She’s a good kid

So I’m sitting at my computer doing classwork and Isis runs in and goes “Mommy I did my chore” (we’ve started a chore chart but dumbass me keeps forgetting about it)

So I get up and follow her thinking she picked up her toys or something. She takes me into the kitchen and says “I swept!”

And so she did. There was a little pile of stuff she had swept up from the kitchen.

So proud

It was a good day

I got no presents, hell I didn’t even get a card. But I got to sleep till 8am (6 or earlier is my usual “N2 is awake” time).  Made lunch for my mom, went for a bike ride (and yes my big white ass is totally out of shape), re-arranged the office, which is fun for me and went to dinner at Steak n Shake.  Yep Steak n Shake.  My choice.  I didn’t want to get dressed up or any of that shit.

The most imporant thing was that N1 was *with* the kids all day, even when his back started to hurt.  Now to make that an more than once a year thing

/WAIT, I did get a present.  Isis made me one at school.  A decorated box with a candle and kisses inside.

//I’ll take it

Nothing is going on

Just random thoughts

I’ve been thinking about my anti-religion stance and wondering if it is actually anti-religion or just “good FSM I’ve had enough and I’m just going through some issues to figure out where I stand”

Religion was my LIFE as a child. When your dad is a preacher of an evangelical church, it’s not like you have a choice. We were there Wednesday, ALL day Sunday and random other days. So it was true, all of it. It was a given. Mom believes it, and more importantly DADDY believes it, so it must be true.

So you can imagine, when I’ve finally come to the realization that I don’t believe as they do…it’s quite a shock. Part of me still goes “you’re just rebelling–of COURSE you still believe as your parents”—it’s a HARD fucking thing to break away and pretty much reject everything that is important to your parents

N sent me a link that actually hit really close to home for me. I hope it makes sense

Trying to be at peace

Background….I am an Air Force Brat.  An Air Force Officer’s Brat.  An Air Force Officer Chaplain’s Brat (but that’s a whole nother post).  I moved around a LOT.  Even after I moved out of my parents house, I still moved.  N and I got together in 1995 and since then have moved eight times.  Damn.  The most important of those moves was from Colorado to California.

California.  I lived there for eight years. The longest I lived anywhere.  I consider it my home.  And we left.  Why?  Well, N got a gig in Chicago, and at the time we were kind of sick of the California “lifestyle”. Monterey is M.O.N.E.Y.  Hella HUGE money.  And probably the only place where N could find work in CA was San Jose. Blech.  After Monterey, even San Jose sucks.

So off to Chicago, which long story short.. COLD!!!!!!!!!! FARKIN COLD!!!  I could NOT get out of there fast enough.  I miss my PMoms sooo freakin much tho.  So we moved to Texas.  It seems with each move we get further and further into hell.    Honestly, most days it doesn’t bother me.  Ok so most people here are right wing religious freaks. But I’m finding some shades of “blue” and godlessness here and there. Tolerable.   Hell I went to high school and two years of college in Oklafreakinhoma,  so I know hell.  This is a ring but it is NOT hell.

So what’s my problem?  I MISS California.  Oh noodley FSM I miss it.  Thinking about Monterey makes my heart ache.  It’s an actual physical pain.  Why?  You would think after three years it wouldn’t hurt so much. Just thinking about the Tuesday farmer’s market makes me want to bust into tears.   But there’s no way we could go back. Even if we had the funds to move there and miracles of miracles I found a job (N works from home), we could never afford a house and we would always just be scraping by. I moved here for the kids. I want to be able to afford to buy *I*swimming lessons, gymnastics, soccer, whatever.  N2’s obviously going to play football (have you SEEN this child), he’s already learned how to “take a knee” at 15 months.  I wouldn’t be able to do this stuff in CA, and plus Grandma, Pa-pa, Nanny and Opa are here.  Having the kids see their grandparent’s all the time is something I never got.  I want them to.

The question is (man I’m wordy tonight)….how to I come to terms with this.  To paraphrase Shifu from Kung Fu Panda (freakin funny—watch it) “I need to be at peace”.  We’re in Texas…for the long haul unless something radical happens.  How do I deal?  How do I make it my home?

But when I die, cremate me and take me back to the ocean.

small container with handle list

Because bucket list sounds so much better???

1) Go back to Europe, see the countries I didn’t get to see as a teenager

2) Go skydiving

3) Go see a Coldplay concert with Cathy (cuz that would just farkin ROCK)

Is there supposed to be a certain number of items? Well it’s all I have so far

AIG who doesn’t hate them?

But Matt Taibbi is definitely up there at the top.

http://www.alternet.org/mediaculture/133627/aig_exec_whines_about_public_anger,_and_now_we/%27re_supposed_to_pity_him_yeah,_right/?comments=view&cID=1171323&pID=1170852#c1171323

At Church

NOT ME! (can you imagine) but *I*. Grandma and Pa-pa are going to church every Sunday now that they found a “charismatic” church they like and being four *I* finds it mysterious and exciting. Where DO they go for hours on Sunday and WHOA they get to dress UP? I wanna go!!!

So she got it into her head this week to go and while the parental units are ok with her going to church (it’s not like we can stop it—we’re in farkin TEXAS), it’s still pretty weird.

I haven’t been IN a church in 11 years and that was for my wedding. (church only because it was kick-ass GORGEOUS, still didn’t have any religious undertones in the ceremony) and the last time I went to church and like heard a sermon? Ummmmm, ahhhh, 1993? maybe 1994. So I feel out of touch as to what actually goes on there.

The main thing I’m freaked out about right now? It’s Lent and whooo boy do the evangelicals like to talk about the Passion. I’m not sure I want my four year old baby girl listening to a full on description of the crucifixion.

At least it’ll be easy to de-brief her.

“What did you learn about in church?”

“A guy named Jesus was killed but came back 3 days later and then went to heaven”

“Do you really think that’s possible? Can someone come back when they’re dead?”

So stay tuned to see what her answer will be.

/more than likely she’ll remember nothing
//gotta love the attention span of a 4 year old.

Tired

So on top of Isis being sick (ran a 103 fever off and on for 3 days), I early shopped a resale last night and worked said resale for 4 hours today. GOOD FSM. I have a new respect for the organization of these things and have a new hatred for people who over-tape their tags. (I got to remove tags from items for 2.5 hours).

I got Nadan a huge Tonka dump truck. He squealed when he saw it and the proceed to STAND in it.

/it’s a good thing I have health insurance on this kid

Now what?

Here’s the problem….do I just write random shit? My life is so farkin dull right now I can’t imagine anything I say is going to be interesting.

Hells, I guess I should just write it for me. My short term memory is shot (thanks pot and LSD) so maybe I can keep track of the cute things my kids do that I swear I’ll remember forever then forget.

Like Isis saying “we practiced saving a guy in swimming class mommy”
“oh really, what was wrong with him?”
“he was draining”

Here I am

So I had a dream that I should start a blog and call it Lasterday.   Lasterday is I’s description of anytime that has happened previous to right now.

“Mommy?    You know lasterday when we took the train to chi-ga-go?”

“uh ya baby are you talking about last christmas (nine months ago)?”

“ya mommy. Lasterday”

I love her

Who the hell knows if I’ll actually keep up with this, or if I’ll actually be good at it.  Forewarning, it’ll probably be about the kids 99.999999% of the time