Oh, The Places We'll Go

On the road again
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world be turnin' our way
And our way
Is on the road again
Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again





Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

The Oak

When I first came home after evacuating from Hurricane Katrina, and then two years later after Hurricane Gustav, the one thing you noticed, and with sadness, were the massive tree trunks of uprooted oak trees. Trees that withstood the test of time for over a century felled by nature's most powerful storms. Gone, because instead of bending in the winds of adversity, they stood and fought. Some of them, still standing to this day, won, while others fell, rather than give in to the demands of the violence brought in by the storms. Gone, forever, but by those who basked in their glory, embraced in their arms, coddled from the storm, are remembered always.

In light of all the award giving and receiving that has been going around my blog community over the past week, a new one has found its way to me, and I must say, I am truly honored to have received this one. Ms. Tink at The Tink-n-Frog has awarded me with the Renee Award. Here is a short description of the meaning behind the award:

This Award was created by Bella and Ces in honour of their friend Renee, an incredible lady who in the face of a frightening life battle is tackling each day with great spirit and courage.
Here is what Bella says of this award: “this is a brand new award and I have the pleasure and honor of spreading the seed, watching it grow. I hope it finds it’s way to those who are like Renee: the acorn, becoming a tall and sturdy oak, giving acorns…”

Thank you so much, Ms. Tink. I am truly honored.

In turn, I would like to pass this award on to someone I believe has truly earned it, my beautiful and talented daughter, Miss. Persephone at This Tasty Jam is All Me. She's smart, beautiful, talented, and wise beyond her age. An old soul, a young mind, a wiser person I could never hope to be. She is as solid as the oak that sprang forth from one small acorn.

Nerd Rage?

Space...The Final Frontier
These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise.
It's five year mission:
to explore new worlds
to seek out new life and new civilization
to BOLDLY GO WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE!

::queue weird sci fi music::

I totally LOVED Star Trek. Not only that, I wanted to grow up and marry Mr. Spock (who cared that he was secretly in love with James Tiberius Kirk (yes, I know Captain Kirk's middle name)). And truly, come on guys, we all know that Bones and Mr. Spock, although constantly at each other's neck, would take a bullet for the other.

I was a Johnny Come Lately to the Star Trek scene. The first Star Trek I saw was the fifth movie, The Final Frontier. My friends convinced me that it would be okay, I might even enjoy it, and we'd get to eat movie popcorn to boot. Hmphf, so I went. And loved it. More than loved it. I was completely, totally, and utterly convinced that Star Trek was the best thing that ever happened to me. So, after watching the movie at least six times at the theater, even skipping out of the new Batman movie that everyone was watching and sneaking into ST5:TFF to watch it again, I knew I needed more. Thus began my trek into my own final frontier.

After searching forever and a day, I was able to find the series on the television. My favorite one? The Way to Eden. I was impossible to live with after watching that one. Seriously, if I sang "Headin out to Eden, Yea Brother," one more time, or cupped my hands together and said "one" to another person, I would have been shot. Still, that wasn't enough! I had to read as many Star Trek novels that I could lay my hands on. People actually wrote novels about this stuff. Like new episodes, new adventures, what happened afterwards. Did you know that Mr. Spock actually has a son with Zarabeth? YES, HE DID!

But I digress.

My mother listens to some entertainment tonight type show during/after/whatever dinner. It's usually background noise to me unless some tidbit captures my attention, you know, like: William Shatner is ticked off about being excluded from the new Star Trek movie. Leonard Nimoy is going to be on it, why can't I kind of stuff. No, that didn't start me raging, as my husband who didn't allow me to explain what I wanted to say said I was doing. Yes, he actually said I had nerd rage! The Nerve! Anyway, what started my "nerdrage" (I wasn't nerdraging, by the way, my husband just thought I was nerdraging) was the fact that the new movie shows Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk in their early heyday. Kirk is young and Mr. Spock is young. Wait, Mr. Spock is young? NO HE ISN"T. Mr. Spock is Vulcan. He's not young, and even though he is half human, he doesn't show age like real humans do. How can they put a Spock up there that shows the appearance of being the same age as Captain Kirk? HUH? How?


Get with the program, boys.

I dunno, maybe after watching, and grudgingly watching it I might add, I will know more about the whole young Spock, old Spock thing they are going for.


Hmphf.

Tell A Joke Tuesday

It's time for Tell A Joke Tuesday, brought to you by Wayne, from Wayne's Window to the World.

1. What's long and green and hangs from trees?


Giraffe snot


2. Why is Cinderella no good at soccer?



She's always running away from the ball.



3. Why is number six afraid of number seven?


Because seven eight nine and ten.



and finally, (does that make you happy?)


4. Whats red and green and goes 55 miles an hour?



A frog in a blender.




Ta Da!!!


(bows)


Thank you, Thank you.


::disclaimer:: Jokes provided by random fifth graders

Honest S Crap

Hello, want to check out my back. Just the shirt I'm wearing, though, don't look at my butt, it's a deadly weapon. A moving violation. A crime to humanity. Stop! Okay, anyway, look at my back and see if anyone painted a bulls eye on it because I've been TAGGED again. What, a sur prise a par ta. (Bill Murray style). Ms. Kel, at A Girl In Glasses, decided to awarded me with

THE HONEST SCRAP AWARD.


So, she said I'd have to take a picture of myself, wearing only my underwear, and sitting on a unicorn. Since I've had five children, and their ain't no unicorn within a million miles that will buy my story of "Second Time Around Virginity," I will have to abide by the "other" rules.

The rules are simple: State ten things about yourself (can't I just cut and paste the last tag?). Post em in a blog...(der). Then tag a new victim...er...person. (I should re tag Kel. Oooo...maybe that is what I will do)(But then, I know her, she will re tag me and it will turn into a vicious cycle and then there will be NOTHING SACRED ABOUT THIS BLOG ANYMORE) Kidding, Kel). That would have been fun, though. But I"m just not talented enough to be in a blog war. I have also graciously decided not to re tag those I have tagged before (BECAUSE 13 FACTS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH TO COME UP WITH) (I really love Kel's blog).

So, without further ado, I dub Ms. Anita the winner of the Honest Scrap Award. Tag, chicky, you're it.

Oh, Damn. I forgot. I have to write ten things about myself that you don't know. Again.

1. I am the oldest child of my mom's second marriage, but that actually makes me the middle child of both of her marriages (talk about scar tissue). She had eight.

2. I swore I would never have children. Ever. I have five.

3. I don't like babies. They are boring. I just put up with them until they get pass the age of 5 months or so, then I start to like them again. They probably don't like me either, but hey, that's OK.

4. Until I met my husband, my longest relationship lasted about five months. And before you blame it on "the man," I'll admit, the majority of them ended because of me, and the talent I had of finding something that just couldn't be overcome. Seriously. I broke up with one guy because as I was driving my beat up car down the road, I saw a Saab, my then dream car, pass me by, and I thought to myself, "I'll never be able to get one of those if I stay with this guy...ever." That was the end of that.

5. I was 33 when I met my husband, and was paranoid that it wouldn't last because I really, really liked him. Alot. Obviously. We're still married. Phew.

6. When I was little, and young, I wanted to grow up and become an astronaut. That was until I watched a movie that showed the training they went though. They had to take laxatives, wait til it took effect, and then run this bizarre obstacle course in order to reach the bathroom. It was crazy. I knew right then and there that I would never...ever...be able to hold it for that long (There, Ms. Savant, my own little poop story).

7. I still dream of owning my own little coffee shop/used bookstore. Although I hate coffee, the smell of used books with coffee drifting in the background is my favorite smell in the world.

8. I always start projects, and other things like getting a degree, etc, and never finish them. I envy those who can create, and finish. Seriously, I have a quilt that I've been working on for months and months and months, but I no longer have the interest in finishing it. When I started college, I was really scared that I wouldn't make it to graduation. I think my girls kept me from dropping out. Thanks, kids.

(I should use the excuse in number 8 to stop writing this, huh)

9. I played with barbies until I was....er....old. I loved her clothes. Never, in a million years, could I even come close to looking that good in her clothes. Seriously.

10. I am afraid of the dark. If I have to cross a room before switching the light on, it totally freaks me out. I have to slide my hand against the wall and switch the light on before I can step into a room. I'm also afraid of looking into a mirror in a dark room. SCARY!

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Well, it has happened. I never thought this day would come, but it has, and now, I just don't know what I will do.

La Tinknfrog has tagged me. I am covered, head to toe, with red and green spray paint (kind of like a frog in a blender). She has tagged me asking to reveal thirteen things that you may not know about me. Well, considering that I don't really reveal all that much about me here, I should have alot of material. But it seems that the paint fumes from the tagging has caused a bit of brain damage...So...I will try my best...and hope that my best is good enough.

1. Eggs. Eggs in a carton must be evenly dispersed. I can never take out just one egg, and when I take them out, I take one from each end of the carton so the carton will be even. If I notice that people have been taking them from one side, I will fix the carton so that the eggs are once again..even.

2. I was a carny. I was a carny for about 5 years give or take. Two of the years I was a carny, it was full time. I had some of the best times of my life on the road, some of the worse, and some of the most painful. Don't regret it. And yes, I did take a bath on daily basis.

3. I eat ketchup on just about everything. Rice, Eggs, Icecream, potato chips, straight from the bottle. I'm not a big fry person, but I will order fries just so I can eat some ketchup.

4. I hate driving over bridges, bridges of just about any type. However, bridges with some type of covering or a train rail next to them really freak me out. When I am driving over a bridge, the radio has to come off, no one can talk, and the windows must be rolled up. No kidding.

5. I believe in ghosts. I think they exist for real, not for fake. I believe in demons, too, but I think ghosts and demons are different from each other.

6. I've had experiences with both of the above.

7. Stealing this one from Tink...I believe in fairies, dragons, magic, love, change, and damsels in distress. I think if I were a vampire, I would be sad that all of this has just about disappeared in these modern times of technology.

8. Smells affect my mood.

9. My favorite smell is my husband, dirty or clean. It is comforting. When he worked offshore and was gone for two to three weeks at a time. I'd sneak one or two of his shirts so that I could keep his smell with me for the sad nights.

10. Even though I teach children who are disabled, I don't think I am strong enough to handle having a child of my own who is disabled. It scares me, the responsibility, the, the trials and tribulations. I know I would love that child, but my patience is so limited, I hope I'd be up for the challenge.

11. My husband and I met while playing an online game called, Everquest. We met because his friend was friends with my sister, they formed a group, and were short a healer. That's where I came in. I healed their group, and became the primary healer for further expeditions. Somehow, I convinced him to give me his number (he was chicken) and we discovered that we liked talking to each other just as much as playing the game. We met, and it worked.

12. I honestly believed chemo had left me barren, this was also backed up by doctors, lawyers and such...and cowboys. Then BAM We had a girl, 11 months later, a boy, a year later, a boy. Hrm...

13. People think I"m super independent, that I don't need to be socially accepted, that I'm easy come easy go, rebel without a clause kind of person...and sometimes I am, but really, I hurt...bleed...and need just like the rest.

So, now that I'm done, I shall go forth and tag three others like I have been tagged. Hopefully they will taggy because I'd love reading what they have to say.

Tagged: A Girl With A Thought
Pirate Chicky
Housewife Savant
Pam's Perspective
Jillian, The Infamous
and
Laala

Have fun if you decide to, have fun reading them if you don't decide to, and I have a headache.

You Get a Line and I'll Get a Pole

You get a line and I'll get a pole, honey. You get a line and I"ll get a pole, babe. You get a line and I'll get a pole, we'll go fishin down at the crawdad hole. Honey...baby...mine.


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Let's Talk About Breasts

Long, short, round, squashed, flat, poofy, bouncy, saggy, busting out the seams, torpedowee, young, old, wrinkled, firm, milkful, empty, breasts, boobs, milk cartons, jugs, hooters, dirty little pillows...name it what you will, but its all the same. We all have them, young and old, short and tall, fat and thin. I love mine, even though I can just about tuck them into my...ah, nevermind, TMI. But I'm not going to talk about breasts. No, I'm going to talk about something way more important.

Way back a long time ago, I battled cancer and won. I briefly mentioned bits and pieces of this war in various posts. Yes, this is a cancer post, but it's not going to talk about puking and hair loss. I promise, I will get to the puke some other post, this post is more important. When I first began chemo, I was a very angry cancer patient. I was totally pissed off at breast cancer patients. You see, I had Leukemia. It was in my bone marrow all over my body, and those "breast" people just had it in one little ole place. Not only was it in just one little ole place, but they could get it cut out...they could get it removed...they could have radiation, take aim and burn the sucker out even. Not only that, they even had their own "Breast Cancer Awareness" month. Their OWN month. And if none of the above mentioned worked, they could get the thing cut off. I couldn't. No, it just ebbed and flowed throughout my blood system, doing its thing. What was their problem? They had it easy.

Boy.

Was I dumb.

Was I ever stupid.

There can never be enough awareness. There can never be enough funding. There can never be enough education. There can never be enough searching for the cure. Breast Cancer is a killer. It is a vicious killer. It is a painful killer. And there is no easy cure. There is no guarantee. And the cure isn't always permanent. And throughout my time being treated for my own cancer, I learned this. And I, the angry breast cancer envious cancer patient, was humbled.

In Fact:

Not counting some kinds of skin cancer, breast cancer in the United States is

The most common cancer in women, no matter your race or ethnicity.
The most common cause of death from cancer among Hispanic women.
The second most common cause of death from cancer among white, black, Asian/Pacific Islander, and American Indian/Alaska Native women. 1
In 2005 (the most recent year numbers are available):

186,467 women and 1,764 men developed breast cancer.
41,116 women and 375 men died from breast cancer

Furthermore:

Risk factors that increase risk of breast cancer include

Getting older.
Being younger when you first had your menstrual period.
Starting menopause at a later age.
Being older at the birth of your first child.
Never giving birth.
Not breastfeeding.
Personal history of breast cancer or some non-cancerous breast diseases.
Family history of breast cancer (mother, sister, daughter).
Treatment with radiation therapy to the breast/chest.
Being overweight (increases risk for breast cancer after menopause).
Long-term use of hormone replacement therapy (estrogen and progesterone combined).
Having changes in the breast cancer-related genes BRCA1 or BRCA2.
Using birth control pills, also called oral contraceptives.
Drinking alcohol (more than one drink a day).
Not getting regular exercise.

These facts can be found at http://www.cdc.gov/cancer/breast/

Now that you've finished listening to me, there is someone else I'd like for you to visit. Many of you probably already know her. She's pretty famous, and for you SiTS gals, she's a Welcomista. Breast cancer has touched her life, as I'm sure it has touched many of you. We all know someone: friend, family member, co-worker, that has fought breast cancer. She is fighting back. Please, take the time to go to Chicken Nuggets of Wisdom and hear what DiPaola Momma has to say. It's worth the time it takes to click the link here, or click the title of my post, an active link to her post. Read what she has to say. It's well worth it.

Once Bitten

I imagine it all began about four years ago when one of my students literally got on her knees and begged me, with all of her little ten year old heart, to read this book. So I did. And I'll admit, it was quite a good young adult novel. A little beyond the fifth grader's years, even though she was rather mature for her age, but book suppression I don't believe in...let the parents take an active part in their child's reading list.

By the way, many of you have heard of this book. It's called Twilight.

Uh huh, yes, you heard right. Twilight.

I read it, added it to my classroom library, suggested it to my then seventh grade daughter, and promptly forgot about it. When the next book came out, I didn't bother getting it due to having forgotten the majority of the story. While I read most of the books that went into my classroom library, dragons, magic, sailing away to other worlds were the words that tugged at my heart and bookshelf more so than the popular reading list. Okay, I admit it. I was Lestat's biggest fan, but I gave up on vampires years, even decades ago. Sorry, Lestat, but you ain't got nothin on Aragorn, and don't even try to compare yourself to Fizban. No way, it just ain't gonna happen.

Yeah. Right.

Enter HBO. I'm telling you, right here, right now, HBO knows how to do a series and how to do it right. Deadwood, Big Love, Rome, just to name a few, held me, not the biggest fan of television, riveted to the screen. So it wasn't a big surprise that when last season's, not this season's, run of Big Love reached its finale, we scanned the list of "On Demand" series.

Can we say True Blood? Can we say Bill Compton? Can we say an aussie putting on that sweet southern drawl so that every time he said "Sookie" some over the age of 18 female swooned and melted just a little? Listen to him say it..."Sookie." ::aside:: When he says sookie, it sounds a bit like Elvis saying Soo kay. Hmmm. Needless to say, Bill Compton and Eric the Vampire compelled me to touch the surface of the vampires of the millennium. And when the girls wanted to go to the midnight viewing of the movie, "Twilight," I was only too happy to oblige. Seriously, I know the sap poured into the making of the movie. And I know the rush to fame that Mr. Rob whatshisname is experiencing due to this goo fest of a movie. But hell if I didn't leave the movie theatre feeling all giddy in love can't wait to get back home and snuggle with husband who stayed home. Damn Straight!

I got to thinking, yes, I do think on occasion. It wasn't the whole vampire spiel that pulled me in, it was the way it left you remembering what fresh, not necessarily young...I was already in my thirties when I met my husband, love felt like. Seriously, there is nothing like fresh love. So I went home, scooted next to my sleeping husband (don't think his butt woke up at nearly 3:00 a.m.), and reveled in the "fresh" love feeling. And yes, when the movie was released on DVD, I bought it for my movie obsessed daughter. We watched it at midnight. And once again, I was left with that fresh love feeling. And once again, after the movie, I went to snuggle with my fresh love hottie (and yes, he slept through the entire fresh love episode). It was great, though. What a movie. Not the best of movies, but I was totally digging the love.

So now, after four years and counting, I am finally reading books two through four. I've also picked up the Sookie Stackhouse series (Vampire Bill says, "Sookie."). Quick easy reads. Definitely not going to add them to my fifth grade reading library. I'll leave that decision up to the parents.

Sookie.

Kick It

Four years and counting


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

And It Makes You Wonder

Before I get started, may I have your attention, please. Wayne, from Wayne's Window to the World, is posting his boy meets girl story of how he met his Beautiful Jenn. I've been dying to read it (we're talking life support here), and finally, he is writing it! Go Wayne!

::aside:: note the beautifully working hyper link that was so cleverly added to my post.

Ever wonder if birds have it wrong or do they just have it right. They throw their children out of the nest, and then teach them to fly. "Fly baby, fly! Oh damn, cat." They they are off to try again.


Ever wonder why your Internet connection runs so slow even though you've got a strong connection and a super speedy hard drive? I mean, this thing is supposta be like Michael Phelps on steroids. Come on now, already.

Ever wonder why English is so damn hard to learn? I mean think about it. The rule for making a word plural is to add "s" to words ending with a constant and add "es" or "s" to words ending in vowels, but then there are some words that you just wouldn't add anything to, keep it like it is, and then some words you change the spelling in order to make it plural, and SO ON. How do we expect to learn all of this crap? Huh? You tell me.

Did you know that spam would have went out of business if it hadn't of been for WW II? Yep, it sure would have. Due to its nonperishablility, Spam was a popular food item to put into the soldiers MREs. When our boys returned home, they missed the taste of spam so much, they brought it to the dinner table. Sales rose, the company stayed in business, and viola', Spam is on our market shelves as we speak.

Hawaii is one of the largest consumers of Spam. Go MEAT!

Ever wonder why people think they have to go so FREAKIN fast in a 25 mile zone? It drives me nuts.

Ever wonder why blue is called blue? I mean, who came up with that? Why call blue blue and not call it red? Don't say because red is red, because red wasn't red before someone said it was red. And if blue was called red, would that make something that is red (blue) feel cold? Or would it feel hot? And would something blue (red) feel hot? Would it make you feel all dangerous to be dressed in blue? Hmmm. And why I'm on it, who started calling grass, grass? And why?

Just randomness roaming around in my head. I've got to run now, we're taking a road trip to the French Quarter and my kids are bugging me to get ready. (There's a train a comin...don't need no ticket you just get on board)

Roger Wilco, over and out.

Tell A Joke Tuesday

Tell A Joke Tuesday is brought to you by Wayne from Wayne's Window to the World. The post title is an active link to his website. Enjoy!

How Soon Is Now?

The only sex talk I received came from a cousin-in-law, yes, someone not even related by blood, when I was about the age of eleven. At least I think I was eleven, I'm not sure. Subject matter rolled around girls getting periods, and choosing between tampons or pads. No mention of "hey, you can get pregnant now" or "women have a vagina and men have penises" (hey, just what is the plural of penis? Is it penises or peni?). Thinking back, I believe the closest I came to the sex talk happened when I was riding the merry-go-round and I shot the middle finger at Tony Leco. I got a spanking and was told that showing someone the middle finger was the same as wanting to touch someone's privates and I had better NEVER do that again.

Obviously, five children later, I have learned quite a bit about sex. As my daughters grew up, I knew I was going to be much more modern and cooler than my mom. I was going to be as upfront and open with them as the law allowed. And as I inwardly ranted, raved, and uproared the first time I caught my four year old exploring, outwardly, I calmly explained to her that it was okay to touch and figure out things with your body, but you need to do it in private. Yes, inwardly I cringed, but there was no way I was going to mentally scar my child from being a sexually, self confident woman when she grew up. You'd think that this would have been an easy thing for me to do, but growing up in a family that tarred and feathered children who were caught "exploring," made it more difficult than the simple textbook solution. Seriously, we were spanked, told that it was a sin, and if we did it again we were going to get a bigger spankin. So, telling my children that it was okay, and a natural thing to do, was a big personal battle won. Go me. I was a modern mom.

As my daughters evolved, talking about sex was initiated by them. They came to me, we talked. We covered subjects ranging from STDs, staying safe, making out, erections, oral sex, what the first time felt like, emotional connections, knowing when, and a slew of other things. I was really proud at the information I provided to my girls. Then my seventeen year old took me down a peg. She walks up to me and says,

"Hey mom, how come you never had the sex talk with me?"

Flabbergasted, I replied, "Huh? I've been talking about sex with you since the fifth grade!"

"Yes," returned seventeen year old, "but you never actually told me how."

"How? What do you mean, how." I said clearly puzzled.

"You know, what parts go where and how to use them."

Oh.

OH.

OOOOoooHhhhhh.

"You mean...that talk,"

Clearly, I had missed something. Yes, I provided them with information, tolerance, and acceptance, but I missed something. Something big...something important. Something I took for granted. What parts go where and how to use them. So I found myself stumbling around words like penis and clitoris and orgasm (she already knew what that was...whew). We talked about hows and whys and whens (again, she thinks she's in love but they both want to wait...whew). EYE talked about knowing your body and what feels right for yourself. That it was important to know your limits, and that when you were ready to take step, only take that step if you are 100% sure.

It was a conversation that was just a bit out of my comfort zone, which is an odd place for me to be, especially concerning my girls. I was a single mom for the first 11 years of their lives. We fought cancer together, battled living with grandma together, found a new dad together. As cornball and lifetime movie network as it sounds, our battles and experiences drew us closer together than a normal mother-daughter relationship. So to feel weird while having an intimate conversation was a whole new ball park. Nevertheless, I am still kicking myself for leaving out a butt load of information. Important information that often leads one to go out and discover by experience if not provided.

So my question is, now that I have a new brood up and coming, how soon is now? I strongly feel that information provides the best defense. And I truly believe that informing is not the same as giving permission to go out and sleep with everything that walks by. Not only that, I have sons, and they are an entirely different kind of beast (no pun intended). What do you tell them? How do you open up that line of conversation? My oldest son is only two, so this gives me about two more years to get ready (Kidding!).

I'm still laughing at myself. How could I have missed that? Which parts go where and how do you use them.

Hmphf, this modern mom has been knocked flat on her modern ass.

What Easter Bunny?

I'm innocent, I tell you. The Easter Bunny didn't even pass this way! ::Burp::
Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Link illiterate

Yes, I am link illiterate. I can't get the suckers to work. So, pardon any inconvenience while I experiment.

On Sunday nights, my husband and I love listening to Hearts of Space. You can subscribe to their archives for a low monthly fee, or you can hope you remember about the program in time, and catch it free on Sundays. Find Hearts of Space here!

My very talented daughter is an actress, artist and writer. She can't spell to save her life, but her writing makes for an interesting read, at least I think so. You can find her scribblings, when she scribbles that is, here!

Wayne's Window to the World hosts Tell A Joke Tuesdays almost religiously, each, yes, you got it, Tuesday. However, as cornball as the jokes I tell are, it isn't his jokes that keep me coming back. It's the love story he is living with his lady love, Jenn. Those two keep me coming back for more. I wish he'd blog about how they met. You see, he lives in England, and she lives in the US of A. Hmmm. I found Wayne's blog via Jillian, one of my very first followers. She is hysterically funny. If my links work, check em out!

There are some times I think the blogging world is very much like high school. We blog our finest, set goals to reach for, wedge our way into circles, and hope the popular girls notice us. Jeez, I hope this doesn't turn me into the bumbling, dopey chic that will totally prostrate herself at the feet of the SiTS girls just to gain a tidbit of social acceptance! Nah, they don't roll that way. Actually, the majority of my reading list comes from there. I've found some awesome blogs like this chicky, this one, and a whole lot more. It amazes me how those that really appeal to me, like Ms. Savant, who advises against trying to gird a turd (and I totally agree), and Ms. Pam,the librarian with red pumps, write so differently from not only myself, but each other as well. But I stalk...er...haunt...er...visit..yes, visit them regularly, and enjoy reading their posts almost as much as my own.

In keeping with today's randomness in order to help me unilliterate (is that a word?) my link deficit, my middle daughter is in love with Johnny Depp. His last name makes me think of hair products and pirates. Speaking of pirates, this pirate chicky here needs to join The Bilge Pumps and get her pirate on!

Very random story by Ronnica.
Anyway, thanks to you all for putting up with my experiment.

Live long and prosper.

Tell A Joke Tuesday

Tell A Joke Tuesday is sponsored by Wayne's Window to the World (he makes me want to song the theme song to "Wayne's World" everytime I visit his blog). He's feeling kind of down this Tuesday due to him having to return to England and leaving his beautiful Jenn here in the US of A. Anyway, in keeping with my cornball sense of humor, here is my addition to Wayne's World ...er...window. You can click on the post title when your done and visit Wayne. Have fun.

Part Two: Boudreaux and Thibodeaux (if you need to know how to pronounce these names, see my first installment of the Boudreaux and Thibodeaux jokes).

Boudreaux and Thibodeaux were out sittin on da front porch at Thibodeaux's house jes enjoyin da sun goin down in da bayou. Boudreaux sit up and say to Thibodeaux..

"Meh, is dat Clarence ova dair across the bayou makin dem faces at me?"

"Meh, Boudreaux," say Thibodeaux, "Ah shure tink it is Clarence. He done shot you da bird, too."

Boudreaux slapped his knee and he say, "Dats it. I'm goin ova dair and teach dat Clarence a lesson." So Boudreaux got up from off da porch and ran to da bridge to across da bayou to Clarences house.

Thibodeaux jes waited on da porch watchin fo Boudreaux to come back when he was done.
Well...not even ten seconds pass when Boudreaux come runnin back all outta breath.

"Meh, Boudreaux, you back already?"

"Aww, Meh Thibodeaux, I didn even go. When I got to the bridge dair was a sign warnin people away from Clarence..."

"It said: Warning: Clearance 7 Feet.



The End.

Thank you, Thank you.

(bows)

April is Autism Awareness Month

I want you to think of your family, friends, work associates, church mates, neighbors, even the daycare that your children may attend. Many of you personally know someone, close to you or just an acquaintance, who is battling autism. As a teacher, I have taught children with dealing with various spectrums of autism, I have two good friends that have autistic children, and in my family, a cousin recently diagnosed. Autism is one of the fastest growing developmental disorders in the world.


Facts about Autism:

· Autism affects as many as 1 in 150 children
· Autism is the fastest-growing serious developmental disability in the world
· More children will be diagnosed with autism this year than with diabetes, cancer, & AIDS combined
· Boys are four times more likely than girls to have autism
· There is no medical detection or cure for autism, but early diagnosis and intervention improve outcomes
· Autism does not discriminate by geography, class, or ethnicity

www.worldautismawarenessday.org


Crazy Mamma at www.craybickford.blogspot.com is doing weekly posts on autism. I've added an autism awareness button to the left of my post, take a look, that links directly to her blog. You can also click on the title of this post, and hopefully, the link I've added in the post (if it is working, which is probably doesn't). She can probably provide more accurate information concerning autism.

Do You Kiss Your Momma With That Mouth?

Last minute grocery shopping seems to be a hobby of mine. It never fails that when it comes time to planning, arranging, chopping, and dicing supper, I need some key ingredient. Friday's meal was no different, so off to the grocers I went.

I think Friday's theme for me was casual. I was casually dressed in Capri style jeans and a short-sleeved, black turtle neck. My hair was casually held in a black pony tail. The vehicle I drove to the grocer's was an adorable, but casually styled black Amigo, and my money was stuffed into my pocket as I casually strode across the parking lot headed towards the door that led into the grocers. Yes, and the young man at the estimated age of 17-18 years just casually, with a smile on his face, gave me the finger.

Oh no he didn'!

Oh yes, he did.

And it wasn't a quick flash of that middle finger. It was a long, drawn-out, swiped across the air like a grand gesture middle finger. No, it wasn't the digging in your nose accidental flip off. He was really flipping me off. AND grinning while he did it. Well, let me tell you...he picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue. Although Friday's theme was casual, I was still stewing over a "conversation" I had with Miss. Saucy Pants Teenager, and let me tell you, my stew not only had meat and potatoes, it had carrots, onions, AND garlic. So, when Mr. I'm Going to Flip You Off, flipped me off, I was pissed off.

Anyway, I casually followed Mr. Flip Off into the grocer, and while he waited in line to cash his check I tapped his shoulder.

Tap, tap. "Excuse me? Mr. Flip Off?" smiling like a casual shopper smiles.

"Yes?" Turning with a small smile sealed to his face.

"Did you just flip me off" Questioned the casual shopper.

"No," laughed Mr. Flip Off, "I was flippin off one of my friends."

"Ah," commented casual shopper, "well, next time make sure I'm not standing in between your friend and your flip off, because frankly, I was in direct line of sight of your flip off."

"No,' exclaims Mr. Flip Off. "It was at my cousin." He turns away and mutters, "God damn."

Smiling casually, "No, I don't think God had anything to do with it.

Don't even think Mr. Flip Off even said that he was sorry. Would I have been appeased by an apology? And what made him bring God into it? What did God have to do with it anyway?

Could this have been a result of extremely bad manners, poor upbringing, following the example set by peers, or just general teenage male behavior? I know that when I was his age, the fear of my momma finding out I had done something like that in public, much less use the "G.D." word, would have been enough to keep my middle finger in place, where it belonged. And let me tell you, she would have found out before I would have made it back out of the grocer's door. Not only would she have found out, but I would have more than likely been smacked a good one by the receiver of my finger.

It amazes me how society has changed. And frankly, I can hear some of you muttering in the background saying, "Shee, that ain't nothin. You need to come to my neighborhood." And you know, you're probably right. In an age where young girls roam the street wearing shorts that look like underwear, guys listen to songs that brag about rape (yes, someone was blaring these very lyrics from his car stereo letting the whole parking lot listen how he likes to rape his bitch and then get his game on), and the list goes on...I can't even begin to describe, and you probably already know more than even I know, our teens are getting educated. Whether you home school or public school, they are still being exposed to all of that "crap." And I know, I know, you've got to teach your children well. OH, and I am, trust me. IF my littles ever...and I mean..EVER behaved in such a manner and EYE found out, there would be more than hell to pay.

But I'm no fool. I've been a public educator long enough to know that there are good families that teach good behaviors and end up with good kids...and sometimes they don't. There are "bad" families, that don't teach any expected behaviors, and end up with "bad" kids...and sometimes they don't. Sometimes its luck of the draw...sometimes its what is taught at home...sometimes its do what I say not what I do...sometimes it's just throw it all in the pot and hope you get soup.

All I know is that that kid on Friday REALLY pissed me off.

But Please, Ma?

She thinks silently to herself, not daring to speak and alert the "mother" that she is in the car. Don't move, don't speak, be still and silent, and maybe the "mother" will not notice that it is me behind the wheel, and I will get to drive us home.

Aww, Ma. Please???


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Tankful Thankful Thursday

Due to the fog that encases my brain on occasion, I have stolen this idea from a librarian who dares to wear red pumps to work, http://pamperspective.blogspot.com. She's a wild one. The title of this post links to her original "Thankful Thursday. I can't seem to get my links active in my posts for some reason. Tanks, Pam!

In case you haven't noticed, and since you haven't been physically around to see me moping about, I've been having battling a batch o blues, and loosing. You wouldn't believe that someone with my sunny disposition would be battling da blues, but I have been, and it's really been a battle. Thanks to Ms. Pam, who's been battling not the blues, but some nasty bug, I now have a weapon to use in my battle. So, without further ado (what a cornball cliche' of a statement)...

Tankful Thankful Thursday:

1. The Tankful: Last year, Mr. Hurricane Ike paid a visit to Galveston, Texas, however, he couldn't resist stopping by our humble town before completing his trip. He was such a considerate, gracious, guest that he couldn't leave without returning our hospitality. So upon his departure of our region, and it was only a pit stop might I add, he left in his wake a tidal surge generous enough to share with five local communities. As a result of his oh-so-gracious gratitude, we are now what is considered homeless.

The Thankful: I am thankful for my parents who have generously opened their doors to us, yes, all seven of us, while we repair our storm battered home. It hasn't been easy (yes, it's true, you can never "really" go back home) on either party. We invade their (her) area, and they (she) invades ours. However, we would be lost without them, and I am so very grateful that in the midst of our troubles, they have welcomed us.

2. The Tankful: My second born daughter has struggled in school forever. She was able to start early due to delayed speech, and has maintained average to below average grades ever since, especially in the area of...Math. School has been, and still is, an enormous wart on her humanity. This is her first year in high school. Dun dun duuuuunnnnn (mystery scooby doo sound effects, in case you were wondering).

The Thankful: This has been one of the most incredible weeks in her high school career, and I, for one, am thankful. Beginning Saturday (yes, I'm counting Sat. as part of this week), the lovely Miss Cay was involved in drama rally, her first since making it into the Talented Drama program. Her school placed second. She didn't make All star Cast, which bummed her out a bit, but she was completely stoked. Secondly, she went to the Sadie Hawkins dance with a SUPER HOT COLLEGE GUY (okay, he's a friend that attends a local youth group with them, mother approved, good guy, and totally not a romantic interest), and all of her friends were dying to know where she got a hold of that guy. Needless to say, my attention loving daughter was totally loving it, and had a blast. Monday, at school, she is still basking in the admiration of her fellow students, when her drama teacher gives her the critique from Saturday's judges. They said her performance was incredible, and that the only reason she didn't make All star Cast was due to the length of her part. Too short (that will show that drama teacher...give her a bigger part huh?). BUT what I am most thankful for is the fact that Miss Cay MADE STRAIGHT A's ON EVERYTHING THIS SEMESTER! Can I get a Woo Hoo?

(aside: Miss Sephie, I love you, and even though you are not part of this post, I am thankful for every day I have with you (most of them anyway).

3. Final Tankful: Yes, as mentioned earlier, I've been rather downcast, downtrodden, down in da dumps, and drabby for a while now.

Final Thankful: I am thankful for having a husband who puts up with my moody moods. He does try to get to the bottom of my fits of dumpfulness, even though I'm not the most helpful when it comes to letting people know what's bothering me. I'm still not telling you what the problem was/is, and you can quit worrying if you did something to cause it (curiosity killed the cat you know), but I love you for wanting to fix it.

So, keeping with Pam's post, what are you thankful for?

(Pam should do a Mr. Linky for her Thursdays, huh...hint hint)

Night Falling

For my fifth pregnancy, the hormone dump I was experiencing not only made me violently ill, it took my breath away. So, early did I go into my first doctor appointment. My OBGYN is awesome, I'm going to add this early. She's got an amazing sense of humor, and usually lets me get my way...most of the time anyway, so when she was doing an ultra sound and whispered "oh crap," I sat up and paid attention. Of course, since I was only five weeks pregnant, she was using the "other" ultra sound tool. Prodding here, poking there, shoving (can that thing get any further in?) there until "Okay Alex, see that? I think we're looking at two." Yes, two. I didn't say "Oh crap." No, I won't post what I said here, but it was followed by hysterical, maniacal laughter.

Two? At 39? Two? Almost 40? Two? When we already have four at home?

Oh Crap.

Dr. OBGYN went on to say that one of the egg sacs wasn't as developed as the first so she wanted to see me again in one week.

(sick, sick, worry, worry, more sick, more sick, freaking out, sick again, acceptance, dog ass sick, excited....a brief description of that week. I don't feel like going into detail).

Back to Dr. OBGYN, one week later. It was gone. Vanishing Twin Syndrome. It happens more often than not, actually, and most are never even discovered due the practice of waiting until the second trimester to give ultra sounds. But mine was discovered. And it was real to me. Yes, I know what the extra burden having an additional baby would have been. I know the risk I would have been placed in being 39 and pregnant for twins. I know it would have cramped our eight passenger vehicle that was already seating seven of us. I know all of that.

I miss my baby. I wanted to know him...or her...hold him in my arms. Love him more than I already do. Yes, I love him. He was real. I saw him. And I miss him.

Is that normal? Am I being selfish due to the fact that I have five amazingly wonderful children already? Is it okay to mourn a baby that just went away?

I think it is, and I do.