'm Glad.

Sea Monkeys and Red Tailed Hawk for Dinner

It's no secret that we're in a financial bind. (Click on the blogher ads dammit!). I'm not proud or should I say TOO proud to admit that we're in a crunch plus we need to move soon to get out of the ghetto we live in. Ghetto might be a loose term, but I will tell you that we've decided to quit asking one person to stop parking in our spot as he is a CRIP.

But like Malachy in Angela's Ashes, we do have a CERTAIN level to which we will not stoop. I like to think we're not as STUPID as him about it (yeah I'd pick up coal off the road if it meant the difference between my children been warm or cold) and you know, we're not paupers.

We're close.

But not there YET.

Anyway, it's sort of strange how your kids pick up on your status, and how they will convey it to others. I'm accustomed to Lil Satchmo prefacing everything he wants to ask us to buy with "When we have more money, can we get X Y Z..." which makes me a little sad but, at least he sort of understands that he can't HAVE everything in the world.

So, I hadn't really picked up on his meaning behind some conversations he's been having with his grandma. First off, there was the Sea Monkey conversation. He informed his grandmother a while back, that we were going to eat his Sea Monkeys - with some paprika no less. I thought this was a strange story, but something he'd make up as a fancy.

Now today, as I'm sitting out on my balcony watching the rain mist over the forest and the kids were running about playing, a big red tailed hawk swooped past us and over into the forest. The big boy tells me if it comes near the porch, we should catch it and he'll kill it! I let him know that this is completely wrong - this is a beautiful animal, we wouldn't kill a red tailed hawk nor should we play like that.

Shortly after, while on the phone with Grandma, I learn that he isn't playing. He's planning our survival.

You see, he tells his grandma, he's going to catch this red tailed hawk and kill it so we can eat it. We need to do stuff like this, he tells her, because we are broke.

Well. He has a point.

My heart divided. I was heartbroken on one side, because how SAD that he really thinks we are so poor that we are forced to kill wild game to survive. (I promise you this shiny box would get sold before we were at THAT place). But the other side of my heart was so proud that I nearly wept.

He would hunt and kill to feed is family. His sense of survival and commitment to his family is seriously intact and strong.

Days like this, I feel like we have done something right.

Sea Monkeys and Red Tailed Hawk for Dinner

It's no secret that we're in a financial bind. (Click on the blogher ads dammit!). I'm not proud or should I say TOO proud to admit that we're in a crunch plus we need to move soon to get out of the ghetto we live in. Ghetto might be a loose term, but I will tell you that we've decided to quit asking one person to stop parking in our spot as he is a CRIP.

But like Malachy in Angela's Ashes, we do have a CERTAIN level to which we will not stoop. I like to think we're not as STUPID as him about it (yeah I'd pick up coal off the road if it meant the difference between my children been warm or cold) and you know, we're not paupers.

We're close.

But not there YET.

Anyway, it's sort of strange how your kids pick up on your status, and how they will convey it to others. I'm accustomed to Lil Satchmo prefacing everything he wants to ask us to buy with "When we have more money, can we get X Y Z..." which makes me a little sad but, at least he sort of understands that he can't HAVE everything in the world.

So, I hadn't really picked up on his meaning behind some conversations he's been having with his grandma. First off, there was the Sea Monkey conversation. He informed his grandmother a while back, that we were going to eat his Sea Monkeys - with some paprika no less. I thought this was a strange story, but something he'd make up as a fancy.

Now today, as I'm sitting out on my balcony watching the rain mist over the forest and the kids were running about playing, a big red tailed hawk swooped past us and over into the forest. The big boy tells me if it comes near the porch, we should catch it and he'll kill it! I let him know that this is completely wrong - this is a beautiful animal, we wouldn't kill a red tailed hawk nor should we play like that.

Shortly after, while on the phone with Grandma, I learn that he isn't playing. He's planning our survival.

You see, he tells his grandma, he's going to catch this red tailed hawk and kill it so we can eat it. We need to do stuff like this, he tells her, because we are broke.

Well. He has a point.

My heart divided. I was heartbroken on one side, because how SAD that he really thinks we are so poor that we are forced to kill wild game to survive. (I promise you this shiny box would get sold before we were at THAT place). But the other side of my heart was so proud that I nearly wept.

He would hunt and kill to feed is family. His sense of survival and commitment to his family is seriously intact and strong.

Days like this, I feel like we have done something right.

Showing Our Age

I was on the phone with Leslie the other night, and she was telling me how she won this MP3 player at work. Excitedly she shared with me some of the cool stuff that it does, fancy accoutrement etc.
I told her how I had gotten one from Props and Pans to review - and that I thought it was a fairly nifty device as well.
And then I confessed it.

I'm not exactly sure what to DO with it.

And then she confessed it.

She's not exactly sure what to DO with it.

Don't get us wrong. We KNOW it's function. We COMPREHEND HOW TO MAKE IT WORK.

But, now what? Neither of us have huge commutes to work requiring volumes of music to be at our disposal. We don't jog or walk or otherwise work out. You can't really wear them at work. It would be RUDE to wear them in the presence of others.

Soooooo......now what?

I can't imagine a practical application of this device. I enjoy purchasing CDs. Many CDs are meant to be listened to all together - not in snippets.

Are we this old, or is this device really just trendy and we're fine?

Showing Our Age

I was on the phone with Leslie the other night, and she was telling me how she won this MP3 player at work. Excitedly she shared with me some of the cool stuff that it does, fancy accoutrement etc.
I told her how I had gotten one from Props and Pans to review - and that I thought it was a fairly nifty device as well.
And then I confessed it.

I'm not exactly sure what to DO with it.

And then she confessed it.

She's not exactly sure what to DO with it.

Don't get us wrong. We KNOW it's function. We COMPREHEND HOW TO MAKE IT WORK.

But, now what? Neither of us have huge commutes to work requiring volumes of music to be at our disposal. We don't jog or walk or otherwise work out. You can't really wear them at work. It would be RUDE to wear them in the presence of others.

Soooooo......now what?

I can't imagine a practical application of this device. I enjoy purchasing CDs. Many CDs are meant to be listened to all together - not in snippets.

Are we this old, or is this device really just trendy and we're fine?