Archive for the Category » Vents and Whines «

April 23rd, 2010 | Author:

I’ve written before about the friends that I’ve made here – and it seems like every time I turn around I have another story that exemplifies that wonderful group that we’ve found ourselves a part of.

Another case in point:  two days before TheKidlet’s birthday party, DaHubby and I realized that, because of various reasons, she had TWO kids (out of six invitees) say yes, they were coming.   This, after having to cancel the original date because she had the stomach flu.

We had opted for a party at Michael’s craft store and I was saddened for her that there would just be the three of them.  AND…. three 9 year olds?  An odd number of girls is a Recipe for Disaster.  I talked to my bestie, CK, about it and she simply said “You know what to do.  Activate the phone tree.”

I texted GH, CC, and JO – and within four minutes, LITERALLY, she had five additional children coming to her party.  They had a ball, TheKidlet was thrilled, and I called birthday party number nine a success.  Consider me moved to tears repeatedly by these women.

As an aside, I highly recommend Michael’s for parties.  Not expensive, they do everything, and it’s all over in three hours.

After the party, it was Game Night at GH’s house.  There were new people there, out of town guests.  Our kids …. all upstairs playing, the new kid decided to either hit or kick each child present at least once.  The five year old was hit in the face with a shoe.

Our kids?  Locked him in the bathroom.  Now, of course I don’t condone vigilantism in any form, and they have all been reminded that getting an adult is the proper course of action …. but really, when the kids aren’t around, there are high-fives among the adults for the fact that our kids all worked together to take care of a problem.  And warm fuzzies that we know our kids all have each others’ backs.

And lastly, a rant:  we get together for breakfast on Fridays when we can.  We have a favorite restaurant, a favorite waitress, we each have our favorite meals.   This morning, we met for breakfast:  CK, GH, KSC, and myself.  A rare treat these days with my new work schedules, but we made it happen.  Talk this morning was tame, comparatively speaking.  We noticed early on that there were kids behind us and that probably tempered our conversation, however subconsciously.

GH has health problems, medical issues that are treated by a top team of doctors and that require medication.  She discussed the medications briefly at breakfast.  We walked outside when we were done, and there was a note on GH’s car.  This note basically said that her health issues are a result of the things that she says.  And then referred her to a church’s website.  WTF?!?  Who says something like that – something so judgmental and yet so cowardly?  I mean if you’re gonna sit in judgment, do it openly; don’t leave an anonymous note.   I sincerely hope that the entire congregation of this church isn’t as moronic as this person, or there’s a group of people who are cranky from trying to live up to an unattainable ideal of perfection.  Sigh.  This is why I don’t belong to a church and have a dislike of organized religion.

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May 29th, 2009 | Author:

Before I start this post, I’m just going to say one thing:  Mom, it’s not nice to laugh.  Especially when you’re doing it hysterically, pointing and giggling and holding your stomach.

OK, so those of you who know me, or know my mom, know that this is related to that age-old curse that mothers bestow on their daughters every day: I hope you have one just like you.

I know she LOOKS like me.  Except for the curly hair that she refuses to detangle in the mornings but whatever.  The child is mine.  There’s no denying her, I can’t say it’s because she is adopted or not mine.

Today was the  culmination of several weeks of just generally bratty behavior.  There’s been a lot going on with the move, and not being around her friends as much, etc., so we’ve been a bit more tolerant than usual.  Today, that ends, and it ended with a wimpering bang.

I picked her up from school today, and since it was a nice day, I had the sunroof open.  She got in the car, and asked for cold air.  I blasted the a/c. I mentioned that I needed to go to the bank, and because it was Friday – let’s go to Sonic and get a treat.

Along the drive, I felt carefree and happy and raised my hand out through the sunroof.  This generated the reaction that I was “stealing her air.”  What?!?  Ooookay.  I explain to her that if anything, because of the wind deflector thingie in front of the sunroof, she was getting MORE air when I was deflecting it back into the car than she was if my hand was in the car.  (Which it was by this point, simply for safe driving practices.)

So then she asks if she can open her window.  I can’t stand to have windows open while I’m driving – the sunroof is different because of the wind deflector thingie – and besides I had the A/C blasting, which even with the sunroof open was keeping the car cool and comfortable.  I tell her no, and state my reasons.  She looks at me …. …. and rolls down her window.

OK, Sonic was removed from the agenda.  We went to Aldi’s instead.

After Aldi’s, I asked her to check the mail and then come help me carry the groceries in.  She developed a sprained ankle in the 12 feet from the car to the mailbox.  (sarcasm here, people.)

She came inside, I told her to put the dishes in the  sink in the dishwasher. She started whining.  Rather than risk another broken bone (sarcasm again) I sent her to bed.   That caused a tantrum.

She spent an hour in her room and then came down to do the dishes.  Suddenly, after months of helping me load the dishwasher, and mostly doing it herself, she has forgotten how to put plates in the dishwasher.  She is ready to quit and walk away because the bottom rack is full – mostly because she has put all the plates in cockeyed and they are taking up three slots.  Each.

During all of this, her mouth is opening and she is coming out with these smart assed remarks that I could picture coming from a teenager.

But from my eight-year old?

Good googly moogly.

I am in for a ride.

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January 31st, 2009 | Author:

and now every time I type of possessive or contraction, I have to go back and re-insert the apostrophe because the first time it didn’t take.  And now my spell check is marking the word “didn’t” as mis-spelled.  Coincidence?  I’m thinking no.  I’m thinking they’ve been after retribution ever since that Tea Party thing.

I seriously just sat here and mapped out how many hours I spend doing <whatever> each week and subtracting it from the number of hours in a week and whining about how I don’t have time to do everything I need to do.

And I looked at it and said “Holy shit.  I’m a major whiner.”

Then I thought about a conversation I had with my dear friend Lani some years ago – she asked me how long I’d had health problems.  The question took me by surprise, because as far as I know, I’m relatively healthy.  I reflected for a moment and realized that every time we talked I had some malady to complain about even if it was just being tired.

I finally laughed and told her I don’t have health problems, I have whining problems.  And I resolved to do better.

I don’t think that I have, though.  Or maybe – the fact that I caught that post before I published it means that I am getting better. I just have to whine about it 😉

Oh, and all of this self-reflection and realization TOTALLY does not erase my justification for needing a cleaning person.

January 16th, 2009 | Author:

The title, of course, for any Jericho fans out there, is something Gerald McRaney muttered during a speech the town’s new mayor was giving.  Despite the fact that it’s not a comedy, that was one damn funny episode.  It may not have meant to be, or the undertones may have been purposeful.  But I laughed.

Anyway, so…. my rant, because I’m still pretty pissed off about it.  An update on my last posting about CTU – my dilemma was that I needed to decide if I should apply.  I applied.

And things went to hell in a handbasket from there.

My advisor is pretty decent, if a little …. salesman-ish, I guess.  Anyway, we get me all set up, and then the assault from Financial Aid begins.  I end this assault by faxing – yes, old school faxing! – my advisor, telling him to withdraw my application.  Finally, I tell him I am signing nothing until I know what they will accept out of my transfer credits.

Cause you know I have a freakin’ buttload.

You know what they told me?

They’ll take TWO classes.  TWO.

And those both came from my Associates Degree.  No shit.  None of the 30 classes I’ve taken since 1997 would transfer.

Buh-bye, CTU.  Hello, Winston-Salem State University.  I’m gonna design my own freakin’ degree, and use the requirements for admission to the WCU Masters in Project Management as my guide.  There ya go.

But that means that I can’t start til uhm, summer.  And do you know how long it’s been since I’ve not had classes?  What will I do with my time?  I started cross-stitching a baby thing for a friend, maybe I’ll actually finish that.  DaHubby would pass out.  I’ve started a lot of projects for the board, what will I do when I finish them?  OMG.

Yeah, I’m really gonna need to get a new hobby.


November 15th, 2008 | Author:

So our night at the 1927 Lake Lure Inn was the night that the time changed.  Do you suppose anyone told the kidlet that?  No.  Da Hubby and I had a room to ourselves, complete with wine, snacks, and leftover food.

And the kidlet came knocking on the door at …. 7AM.  Good cripes.  Yes, kidlet, go away.  My poor mother.

So we eventually get up and get going and we head downstairs and check out of one of the rooms – the dog had to stay in the other, and we needed a late checkout time for it so we could do the brunch downstairs in the hotel.

We had to wait for a few minutes for brunch to start so I took some photos around the front of the hotel.

Brunch was good, especially the chocolate fountain, but not really the kind that I would have gone back for thirds and fourths just because the food was so yummy, you know?  I enjoyed the one plate I had, and went back for dessert, but that was it.

Then we were off to the tour boats that I’d read about.  We wanted to take the tour to see where Dirty Dancing was filmed!

But we got there just a couple of minutes too late to make the boat that was pulling out of the dock, and we had to wait for the 1PM boat.  That was fine- there was a park right there we could wander through, and both the kidlet and the dog had energy to burn.

Okay, it gets fairly photo-intensive from here, so I’m going to do a MORE tag….. click on it below.