tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14242602965239952232024-03-12T22:11:18.722-07:00More Than EnoughDrew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-8885942931930618022012-01-13T08:41:00.000-08:002012-01-13T08:41:07.963-08:00Over-Protective..Paranoid..or Just Realistic<span style="color: #0c343d;">Growing up, my sister and I ran the streets... Literally. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">We would come home from school, possibly finish our homework, then we were gone until dinner. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">I remember times like this from the age of 6... </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Out at different friends houses... </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Riding bikes all around the neighborhood...</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Walking down to McDonalds hoping we could afford some french fries.. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Every weekend we either spent the night at a friends house, or someone spent the night at our house. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">There were endless birthday parties and sleepovers... </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">We had fun. We loved our freedom and nothing bad ever happened. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">My son's childhood looks NOTHING like this.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">We do not live in a neighborhood where I would feel safe letting him even walk down the street... But we live in a neighborhood in a house that I can afford, with all the bills paid on time, food on the table and a ridiculous amount of video games occupying his room.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">My son spends and extra hour and a half at school after class ends. I have to work till 4:00 and we do not live close to the school. (Not that he would be walking home.. it's just not that kind of neighborhood..) He gets to play with the other kids that stay late too... but it's not the same.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">His evenings consist of homework time while Mom makes dinner.. then some play time with Mom... then bed time.. with Mom. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Drew does not go to his friends homes... unless I am with him.. the entire time. Play dates are allowed... just not DROP OFF play dates. I trust my son as much as you can trust any 8 year old... but I do not trust the rest of the world.. There are too many "What Ifs" running through my head... </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">He has attended many birthday parties for friends from school... and I've been right there the entire time for every one of them... I am not a DROP OFF kind of parent. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">There's a family that practically begs me every other weekend to let Drew come to there house to play for a few hours. Their son and Drew are in the same class and get along really well. Every week I get tempted to do it... especially when Drew gives me his little puppy dog eyes and promises that he'll be safe... just breaks my heart. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">But every time, my brain wins.. over my heart. Safety first... always. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">I would rather my son be a bit disappointed than have the unthinkable happen.... and for me, the list of the unthinkable is pretty long.. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;">Eventually I know I won't be able to chaperon every activity in his life.. I know at some point I have to trust the rest of the world with my baby... I just don't see that day coming any time soon. </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-56421969707246696782012-01-06T09:01:00.000-08:002012-01-06T09:01:09.125-08:00Eventually...The one thing I want most in this world is a happy and healthy child.<br />
<br />
And whether Drew is 8 or 88 he will ALWAYS be my child. My baby... the love of my life. And I will always want that one thing more than anything in the world.<br />
<br />
There are other things that I want. Eventually....<br />
<br />
I want to be a social worker... and help as many children and families as possible. I don't exactly want to go back to school... but it's necessary in order to accomplish this, so it's in my plans.<br />
<br />
I want to live ON the beach. I want my front door to open to the ocean breeze and warm sand.<br />
<br />
I want to dance. I used to LOVE dancing in high school.. and for the few years I did after school.. and I'd love to get back into it. Just casually, maybe a class once a week or so.<br />
<br />
I want a maid. I want to never have to clean cobwebs, window sills, or the bathtub... never ever.<br />
<br />
These are things that I want.. and hope to accomplish.. EVENTUALLY.<br />
<br />
But before I even make the slightest step in accomplishing or even starting any of these... I will raise a happy and healthy child. I just hope that one day I will have a healthy, happy, responsible and mature adult son... who is still my child..<br />
<br />
My son comes first... ALWAYS...<br />
and until and unless any of these things are conducive with my son being healthy and happy... they will wait... they will happily wait.Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-32706476945610075622012-01-04T08:30:00.000-08:002012-01-04T08:40:05.102-08:004 Days In...Just for the sake of accountability... let's see how we've done on our "goals" for 2012 so far:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Spend Less</span>: Well.. we were doing ok.. nothing extra spent (other than a $3 movie & game rental), and even spent less on our weekly grocery trip... then it happened. I told Drew to start researching ideas for his upcoming science project. While he was online looking through some lists, I made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, reading the line "What types of food does a mouse respond best to?"... and then saying to my son, "Hey you should do this one. We could totally have an itty bitty little mouse!"... He turned the laptop off, I grabbed my purse and we headed straight for the pet store. An hour and $71 dollars later, we are now the proud (and poor) owners of 2 adorable little mice..... Let's hope I can make it through the rest of the month without any more bright ideas.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VpHmFeNXyHo/TwSAIjBC47I/AAAAAAAAAyk/lL8M1LLwZJE/s1600/Mouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VpHmFeNXyHo/TwSAIjBC47I/AAAAAAAAAyk/lL8M1LLwZJE/s320/Mouse.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Stop Eating Our Money</span>: Surprisingly we've done great at this one. On the way home from my sisters at 7:30am on New Years Day, I made the decision that we were starting our journey home with trip to Starbucks. My little man objected saying we'd be breaking the rule of eating out.. but I found a loop hole to this one.. I had 2 Starbucks gift cards burning a hole in my wallet. So yes, technically we did eat out.. but it didn't cost anything so in my book it doesn't count.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Vacation in San Francisco</span>: I went over this plan with Drew again the other night.. and now he's not so sure he wants to go anymore. He still wants to see the bridge.. but doesn't think there's anything else he'll want to do there. So we might be going back to the drawing board for vacation ideas.. but still saving for the trip.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Stay Home: </span>I hate this one. Our house is boring.. and there are 100 things staring at me begging to be cleaned.. but we've done it.. pretty much (aside from the mouse & movie shopping trips).<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Pay Off Car</span>: Man, I can NOT wait until this is done. I went over my statement last night and was just disgusted. I had horrible credit when I bought my car and my interest rate is ridiculous... I do want to buy a new car. I do NOT NEED to buy a new car... but I know it's going to be SUPER hard not to buy one once this one is paid off... Wish someone would have given me some self control for Christmas...<br />
<br />
So we're not off to the greatest start so far...<br />
But I'm not giving up yet.<br />
My plan for next month is to do some serious research into investment options. Mostly for Drew's money that's barely earning anything in his savings account... but if it works out ok, I plan to start doing more investing than I am now with my 401k and IRA.<br />
<br />
Now if I could just squeeze a maid into my monthly budget things would be fantastic!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBtcXRGMwyU/TwSAN0Qop4I/AAAAAAAAAyw/r4Or8BHfTxI/s1600/US2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBtcXRGMwyU/TwSAN0Qop4I/AAAAAAAAAyw/r4Or8BHfTxI/s320/US2011.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">** Snuck in an end of the year expense of new pictures before we started our 2012 goals.. (this is a phone pic of the actual pictures).</span></div>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-79768289630126946602011-12-29T14:19:00.000-08:002011-12-29T14:19:00.092-08:00Plans for 2012I could make a hundred resolutions for 2012... but I guarantee I'd break them all... relatively quickly..<br />
<br />
So instead, we're making PLANS..<br />
or maybe we could even call them goals...<br />
<br />
There are several things that I've decided need to be altered or even changed completely in our lives.. most of these are financial...<br />
<br />
Then there are the things that we, as a family would like to see happen...<br />
<br />
I figure that if I put it all here.. in a list.. and attempt to update on the progress of each at least monthly.. then maybe I'll be more likely to stick to making them all happen... nothing like a little accountability.<br />
<br />
So here we go...<br />
<br />
1. <span style="color: #0b5394;">Spend Less</span>: I have a sever shopping addiction.. Shopping is literally my hobby. I'm not a fan of buying expensive things at all.. I prefer multiple trips each week to the thrift store to see how much I can come home with.. or some unnecessary trips to Target here and there. The plan is to not spend unless it's a necessity... and then to take any money that would have possibly been spent, and put in away to be SAVED.. or applied to paying off my car.<br />
<br />
2. <span style="color: #0b5394;">Stop Eating Our Money</span>: Our weekly grocery costs are minimal.. but that's because we eat out at least 3 times a week... at least. This seriously needs to stop. We have at least 2 weeks worth of food in the freezer right now.. this is proof that we have plenty of food at home that we already spent the money on and should be eating. The plan is to only eat out once a month... This will probably be the hardest of all.<br />
<br />
3.<span style="color: #0b5394;">Vacation in San Francisco</span>: We've spent the last 3 years in Las Vegas for our vacation.. it's time for something new. Drew absolutely refuses to get on a plane, so we're sticking to somewhere in driving distance that neither of us has ever been to. I'd like to spend no more than $700 on this trip.. so it's time to start saving and researching for this trip now.<br />
<br />
4. <span style="color: #0b5394;">Stay Home</span>: This will be another hard one for me.... When we're home Drew wants to play video games.. I hate video games.. and I'd rather just lay in my bed and watch tv.. but I get bored easily, so every weekend we end up going out somewhere and spending ridiculous amounts of money, just to get out of the house. It's time for us to start enjoying our home.. and spending more time in it.. and maybe getting some projects completed while we're at it.<br />
<br />
5. <span style="color: #0b5394;">Pay Off The Car:</span> Technically my car is scheduled to be paid off in March 2013... but that's too far away for me.. and I hate making that payment every month. So I've decided to try to pay as much extra towards the principal every month and get this thing paid off my the end of 2012.<br />
<br />
<br />
There are a few more things financially that I'd like to adjust, but I'm waiting till my raise kicks in next month and I find out what my tax return amount will be so I can adjust accordingly.<br />
<br />
Here's to a less expensive year!! Cheers!Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-34734178481133698692011-12-29T08:12:00.000-08:002011-12-29T08:12:08.255-08:00Christmas 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7DaHyCbuvI/TvyOpfTFWiI/AAAAAAAAAxk/WQykzW_SiZU/s1600/Christmas3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7DaHyCbuvI/TvyOpfTFWiI/AAAAAAAAAxk/WQykzW_SiZU/s320/Christmas3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Another Christmas has come and gone... <div><br />
</div><div>I can't begin to describe the joy of having spent every single Christmas Day of my life with my HUGE and incredible family... </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EwGThzZTmKI/TvyPZBd5HcI/AAAAAAAAAyA/c_evBKDuoDg/s1600/Christmas4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EwGThzZTmKI/TvyPZBd5HcI/AAAAAAAAAyA/c_evBKDuoDg/s320/Christmas4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
And I love that my son can say the same... every Christmas of his life.. in that same room...<br />
<br />
Seeing the smiles on his face with each gift makes all the debt I acquired to produce them, well worth it..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rm94muB1o-M/TvyQWaa70yI/AAAAAAAAAyM/FoGxRDe2U0k/s1600/Christmas6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rm94muB1o-M/TvyQWaa70yI/AAAAAAAAAyM/FoGxRDe2U0k/s320/Christmas6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Family is everything.... not just on Christmas.. but ALWAYS.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Love my "not-so-little" nephew.. and all that he taught me without even knowing it... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TIZfmJ_pV3U/TvyQqK0KM2I/AAAAAAAAAyY/fVYui15Xhh8/s1600/Christmas2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TIZfmJ_pV3U/TvyQqK0KM2I/AAAAAAAAAyY/fVYui15Xhh8/s320/Christmas2.jpg" width="303" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Another Christmas... has come and gone... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But I will continually be thankful for my little "gift"... my amazing son who I can not begin to imagine life without... I love you my sunshine... Forever, For Always & No Matter What!</div><br />
</div>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-10908912742945146222011-10-05T12:01:00.000-07:002011-10-05T12:01:50.485-07:00Toothless Joe is Spoiled<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This boy and his teeth. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he was five we used to wonder if his teeth were ever going to fall out. The other kids in kindergarten had already lost a tooth or two, but not my little man.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fast forward a couple years, and now we can't seem to keep the freakin' teeth in. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoqEru1bT1MAydKbfqB7PShf3YhX87eHx4WZHIDepsy9ZmcshbyrErgQBgcFcZK7Ufo9gpKvKGHLXqdWkkS5I8tm-dNoGRYefwkWgSwkkyQHVEnCSVqMucObBu53-2DYr2G6muFTR8hGa/s1600/teeth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoqEru1bT1MAydKbfqB7PShf3YhX87eHx4WZHIDepsy9ZmcshbyrErgQBgcFcZK7Ufo9gpKvKGHLXqdWkkS5I8tm-dNoGRYefwkWgSwkkyQHVEnCSVqMucObBu53-2DYr2G6muFTR8hGa/s320/teeth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First we have the top two teeth that fell out in February and refuse to come back in.... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then last night he pulled out the bottom one. That tooth had been loose for weeks, but I forced him to keep it in at least until they took the school pictures. So last night when I saw that the tooth was barely hanging in there anymore, I made him pull it out. I say MADE because this drama-child of mine who's been begging to pull this tooth out seriously cried and almost threw up when I told him to pull it out. He is his mother's child.... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So now he is known as Toothless Joe.. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And around here Toothless Joe is currently being extra spoiled. His birthday is at the end of the month, and last week we officially started the countdown. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZSuw-S0hQ1RSrkD7CJBc8Vjht1sg6h5um6U9HwuBI7LX_3khLyh9nzBH117JdIAoOt3EvmtWWPOIgwV09S5WJqmI4FW1oNqLszdcYD-rYgzOp2uLJCgd3TA9OLqBulIDJ2djPtO6IMXK/s1600/DSCN5196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZSuw-S0hQ1RSrkD7CJBc8Vjht1sg6h5um6U9HwuBI7LX_3khLyh9nzBH117JdIAoOt3EvmtWWPOIgwV09S5WJqmI4FW1oNqLszdcYD-rYgzOp2uLJCgd3TA9OLqBulIDJ2djPtO6IMXK/s320/DSCN5196.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last year I made him this birthday advent box so we could count down the days till his birthday. Each day he gets little things like candy or a dollar, and some days there are notes that say "Open a gift" or "Donuts for breakfast". </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gNFfRDkbmGc8EFHA9AYUBB0t_O1Soiq9BZPtV-bvEh7A9xhmHs47ma_t14APKuKq1qhyhtIxsFmqxhTgDE0oCus2gd6bxmZhYDmgyijmLzI8P6-Z0n-r2Fid8Yr_pFpUWbKAl69maefB/s1600/DSCN5199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gNFfRDkbmGc8EFHA9AYUBB0t_O1Soiq9BZPtV-bvEh7A9xhmHs47ma_t14APKuKq1qhyhtIxsFmqxhTgDE0oCus2gd6bxmZhYDmgyijmLzI8P6-Z0n-r2Fid8Yr_pFpUWbKAl69maefB/s320/DSCN5199.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This way we get to celebrate his birthday all month long. He loves this box and it's the first thing he asks to do every morning when he wakes up. I sure do love seeing that smile... missing teeth and all. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Come to think of it, maybe I should stop giving him candy in that box and maybe his teeth might stay in a little longer!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-54431670056617397332011-09-30T09:25:00.000-07:002011-09-30T09:25:24.716-07:00The Joys of 3rd Grade<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I miss 2nd grade.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not my 2nd grade class, but my son's.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was not a fan of his year spent in 2nd grade... but right about now I'm missing it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Homework is harder... spelling tests are not given on Fridays... there are new kids in this class that I don't know... my kid is expected to be RESPONSIBLE. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I'm all for kids being responsible.. especially mine... but as much as I wish he were, Drew is just not the responsible type... he's never really had to be since his mom is super over involved in his life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like the notes that came home in 2nd grade that gave me at least a few days notice before supplies were needed for a project. I miss the daily conversations with his teacher and review of his classwork so that nothing was ever left incomplete. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last night after dinner while we were just hanging out, Drew asked if he could use the computer to print some stuff. I said sure and asked what he needs to print.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drew - "I need to print some animal pictures for my diorama."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mom - "Ummm... what diorama? When are you guys starting those?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drew - "Well some kids started there's today, but I need to bring in a shoe box so I can start mine."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mom - "Wait a minute... when did you find out about this project and why haven't I heard about it yet?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drew - "Well she told us the other day and I was supposed to bring a box today but I forgot to ask for one at Dad's last night."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This kid is SOOO not ready for verbal instructions that he's supposed to remember to relay to his mother!! I need notes send home.. or emails.. or reminders posted on the door at school.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And in case that wasn't enough... on the way to school this morning he blurts out "today is Mrs. Williams' birthday."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How in the world am I supposed to be super-mom and bring the teacher an awesome gift with 3 minutes notice?!?!? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Responsibility at age 7 is non-existent... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But he turns 8 in twenty-two days, so maybe there's hope.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then we have the "situation"... not the Jersey Shore kinda.. butt none the less, a situation.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drew says his project partner in class is having a situation. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guarantee I gave him the most confused look imaginable.. and then I asked for details. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently this kid keeps finding other peoples's belongings in his desk and backpack. And of course this kid has no idea how these items got there. The teacher doesn't want to come right out and declare the kid a thief... which he obviously is... so she's labeled it as a "situation" that they're dealing with. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I automatically give Drew a lecture on stealing and how a thief would be dealt with in our house. Drew automatically jumps to the kids defense and says "well Mom, we don't even know that he stole the stuff".... my poor gullible boy... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So for now I am not a fan of third grade... hopefully it improves.. and soon. Until then I'll continue to scramble for last minute project necessities and label every possession in my kids desk and backpack. </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-67551848472369992302011-09-27T09:07:00.000-07:002011-09-27T10:17:25.820-07:00Death Should Be Illegal<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And while we're at it.. can we please ban all negative emotions?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think handling death well is impossible. I tried this weekend... and failed miserably. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday morning my best friend's mom passed away. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had had the pleasure, the honor to have known this woman for 18 years. Since the day I met her, I called her Mom.... as did the friends of all her children. She was just Mom. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She battled brain cancer for 17 months. To say she was strong and brave is a huge understatement. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing for 17 months that someone is going to die soon does not make it any easier. I thought maybe it would, you know, having that chance to prepare your self.. to say goodbye... but it doesn't. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Losing Mom is beyond words. It hurts. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But for me, the hardest part of dealing with her death was watching her children go through this. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday afternoon I joined the family in her home. I watched her kids (all 5 are grown adults by definition.. but it's still hard to imagine any of us old enough for this). They cried... they shared memories.. we talked... we cried.. they were angry... each of them felt guilty in some way. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was one of the hardest times in my life. My heart literally hurt for them. I can not even begin to imagine what they're feeling.... what in the world do you even say?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't handle emotion very well AT ALL. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing that Mom no longer has to suffer.. isn't in pain... doesn't have to depend on anyone for her every need.. is finally at peace, helps a lot. I absolutely hated seeing or hearing her go through the awfulness that is cancer. She held on for a long time.. made every attempt possible to prolong her beautiful life... and not for her self. She did everything for those kids. She didn't want them to lose their Mom. She didn't want them to go through everything I watched them go through on Saturday...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate death. It sucks...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That night, after having spent a few hours with the family, I left to pick up my son and take him home. When I got to my sister's to get him, I was a mess. I tried to explain the awfulness that I had just experienced... I tried to describe how much it hurt to see those kids miss their Mom SOOO much. I told my sister about each of those kids is their for each other.. how they are the only ones who know exactly how the other ones feel... I told her that I don't ever want that day to come for us... I don't want us to have to be there for each other in that way.. EVER. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I told her how sad I feel for Drew... when that time inevitably comes he won't have that support system. Sure he'll have his cousins and friends... but he won't have a sibling who knows exactly what he lost.. exactly what he's feeling at that time. He'll have to lose his mom alone. I can't begin to describe how much that hurts me... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't know it at the time, but Drew heard my crying rambling rant to my sister that night. Last night when we were going to bed, he asked me if I could give him a little brother or sister. I laughed and asked him why he all of a sudden wanted one now when he's always been so adamant about me never having other kids... He said "so I don't have to be alone when I'm older.. you know, like you were telling TeeTee the other day... "</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hugged my little man super tight... and cried us both to sleep.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know that death is inevitable... for all of us. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just wish the pain that comes with it wasn't .... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rest in peace Mom... we love you forever. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Side note: Now both of my BFF's have lost their moms this year. First my BFF from high school.. and now my BFF since I was 11... again, death sucks! </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-63700769973730898212011-09-23T09:25:00.000-07:002011-09-23T09:25:21.068-07:00In The NewsFamily news that is...<br />
<br />
-Drew is still missing his top two front teeth. They fell out in February and have refused to come back in since. This irritates me to no end...<br />
<br />
-He now has a loose bottom tooth and I told him there's no way he's pulling it out until one of the other teeth come back in... I can not have a toothless kid! (I can almost guarantee that tooth will be out before the weekends over.... )<br />
<br />
-I have TMJ... and have had it for about a year. It sucks and there is no technical cure for it.... Lovely!<br />
<br />
-We have ZERO plans for the weekend and I couldn't be more excited about that. October, November and December will be complete chaos, so I intend to enjoy this carefree weekend to the fullest.<br />
<br />
-This morning in the car, Drew decides we should each list our strengths and weaknesses... he's 7 and I have no clue where he comes up with this stuff. He listed "being single" as one of his strengths... I burst out laughing... He is definitely Mama's Boy<br />
<br />
-I drive a Ford Focus. Nothing overly spectacular, but a great little car for us. Great on gas and I haven't had any major issues with it. However.... when I'm on a thrift store shopping spree, I often have to remind myself that we do not own a truck. In the last week I have had the thrift store employees force 3 large objects into that poor car... a Gazelle (exercise equipment), a HUGE dog house (for my 2 tiny chihuahuas), and a desk. All three were done separately... and when I got them home I had an awful time trying to figure out how to get them out of my car....<br />
<br />
-I have watched 17 hours of tv shows (Love me some Hulu), read 4 books, watched 2 movies and played endless games online this week at work. Yes, it's a tad slow here.... boredom is very boring. But getting paid for it does make it kind of worth it.<br />
<br />
-Drew has had a hard time deciding whether he wants an Ipod or an Xbox for his birthday. Well last night he came up with a solution. He says he'll take an Ipod for his birthday and just ask Santa for an Xbox for Christmas. I couldn't help but laugh.... This poor kid has no idea that after buying his birthday present, "Santa" will be BROKE when Christmas comes around. Last year he asked Santa to give all of his presents to the homeless.... guess this year he's feeling a little less charitable... poor me.<br />
<br />
-Today is the first day of Fall.... normally I am not a fan, but this year I'm kind of looking forward to it. (remind me of this when the temperatures start dropping... )Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-39785182617922530122011-09-08T09:05:00.000-07:002011-09-08T09:05:20.670-07:00My Idea of Happy is Way Different Than Yours<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What do you want in life?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What do you want out of life?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Other than a happy and healthy son, I couldn't really care less. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh wait, except I do want a house on the beach. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My family is always asking me about my plans for the future.. and what I want in life. This seems to me the kind of thing you ask a kid that's getting ready to graduate high school... not a 29 year old mother who's been living a happy and healthy, very fulfilled life for the last 8 years.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They ask me these things because I don't live their idea of a normal... traditional life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here are the facts that disturb them:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-I'm 29 and single. Completely single.. no, I do not date. At All.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-My idea of going out is a trip to Target or Ikea... there are no bars or clubs in my life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Cooking & cleaning are things I dread... apparently you're supposed to love it if you're a mom.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-I genuinely enjoy my time ALONE.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-My practically 8 year old still sleeps in my bed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-My wardrobe consists of 72 tank tops... dressing up is NOT my thing at all. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-When Drew's not home, I will go an entire weekend without talking to a single person. I am not a fan of people.. what can I say?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-I don't have the slightest career ambition. Zero desire to be employed in any way shape or form..... however, I am realistic and a mom, so I do work a full 40 hours every week.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-I have very few friends. Friends require time & energy that I don't have.. and when I do, I'd just rather spend it alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I tell people that I am happy... truly happy with my life, most don't believe me. They can't begin to imagine how that's even remotely possible since I'm not sharing it with anyone.... except Drew. I hate this... I am sharing my life with the absolute most important person in the world to me... and people can't see how that makes me happy. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I adore my son. I love him more that he'll ever know. And yes, he makes me happy... Every.Single.Day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And while my choices in life make others question my sanity.... I have to admit, I often question the life choices of every person I know.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For me, the idea of putting on dress clothes 5 days a week to go to work is insane. Skipping my son's awards program at school because I have a meeting at the office or an out of town business trip are things I will NEVER do. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let's not even talk about dating.... People bug me. I interact with them when and how I feel like it... that's as close to "dating" as I ever plan to get. If you want your thoughts, feeling and opinions to be taking into consideration by me.... it's never gonna happen, unless you're Drew.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How in the world are so many of you people in relationships... or even married?!?!? Compromise, commitment, expectations, sharing, and obligation are things that will never make sense to me. If someone wants to spend time with me, I want them to do it because they genuinely want to... not because we live together and they feel obligated to come home. I don't want someone to assume or expect that I will attend a wedding with them simply because they've given me the title of "girlfriend". I will always be a CHOICE... not an obligation.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everyone has their own version of happy. Different things make different people tick. People's wants are different... as well as their needs. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My life may be different than yours... but it's mine and I'm HAPPY. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Your life sure is different than mine... and doesn't make sense to me... but if you're TRULY happy... then I am happy for you. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Maybe one day my family will see it that way too. Maybe.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-40346957222056570992011-09-07T08:07:00.000-07:002011-09-07T08:07:22.595-07:00The Great Remodel of 2010 Continues.. in 2011<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Back in April 2010, the remodel of my house began. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(work being done by my landlord (AKA- my grandpa) and my uncle who does the work in his spare time... if he has any)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I asked for wood floors in my living room and dining room. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What I got was an ENTIRE house remodel. Every single room, every single wall, floor and window. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">While I appreciate all the nice new stuff.. and how great my house looks now... the problem is, it's still not done. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My room, the living room, dining room, hall and bathroom have been done. Only took a year to get those done.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But now they have officially moved on to the end (I HOPE) of the project. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Drew's room.... the kitchen and the laundry room. Oh, and last minute they decided to rip down the fence in my backyard and build a new one, and add a slab of concrete for the storage shed they think I need (ummm, yes, I do have a lot of crap Grandpa, thanks for noticing!)</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Dmd6eGxqrNi3YonkDLvy5mW8twEx5gorjawqhh22WG9eeLoxwUb0HWGgOURRp4NmKhPANK5F7lxo8cO__dDrjV5IfO1kAjx6Svm0ekgQGfQHaRIV5cP6vpo1bLq7wmhkXxtiyIsC550K/s1600/DSCN5146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Dmd6eGxqrNi3YonkDLvy5mW8twEx5gorjawqhh22WG9eeLoxwUb0HWGgOURRp4NmKhPANK5F7lxo8cO__dDrjV5IfO1kAjx6Svm0ekgQGfQHaRIV5cP6vpo1bLq7wmhkXxtiyIsC550K/s320/DSCN5146.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This part of the project has actually gone along pretty quickly over the last two weeks... until this weekend. My uncle was there both Saturday and Sunday working on Drew's room. Walls have come down, flooring has been ripped out and drywall is everywhere.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdeLpMwgtdPKBMhPPufjV9STr0Il5Z4yXi-hFe0MIvcNAFNLrAFbN6Jk7zH7GHU3SdxgL9AETA3rgbRsf0H5EcRbDoqJUHkBwlM7eYmm7eQNVDCkakQez0HjpwnxFclnnR5iNr5SXbnFZu/s1600/DSCN5143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdeLpMwgtdPKBMhPPufjV9STr0Il5Z4yXi-hFe0MIvcNAFNLrAFbN6Jk7zH7GHU3SdxgL9AETA3rgbRsf0H5EcRbDoqJUHkBwlM7eYmm7eQNVDCkakQez0HjpwnxFclnnR5iNr5SXbnFZu/s320/DSCN5143.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And while my uncle was working away inside... my cousin was outside in my grandparent's backyard (just on the other side of my back yard) putting in ANOTHER bathroom. Yep, a bathroom in the backyard... (of my grandparents house, not mine.) This was all fine and dandy and didn't concern me one bit, until they mentioned that they were connecting it to MY plumbing (but they pay my water bill so what do I care?) Oh, and there was a problem with one of the pipes so they wanted to replace the whole line.... That runs under Drew's room and my kitchen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are SOOO lucky that they were working on both projects at once because my cousin had to come in with a freakin' jack-hammer and dig a huge hole through the width of Drew's room and right down the middle of my ENTIRE kitchen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9owRMgJ1AfkDD2w7Jj6tnP7foNaJYvUx3ZnXlFA5qNeZJ5uz5eeWGB0Kinl0GXaKnLZjZ7zjRvCLXndy1f1gmjCLiN6DEINOsSFIfsvV3kfIhnREDrL4Rxdc0ERsTB3faDqGoCrGc-xOo/s1600/DSCN5169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9owRMgJ1AfkDD2w7Jj6tnP7foNaJYvUx3ZnXlFA5qNeZJ5uz5eeWGB0Kinl0GXaKnLZjZ7zjRvCLXndy1f1gmjCLiN6DEINOsSFIfsvV3kfIhnREDrL4Rxdc0ERsTB3faDqGoCrGc-xOo/s320/DSCN5169.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Horrible lighting, but that's the whole in the floor</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">of Drew's room looking in from my kitchen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN86JZmbvK6Hxl-qW6tDhqNPkI9ruKag1WhmrbNfQ16_IpCUMf51BUSonoDd5vheUC7Yt90SvB4IKpVGREsPPvYuqf1i0HhmnNaxWYC3cX6acmJz8hjL6mqock3xflXRn28ln9zPX7W92N/s1600/DSCN5167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN86JZmbvK6Hxl-qW6tDhqNPkI9ruKag1WhmrbNfQ16_IpCUMf51BUSonoDd5vheUC7Yt90SvB4IKpVGREsPPvYuqf1i0HhmnNaxWYC3cX6acmJz8hjL6mqock3xflXRn28ln9zPX7W92N/s320/DSCN5167.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I know you can't really see it here, but this </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">is my tiny kitchen with a massive hole in it.. and tarps</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">covering my countertops.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To say that it was a LOUD, filthy and eventful weekend is a huge understatement. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am not looking forward to cleaning up after this mess. The plan is to finish Drew's room completely before working on the kitchen. So they will be putting down a temporary floor until they're ready... at which time I will need to empty my kitchen completely in order to clean all the DUST and debris that has worked its way into my cabinets and every dish I own. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fun times!</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-56813216354930512592011-09-06T12:42:00.000-07:002011-09-06T12:42:34.933-07:003rd Grade<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It finally happened. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've known the day was coming for awhile (almost 8 years actually). But with this being our first full year in a private school with a year-round school schedule, it seemed to take forever. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning my little man.. love of my life.. my son, my moon & my stars... started THIRD GRADE.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimitYyBaQYurKb-3w4mwg20fkOMozes9mfcMDRbdmDsVH_RLf1vHYt1HPSa5_C1GdelUgpDTFNcJV5SlY08m2NQtBHzgHQLVr1eiPn7XB1Txa9ndfoWLhMKj9qGiHSa2_itdMC2cz7cPjj/s1600/3rd+Grade+2+%2528640x481%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimitYyBaQYurKb-3w4mwg20fkOMozes9mfcMDRbdmDsVH_RLf1vHYt1HPSa5_C1GdelUgpDTFNcJV5SlY08m2NQtBHzgHQLVr1eiPn7XB1Txa9ndfoWLhMKj9qGiHSa2_itdMC2cz7cPjj/s320/3rd+Grade+2+%2528640x481%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's just so freakin' cute, it's kills me! (Yes, very proud Mama)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had to force him to take the obligatory first day of school pictures before we left.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5VmrYM0gQDnB9QhFViQQlEl8BvChDOpCqyFcoeL0J-AYXndmVyulV1x1bY6mSiUg209nutrrCXGb3Q2HcHq7oTPvo_rV_0ylW5MNtOCgiEtkdcraG9J2PpFO6DimteYP5TGX2qEe4fp8/s1600/DSCN5179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5VmrYM0gQDnB9QhFViQQlEl8BvChDOpCqyFcoeL0J-AYXndmVyulV1x1bY6mSiUg209nutrrCXGb3Q2HcHq7oTPvo_rV_0ylW5MNtOCgiEtkdcraG9J2PpFO6DimteYP5TGX2qEe4fp8/s320/DSCN5179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's going to do GREAT. This boy is beyond ready for third grade... but he was still a bit nervous today. Right now I love knowing that my son's biggest fears are cursive & fractions... oh to be young again... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVGdnhhaDKN6p7TJ9AHtLzBFylHElpzIhaIpWvn-Il8lTc8zlE99DIaeuo2QCN3ijrcbfFQEZSIr1PD4vqbLbPx1tabVlk1M8QnT7ZBmMzW316tVnOGj3CVzFBPxsXEimhdVOSiziprAr/s1600/3rd+Grade+4+%2528640x481%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVGdnhhaDKN6p7TJ9AHtLzBFylHElpzIhaIpWvn-Il8lTc8zlE99DIaeuo2QCN3ijrcbfFQEZSIr1PD4vqbLbPx1tabVlk1M8QnT7ZBmMzW316tVnOGj3CVzFBPxsXEimhdVOSiziprAr/s320/3rd+Grade+4+%2528640x481%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bring it on 3rd grade!! My boy can handle it.. and hopefully I can too. I'm anxious to hear how his first day went.... and to see how many stains I need to remove from his precious white shirt. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And let me just add... that this is the first year that I didn't cry on the 1st day of school. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow... WE really are growing up. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-38377170519532857172011-09-02T10:06:00.000-07:002011-09-02T10:06:14.178-07:00The Randomness That is Us...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">* How in the world is it already September?? Anyone want to tell me why 2011 is flying by?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*We had orientation for little man's class last night. Third Grade... don't even get me started on how my itty bitty is even old enough for 3rd grade... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*I truly feel sorry for his teacher.. she will have to deal with me.. daily.. for the ENTIRE year. Yes, I am THAT Mom. The one that knows her child is the best thing to ever happen to the world, the mom that requires notification if her son so much as sneezes during class, the mom that needs to know 3 months in advance if there will be any field trips, class parties or projects. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*Drew's room is currently under construction. While I am SOOO glad that this project has FINALLY been started, and involves my minimal involvement... It still stresses me out because I know that I will eventually have to put everything back in there. We have never moved since Drew was born so I had no idea how much STUFF that kid really had. It's a lot.. too much really. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*And since my kid has sooo much junk... I might just have myself a little yard sale this weekend. Maybe... it's still supposed to be in the high 90's outside... and I really don't do outdoors unless it's at the beach... and I'd be doing it all alone.. so probably not.. but maybe.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">* I have every intention of doing some unnecessary shopping this weekend. Old Navy has their NFL stuff out now and we both need new team shirts (Go Cowboys!!!), and Michael's just sent me come coupons in my email so I'm sure I'll find a few things I need there. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*We have ZERO plans for Labor Day... but I'm thinking we'll either hit the L.A. County Fair... or hang out by the pool. Every intention of enjoying our last day of Summer. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*Drew lost one of his baby teeth on February 15th... and it still hasn't come in yet.. and there is no sign that his adult tooth has any intention of coming in any time soon. I think 7 months is WAY too long for a tooth to come in.. I think a trip to the dentist is in order. Oh, and the tooth next to it came out in April.. and hasn't come in yet either. My poor toothless baby.... he has another tooth loose right now and I told him there is no way I'm allowing another tooth to come out before those top two come in. (note to self: stock up on superglue!)</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-67530321480233127092011-08-25T10:24:00.000-07:002011-08-25T10:24:36.695-07:00He Isn't Even Slightly Phased By You<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Oh to be young again. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Carefree.. without a worry in the world.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Ok, wait.. he does have worries. He worries about when he will get to play the Wii next. He cares if we have dessert each night. And he definitely cares if he's getting shots at each of his doctor's visits.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">But my son... my gorgeous and intelligent little 7 year old.. doesn't care what people think. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">When I tell him to get his clothes ready for school, he simply grabs the 1st pair of shorts in the drawer without considering the color or pattern. Then he goes to the closet and grabs the 1st shirt he sees... not stopping to think if it will match his shorts or if it even still fits him any more. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">He doesn't care. Appearance means NOTHING to my son. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">He sees nothing wrong with giving the toys he no longer plays with to his friends for birthday gifts. He does not see the need for the toy to be in it's original package.. unopened.. un-enjoyed. NEW is not important to him... and he doesn't think it matters to other people. He would be excited to receive a game from his friend... not ever looking to see if it's ever been opened or where it came from.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">He knows that I buy clothes for him at the thrift store whenever I see something cute in his size. Clothes that have been previously worn by another child... clothes without their tags on them... and he doesn't care. The only thing he questions at theses times is why I keep buying him clothes that he doesn't need!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">My son is not phased by labels. He couldn't tell you who any of his shoes were made by. The only labels this kid cares about are Wii and Xbox.. his two best friends. (And I guarantee if there was a knock-off video game brand I would have bought that instead of the Wii.... and he wouldn't have cared one bit.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">My son cares about people's feelings... when it comes to them being sad or happy. He just doesn't care what they think about him. He's a kid.. of course he wants to be liked by the other kids on the playground... but he's not on a mission to impress anyone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">He's a practical and resourceful little man. He will think of a way to re-purpose ANYTHING I want to throw away. He could live on mac & cheese and chicken nuggets daily, and thinks I'm wasting money buying anything else. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">The world hasn't corrupted my baby yet. He hasn't been impacted negatively by TV advertising and celebrities. Greed hasn't taken over his pretty little mind.. yet. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">I am realistic and know the day will probably come. The day when he HAS to have the latest Nikes... or HAS to buy his friend the new video game for his birthday.... The day might come.... and he might start to CARE...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">But until then, I will enjoy his innocence and lack of concern. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">And I will wish that I was more like him...... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-540726207276593992011-08-19T10:22:00.000-07:002011-08-19T10:25:59.954-07:00Vegas With My Baby<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">After very little discussion, Drew decided we'd be going back to Las Vegas for our vacation this year. This makes 3 years in a row.... The only other place he even considered was Miami... to see a Dolphins game. And since I knew there was no way I'd be able to save up $3,000 in a few months, we settled on Vegas. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXakMjh1FzO7cii9f4zwjgUnf-bFNUnGw-pkWCK5IbLnNwjTQPmtWgodV2lLAruy5fiUoJXa1H-VLnItBj6DGIuM6QT4fqtdUGVmBevvn092Y_t7BTJuW4wjtf1iVOt88e7HONbbevpMpL/s1600/DSCN5095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXakMjh1FzO7cii9f4zwjgUnf-bFNUnGw-pkWCK5IbLnNwjTQPmtWgodV2lLAruy5fiUoJXa1H-VLnItBj6DGIuM6QT4fqtdUGVmBevvn092Y_t7BTJuW4wjtf1iVOt88e7HONbbevpMpL/s320/DSCN5095.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">** Don't mind my horrible pictures, we are in desperate need of a new camera**</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">First off, Vegas is HOT.. ridiculously HOT. at 8:30 in the morning it was already 99 degrees... YUCK. We stayed at the Monte Carlo again because we LOVE their pools. The wave pool, lazy river, and regular pool. Drew would have gladly stayed out at the pool all day, every day... but even for this Summer-lovin' Mamma, it was just too stinking hot. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFL962TF5WV_QpPWQmAMZT7lBn4FvyF13ZnOR2pl_4jnd2ajR_k8bGQxhYRcIm5MOJipKqQJ7WrYeD4D3Jx0mFL46Y8V5EdOG-SfVNjfXdSukGyqgohuNLkM-4b7KH2jVdHcX8UNRdsBJK/s1600/DSCN5097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFL962TF5WV_QpPWQmAMZT7lBn4FvyF13ZnOR2pl_4jnd2ajR_k8bGQxhYRcIm5MOJipKqQJ7WrYeD4D3Jx0mFL46Y8V5EdOG-SfVNjfXdSukGyqgohuNLkM-4b7KH2jVdHcX8UNRdsBJK/s320/DSCN5097.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">We pretty much spent our mornings at the pool, afternoons napping in our room, and nights on the strip. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3TfCoV3ryS1Frk-ogHcancB_Q_6Wqg9Sa8tndHFTFVzNmjazpeH36aYx4Bfgoh2z1XbGeQsBba95NG2aKfMsLCOllWYuzLoPVtF9vsEdgLgc4hLmSKcTkCFNyll9yD15_ufMEeC8zr9O/s1600/Vegas1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3TfCoV3ryS1Frk-ogHcancB_Q_6Wqg9Sa8tndHFTFVzNmjazpeH36aYx4Bfgoh2z1XbGeQsBba95NG2aKfMsLCOllWYuzLoPVtF9vsEdgLgc4hLmSKcTkCFNyll9yD15_ufMEeC8zr9O/s320/Vegas1.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Our lives really aren't all that hectic and crazy... but we both really needed this vacation. 3 days away from everyone we know.. no work.. no school.. no computers, video games or phones (except one call from his Dad). We just needed a break. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">On our last night there we went to see The Tournament of Kings at Excalibur. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGR-B66FWYl1cRdjdNQ65qGwgGEsMr5jWAr1clWD8W55hhrLAeucRC9BagjQ8I_mN12-Kc6JOs_Aw7AgOr0X3FCTd3HSLURq7fXxXuboJqeQ7jKifyzjlo_XkO5AU2kM9Cxl8Ob29jR4Fd/s1600/Vegas5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGR-B66FWYl1cRdjdNQ65qGwgGEsMr5jWAr1clWD8W55hhrLAeucRC9BagjQ8I_mN12-Kc6JOs_Aw7AgOr0X3FCTd3HSLURq7fXxXuboJqeQ7jKifyzjlo_XkO5AU2kM9Cxl8Ob29jR4Fd/s320/Vegas5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">I was kind of hesitant to take him since it was completely new to him (and he HATES new things), and they warn of smoke, fire and loud noises (all 3 things that he HATES)... but I've always wanted to go, so we gave it a shot. He was pretty reluctant... but once he accepted that I was making him go anyway, he was fine. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xiNYJL6aX33XTA4moQ9_Uv8fuHZrLFVjN17LgYN-XEysE-ekCYHKqTqcNwybkssqZNbk3-7u1V-pK8Gdw0vSBqP_MnmQ0DEiva2F7L1FZW8omPJzPFXQ_FUXG9-M4JYoNXuHLf-ChyOi/s1600/Vegas4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xiNYJL6aX33XTA4moQ9_Uv8fuHZrLFVjN17LgYN-XEysE-ekCYHKqTqcNwybkssqZNbk3-7u1V-pK8Gdw0vSBqP_MnmQ0DEiva2F7L1FZW8omPJzPFXQ_FUXG9-M4JYoNXuHLf-ChyOi/s320/Vegas4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">And I'm SOOOO glad we went because he LOVED it!! All he's wanted to do the last few days is have sword fights and joust in the living room. There were moments (fireworks and cannons) that freaked him out, but he handled it really well. And the food... oh I was nervous about that too. This kid is a super picky eater.. and the idea of him eating without utensils was kind of funky to me... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWV9DxE9YWJLzkTLZLzCW2l4Vip2yhR3XFcYh56h1uUIROLql_VA_vvx5byZ_9lAJDSe-mXpyyeQxQCewk6WCIGGE0JGAeyDlGcV_LURYtrUbR5Z4hIVPb18z0fAkv1Gm3xeafSoByUX0j/s1600/IMAG0524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWV9DxE9YWJLzkTLZLzCW2l4Vip2yhR3XFcYh56h1uUIROLql_VA_vvx5byZ_9lAJDSe-mXpyyeQxQCewk6WCIGGE0JGAeyDlGcV_LURYtrUbR5Z4hIVPb18z0fAkv1Gm3xeafSoByUX0j/s320/IMAG0524.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">But once again, Drew surprised me. He loves "Chicken on a bone" (drumsticks) so he was excited to rip them off the chicken and gobble them up. Of course the brocoli was never touched.. but that was to be expected. It was really a great night there. We loved the show, the food was great and we had a blast.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEZ_JMvu4xJoe8wEPdIvrTB8rPUnruhy69gRyg1J1K3WivUT_q9q1Ds4jOa0O3gVBgQjRe534Ku4hPC3qWLOuIiYceMHx0ebvVuz2F13qNeSkfOTGy_S55012Hs5nEUywsXmh0Jk7mQK9/s1600/DSCN5108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEZ_JMvu4xJoe8wEPdIvrTB8rPUnruhy69gRyg1J1K3WivUT_q9q1Ds4jOa0O3gVBgQjRe534Ku4hPC3qWLOuIiYceMHx0ebvVuz2F13qNeSkfOTGy_S55012Hs5nEUywsXmh0Jk7mQK9/s320/DSCN5108.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">On our last day there Drew asked if we could go to the Wax Museum. There weren't that many "people" he recognized.. but he enjoyed seeing the ones we did. And since we were the 2nd ones to enter that morning, we pretty much had the place to our selves... and were out in less than 20 minutes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipu1aj86QXqDnQI3ZwLkIPMui5JvpcAkQeJl6iuV3q-e_YQxSAvCr8xusphFgQck5Z9SpiwrqflsL-IUqhQsfBulIInqObFpUf4GU4kAEr56C7uwd-LTs94poiTErDJHUNdtvdaK6J7qsk/s1600/DSCN5119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipu1aj86QXqDnQI3ZwLkIPMui5JvpcAkQeJl6iuV3q-e_YQxSAvCr8xusphFgQck5Z9SpiwrqflsL-IUqhQsfBulIInqObFpUf4GU4kAEr56C7uwd-LTs94poiTErDJHUNdtvdaK6J7qsk/s320/DSCN5119.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Pe7CFFbgVpt2U-KN-M93WxrZ6LIu2DOsGrzRL6XxridpJY4nQb7bk01_3e38VdkkwqCuVAPJvDfsRmhdByoQWwBEpTxJf3aT8wb3XNcQTckOAD6ajpD6d3TNjmp5G8HL1TV7E7bQzYIp/s1600/DSCN5121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Pe7CFFbgVpt2U-KN-M93WxrZ6LIu2DOsGrzRL6XxridpJY4nQb7bk01_3e38VdkkwqCuVAPJvDfsRmhdByoQWwBEpTxJf3aT8wb3XNcQTckOAD6ajpD6d3TNjmp5G8HL1TV7E7bQzYIp/s320/DSCN5121.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIMU6NPk6ywAImnVvay0b7p_QdT0V-4b2Xz-66DSzi2fSqfJYRy0iTMNiEstwxpZ7MrS7td0AG-0B6TRFgn0wsDZeYWqA15rlX_sCpDxBJJg8fXPvVodwZ5M3TTvl4s7ytfO-BbwYS6_3/s1600/DSCN5112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIMU6NPk6ywAImnVvay0b7p_QdT0V-4b2Xz-66DSzi2fSqfJYRy0iTMNiEstwxpZ7MrS7td0AG-0B6TRFgn0wsDZeYWqA15rlX_sCpDxBJJg8fXPvVodwZ5M3TTvl4s7ytfO-BbwYS6_3/s320/DSCN5112.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Of course Michael Jackson was his favorite... but he was a little nervous to stand next to him.. Some of those statues look so real it's creepy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">All in all it was a good little vacation for us. But once we got home we both agreed that we'd had about enough time alone together... so he went to school the next day to play for a couple hours while I ran some errands.. alone. Guess some times you can have too much of a good thing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></div><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br />
</span></blockquote>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-9379204111932968142011-07-28T10:37:00.000-07:002011-07-28T10:37:06.678-07:00School Shopping Jealousy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Growing up, I LOVED back to school shopping. (</b>I was a kid and Mom was buying me stuff.. of course I loved it!!<b>)</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>I remember the lists of school supplies. Stuff my sister and I would NEED for class. (</b>Besides pencils and paper, most of that stuff was never NEEDED... just sayin'<b>)</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>I remember all the new clothes I planned on getting.... until Mom brought me back into reality by informing me we were only buying clothes I NEEDED... not a single thing just because it was cute... ok, this part I didn't love so much.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>When my son started Kindergarten 3 years ago, I was super excited about school shopping. I was looking forward to the list of classroom "necessities" and putting together endless adorable outfits for my little man. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>At Kindergarten registration I was told that there wasn't a "school supplies list". I was told that the school didn't expect the children to bring a single thing to class...... I believe the look I gave the secretary was one of utter SHOCK. What the heck was this lady talking about? Kids need stuff for class... at least some freaking pencils or something?? She told me I could check with the teacher at orientation day, but she doubted I'd get a different answer. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>At orientation I was again disappointed. The teacher didn't want them to bring anything... NOTHING. At this point I was strongly doubting whether I was sending my kid to the right school. What kind of place was this? His teacher explained that all supplies were already provided and they didn't want to put the burden on the parents. Ok, now that was pretty nice of them.... however, I was looking forward to the burden.. I WANTED that burden. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>So I did what any other sane mother does.... I ignored them completely and bought my son every school supply that walmart offered. He was loaded up with a backpack, binder, folders, paper and a full pencil box. My son was prepared for any scholastic emergency that should arise. And of course he was decked out in an awesome new wardrobe. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>By the second week of school I realized I had just wasted money... a lot of money. Not a single item in his backpack had been touched. The only time he even opened the thing was to take out his lunch. And the clothes... oh those adorable clothes... were a disaster. Kindergarten boys get DIRTY... very easily. Why they even make white shoes and white shirts in toddler sizes is beyond me. Every single day this kid came home with a new grass, mud or ketchup stain. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The next year he went back to that school for first grade. I had officially learned my lesson... well, pretty much. He got a new lunch box and backpack... but that was about it. He was getting new clothes only to replace things he'd outgrown.. and this year we were shopping at the thrift store. I was still bummed about missing out on the whole back to school shopping experience... but at least I wasn't going broke. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Last year my little man switched school to a private school in our area. I thought FOR SURE I'd be getting a supplies list this time. Nope... instead I was given a bill for "Materials Fee"..... a $310 bill..... Now can someone please tell me what in the world my second grader would possibly need $310 worth of supplies for? Were they going to give him a new backpack, binder, lunchbox and calculator? Nope. By this time I had given up. I accepted the fact that Back to School no longer meant the greatest shopping trip ever like it used to... </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Yet for some reason I still can't stop going down the school supply isle at every single Target and Walmart I walk into. My son has zero desire for any school stuff. I asked him to pick out a new backpack and he says "why</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>?, the one I have is fine"... I try to convince him he needs a new lunch box, and his response, "Mom, we already have 4 at home." Who's kid is this????? He certainly didn't get his shopping instincts from his mother... And don't even get me started on his clothes. This kid couldn't care less about what he wears. Doesn't care if it matches or even fits him!! He could probably keep all the clothes he has for the next 2 years without asking for a single thing.... except a new Miami Dolphins jersey.. necessities. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>So while everyone else is complaining about the ridiculous supplies lists they're required to shop for... and all the new clothes their kids need after growing 3 inches over the summer... This mom is completely jealous.. and will just have to learn to start shopping for herself =)</b></span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-75125124989071625082011-07-18T08:14:00.000-07:002011-07-18T08:14:18.186-07:00Living By The Clock<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not really sure when or how it started. I swear I don't remember always being this way. Maybe it happened when I became a mom... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am EXTREMELY conscious of time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All day.. every day... I have to know what time it is at every moment. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are certain things in my life that are planned for specific times of the day. Actually, 90% of my day is scheduled. I know exactly what I'll be doing at 6:45 am on the weekdays. I have to leave the house at a specific time every day. The entire drive to work is spent glancing at the clock, and figuring out how many minutes until I get there, and approximately what time I will arrive. Crazy!!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Breakfast, lunch and dinner are at the same time EVERY day. At 11:20 am, I am sitting at my desk figuring out what I need to get done in the next 40 minutes because everything stops at 12:00 for lunch. There isn't a strict rule in the office about lunch time.. but for some reason there's a strict rule in MY head. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I must glance at the clock about 100 times a day. Checking the time is absolutely the thing I do the most with my phone. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Routine and schedule are now HUGE necessities in my life. I will seriously stress out if we are not home by 5:00pm so that dinner can by ready by 5:30. Bed time is at 8:00pm on the dot. Maybe even a few minutes early, just so I can be sure we're in there at 8:00. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've realized lately that this is a problem. Not everything needs to revolve around the clock. What is it possibly going to hurt if we eat at 5:45 instead of 5:30? Is the world going to end if I don't wake Drew up exactly at 6:10 every morning? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I stress out about any time conflict and it affects my son. He sees me stressed so he stresses... and he's the one that has to hear me complain or make him rush if we're even running 2 minutes late for the time I have planned to leave for the grocery store. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It's ridiculous!! I recognize this as a problem... and now I need to find a way to change it. I do realize the importance of structure, routines and schedule for a child.. and even for a family... but that should only apply to the big stuff... like getting to school and work on time. </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-52635548824514891122011-06-21T08:32:00.000-07:002011-06-21T08:32:38.667-07:00No Summer For Us<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">I absolutely LOVE that it is now officially summer... at least according to the calendar. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">The temperatures have FINALLY risen around here, and we're expecting a high of 93 degrees today.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">But there is still no summer for our household. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">School is still in session. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">I still work 40 hours a week... 5 days a week. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">And truth is, this is the way it'll be until Little Man graduates high school. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Because I work full time and we have no nearby family members to care for Drew, he goes to a year round private school. He's there 5 days a week, 52 weeks a year... unless we're sick or have a random vacation day. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Right now his school is "off track" which means there's no actual school work going on for the next 2 weeks. But their still open all day and the kids are kept busy with structured learning activities. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Technically their school year doesn't even END until August 12th (at which point he'll have 3 weeks off track before the next school year begins).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Because I was raised having a traditional summer (for the most part), this is a little tough for me. I feel awful that my kid is stuck at school all day while other kids are at the beach or even at home playing video games. He doesn't get a long break... ever. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">We're planning a little vacation for 3 days in August... but that's about all he gets. I have more vacation time available through work, but I like to keep some of it for the inevitable sick days or personal emergencies that are bound to occur. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">It's times like this that I really wish I could change things. I wish so badly that I didn't have to work full time and that I was available more to be a MOM... so that Drew could have more free time to be a KID.</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-59707942646938088562011-06-12T18:30:00.000-07:002011-06-12T18:30:50.605-07:00Why I Love My Job<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-40 hours a week I have an obligation and responsibility.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I absolutely dread a ringing phone from 7:30 - 4:00 five days a week.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I'm expected to be somewhere at 7:30am.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-My paycheck is never large enough.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-When it's nice and sunny outside, I'm stuck inside where I can't even open a window to get fresh air.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I get bored VERY quickly at work.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I do not enjoy the daily tasks of my job.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Worrying about what to bring for lunch each day, or if I have enough money to buy lunch, is exhausting.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These things actually suck... but despite all of it, here are the reasons I LOVE my job:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I have never missed a single practice or game of my son's, no matter what sport he's played.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I am able to take my son to every doctors appointment... scheduled or not.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Every other week there is a decent enough amount of money directly deposited into my bank account.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I can bring my son to work with me if necessary.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I have a great benefits package that allows me to stress less about health and dental issues, money for my future, and vacation, sick and personal time that I can take whenever I want to.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I work with 9 men... and no women (no drama).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-Making it to parent-teacher conferences, awards assemblies, and Christmas performances on time is never an issue. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-During my interview for this job I made it a point to explain that my son is my priority and the only reason I wanted this job was for the paycheck... and they hired me anyway... and because of that (they said it showed I had a reason to be there everyday).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I get to spend my day watching movies, reading books and shopping online since there's no actual "work" to be done.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I can afford to put my son in private school, chess lessons and any sport his heart desires.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I am home every night in time to have dinner with my son, do his homework with him, play endless rounds of Boogle, and tuck him into bed (next to me).... EVERY night.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I certainly do not enjoy the daily tasks of my job... but I am beyond thankful for the mother that my job allows me to be. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some people go to school for years... spend endless time studying.. to pursue a career that fulfills them, a career where they can use their talents and spend their days doing what they love. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am so lucky and thankful to have a job that allows me to be Drew's Mom. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-85371029424259589132011-06-10T09:52:00.000-07:002011-06-10T09:52:46.538-07:00Another Year Older<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I thought I'd have issues with turning 29.. turns out I don't. Maybe I'll really feel old at 30. Sure hope not. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Yesterday was my birthday.. and in true ME style, we hit the beach. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">At first I refused to go. The temperature was only supposed to be 66 degrees.. and I had no desire to freeze on the beach. I hate being cold. But since my family had already scheduled their whole day around it, I gave in and we went. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tVExrHJWJYeUgZ8ZbBKBEhR6QwzA2zpLLrbvGVR6GuVK_FUa6L1agKYNPvZeqoJrHlKsF1x0Z87DPSQe07zzxj27WyZsmp_-7vVv0TX0bgZXLO5izSwFEd7Dip0gXtC-2oLUdNPaaNcu/s1600/DSCN4997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tVExrHJWJYeUgZ8ZbBKBEhR6QwzA2zpLLrbvGVR6GuVK_FUa6L1agKYNPvZeqoJrHlKsF1x0Z87DPSQe07zzxj27WyZsmp_-7vVv0TX0bgZXLO5izSwFEd7Dip0gXtC-2oLUdNPaaNcu/s320/DSCN4997.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">It was kind of cold in the morning, but it warmed up nice enough that we really enjoyed our day. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgl8gJL_aNDpkCAYPJdl3NfhYPv6iZuEgiiIc5AM2m7RZcEcmbVgEIKO_3wehyInEB9w2SX__VDA83lOOm0AibImuqgl9KkwNhpskVW-x7dYHSMhRnlOGxFUX5_6X03gn3gSqhuF_k5l1/s1600/DSCN5005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgl8gJL_aNDpkCAYPJdl3NfhYPv6iZuEgiiIc5AM2m7RZcEcmbVgEIKO_3wehyInEB9w2SX__VDA83lOOm0AibImuqgl9KkwNhpskVW-x7dYHSMhRnlOGxFUX5_6X03gn3gSqhuF_k5l1/s320/DSCN5005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Drew had a great time playing with his cousins. Usually it's just Drew and I, so any time he can play with the boys he's in heaven. I can't believe these crazy boys actually went into the freezing water.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-th9FszQ4wxrgFi78fltdxvbM21yOrQXz5-fA6MxYdrnCFg7GTMvYOy22PrrKNqtccvdu60DfUZHo2HBhNmmllydfTr0k8SVR0nJEnp-PYH-ttYNkLnHNoGbD7pGf9YP-luE7cwtwcHu6/s1600/DSCN5010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-th9FszQ4wxrgFi78fltdxvbM21yOrQXz5-fA6MxYdrnCFg7GTMvYOy22PrrKNqtccvdu60DfUZHo2HBhNmmllydfTr0k8SVR0nJEnp-PYH-ttYNkLnHNoGbD7pGf9YP-luE7cwtwcHu6/s320/DSCN5010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My mom has made me the same birthday cake for as long as I can remember... Strawberry cake, Cool-Whip frosting, and fresh strawberries... and this year she even brought it to the beach for me. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51dGWMgtQ1UWDrU2ZU_YGe4QaBn96XJO8DkYn9_7N0TUuWlqPKNLUKp87iUjK02NY9ybqN8bFcWwpuAmCmTDe2qdNKBaPxu3nsum1DZcgiQzPFYsh2nI22hYVN9_FyVp9RwfSP-gAj8VU/s1600/DSCN5012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51dGWMgtQ1UWDrU2ZU_YGe4QaBn96XJO8DkYn9_7N0TUuWlqPKNLUKp87iUjK02NY9ybqN8bFcWwpuAmCmTDe2qdNKBaPxu3nsum1DZcgiQzPFYsh2nI22hYVN9_FyVp9RwfSP-gAj8VU/s320/DSCN5012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">It was too windy for candles... but I loved having my favorite people and my favorite cake all at my favorite place.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDzJMUa3YmuR7UwygC2lSYmOY0gH5DAnBYed_n_TbOAB0fvqT0JtwbT6qo1YncjuKYC6pB_gCzNzVdz7kf6UT5gIvYpOj_UMxk7-Z71WlBP6Gf_6hkNLqaQ8ZhmFBbGSm5q_83TSaTCWb/s1600/DSCN5022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDzJMUa3YmuR7UwygC2lSYmOY0gH5DAnBYed_n_TbOAB0fvqT0JtwbT6qo1YncjuKYC6pB_gCzNzVdz7kf6UT5gIvYpOj_UMxk7-Z71WlBP6Gf_6hkNLqaQ8ZhmFBbGSm5q_83TSaTCWb/s320/DSCN5022.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">As always, my favorite part of any day... especially my birthday.. is being with my baby boy, and seeing him smile. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So here's to the last year of my 20's.... let's hope it's a great one!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-32360973808284135082011-06-03T10:42:00.000-07:002011-06-03T10:42:57.246-07:00Dear Mother Nature<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear Mother Nature,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am aware that it is still "technically" Spring. However, I am also aware that in Southern California, Spring is usually over in April. A typical So Cal Summer starts in May (with a few random spring-ish days scattered in).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate to be a complainer.... but this year our weather SUCKS. I am a Summer person. I NEED temperatures in the 80's (at least). There's a reason I have sworn to never move from Southern California. If I wanted cool weather, I'd live elsewhere.. not sure where.. but some cool place. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We've had about 4 days in 2011 that may classify as "hot"... other than that, it's been freakin' cold here. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For example, this is the weather prediction for the BEACH for the next 5 days. </span><br />
<br />
<table style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #ebf3fe; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-collapse: collapse; border-top-color: rgb(79, 131, 206); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: inherit; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><th style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 71px;">TODAY</th><th style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 72px;">TOMORROW</th><th style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 71px;">SUN</th><th style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 71px;">MON</th><th style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 72px;">TUE</th><th class="nobg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #5f90d9; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/nws/weather/frcstbg_day.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 100% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-left-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(91, 141, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: white; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; width: 72px;">6-10 DAY</th></tr>
<tr class="fiveday-icons"><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;"><img alt="" id="wiff" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/spacer.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/wicons.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -2074px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 34px; width: 61px;" /><br />
Mostly Sunny</td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;"><img alt="" id="wiff" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/spacer.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/wicons.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -1830px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 34px; width: 61px;" /><br />
AM Clouds/PM Sun</td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;"><img alt="" id="wiff" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/spacer.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/wicons.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -2074px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 34px; width: 61px;" /><br />
Mostly Sunny</td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;"><img alt="" id="wiff" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/spacer.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/wicons.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -1830px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 34px; width: 61px;" /><br />
Partly Cloudy</td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;"><img alt="" id="wiff" src="http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/spacer.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/lib/ywc/img/wicons.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: -1952px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 34px; width: 61px;" /><br />
Sunny</td><td class="extended" rowspan="2" style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: middle;"><a href="http://global.ard.yahoo.com/SIG=15l82tcoc/M=385205.13531647.13598144.1666089/D=wt/S=20078731:WTHE/Y=YAHOO/EXP=1307129342/L=A3YyGWKJhs69aXjKS8YkQArQQ2fw4k3pGd4AAnOL/B=gfRODkoGYrw-/J=1307122142362189/K=v_9jr6MlOv87NtJ_Ya3uAA/A=3802593/R=0/SIG=15eu7vefk/*http://yahoo.weather.com/weather/extended/USCA0764?par=yahoo&site=www.yahoo.com&promo=extendedforecast&cm_ven=Yahoo&cm_cat=www.yahoo.com&cm_pla=forecastpage&cm_ite=CityPage" style="color: #01329b; font-size: 11px; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">Extended Forecast</a></td></tr>
<tr class="fiveday-temps"><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;">High: 69°<div style="font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;">Low: 55°</div></td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;">High: 68°<div style="font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;">Low: 55°</div></td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;">High: 67°<div style="font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;">Low: 56°</div></td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;">High: 64°<div style="font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;">Low: 55°</div></td><td style="border-left-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(194, 218, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;">High: 65°<div style="font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;">Low: 57</div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's JUNE.. and I know Summer doesn't officially start for another 18 days, but COME ON.. you're killing me here. This girl needs sunshine.. with HEAT. It's very hard to tan when it's freezing out there. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, and one last thing.... my birthday is next week and I have every intention of spending the day on the beach.... so if you could PLEASE, pretty please, bring the temps up ASAP, I'd really appreciate it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Freezing in So Cal</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-40596042367527517452011-05-26T11:52:00.000-07:002011-05-26T11:52:44.789-07:00Dream Big Baby<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day on the way to school, Drew noticed a restaurant with a 'For Sale' sign. He screamed "Mom, go back! There's a restaurant for sale!!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This kid is DYING to have his own restaurant. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it literally melted my heart to hear his excitement about this building for sale.... because that excitement means he really and truly believes it's THAT simple.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have mom stop the car, go into the building, hand over that magic plastic card she hides in her wallet, and TA DA... He becomes a 7 year old restaurant owner. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh my baby, I sure wish it was that easy. If I could make it happen.. just like that.. I'd do it in a heart beat. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We continued our ride to school and I explained to him a few of the reasons why it's just not possible RIGHT NOW. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> -Mom is poor. Sorry.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> -I don't think 7 meets the legal working age requirement in California.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> -School. Running a business would take A LOT of work... and I need him focused on school for the next 10 years at least. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But one day.... Someday... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if I have any suggestion at all towards his future establishments location... I suggest the beach... </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-27935154136536360512011-05-25T13:55:00.000-07:002011-05-25T13:55:04.418-07:00Emotional Control Freak<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being a single parent means you're pretty much in full control all the time. I am the decision maker for EVERYTHING in my house (Drew would probably disagree, but then again.. he's 7). I make all decisions concerning myself and my son. I control who comes and goes... what is worn and when it's worn.. I control the temperature of the house and the contents of the refrigerator.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am in control. Like it or not, this is just the way it is (and for the record.. I LOVE it this way).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was reminded today that there is one area of my life where I lack control. Not completely... but in a small way and on occasion.. I lack control of my emotions. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For at least the past 6 months I have received a phone call every Wednesday afternoon. This person is calling in hopes that I have left work early and can see him for a bit before he picks up his son. For the last 6 months, my answer has always been no (not because I didn't want to, but because I'm not taking time off work for anyone other than Drew.. Ever). But he still calls. Week after week... consistently... Like clock work. I look forward to these calls.. with pure anticipation. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today he called. I said no, as always.. we talked for a couple minutes and that was it. When I hung up I was smiling. Glad to have received the call. Glad that after 13 years he still "get's to me". Glad that today he thought of me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I kind of got to thinking.. I started wondering"what if" and "why not"... I miss him. He makes me smile. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then he called back about 5 minutes later. He wanted to buy me something (very very inexpensive ($1) and random..) and was calling to see if it was something WE would use. WE.. Drew and I. It wasn't, but I thanked him and said it's the thought that counts. When I hung up I almost cried. It was the weirdest thing... crying over a purchase that didn't even happen.. Crying because he was thinking of US.. Drew and I. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then 2 minutes later I was irritated. Not with him, but with myself. I HATE getting emotional about ANYTHING (other than Drew). I hate that I let anyone have that type of effect on me. I like being in control. I like predictability in my life and structure. Random moments of emotion (not related to Drew) just have no place in my life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to gain control back. I need to remain focused on Drew.. and OUR life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last time I lost emotional control like this was 3 months ago when WE took OUR son to the hospital. . . . He still gets to me... </span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-58373402733086085662011-05-20T10:10:00.000-07:002011-05-20T10:13:12.624-07:00Doggy Dad<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Drew refers to the dogs as his "sons" or his "boys".</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">He says he's their dad and I'm their mom... but some times he tells me I'm their grandma. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">I like to remind him that one dog is his, one is mine, and the other is OURS. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">The first chihuahua we got was because he wanted one. So Brady, our tan itty bitty, is all his (except he LOVES to cuddle with Mama).</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhikj0W0T2IUVzh1BYPMkUjmjR7pvvVvGHLJatu9heTeKBU7zPPYzHxE50lsVhjomNAngk1s3im9Nu1DM30ExBgqn1TMi11MBoMUx3yNhyphenhyphensiFOW-tT_Go0nxDVFIeK_6N75Kj7n2U36ic/s1600/DSCN4701+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhikj0W0T2IUVzh1BYPMkUjmjR7pvvVvGHLJatu9heTeKBU7zPPYzHxE50lsVhjomNAngk1s3im9Nu1DM30ExBgqn1TMi11MBoMUx3yNhyphenhyphensiFOW-tT_Go0nxDVFIeK_6N75Kj7n2U36ic/s320/DSCN4701+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Then there's my Franklin Joseph Jackson III (or Frankie J.. for short). I found him outside my office one day and fell in love. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFBuAGeD2hDN0-vERePJn-TdGf0TalwO9DdtP4kGDzrl_1PTgKhpnNmak7CnJFnLNXWFhBiHB3JUrbVOrUZldrbQFM2f6Ssr5xPF2QDT9Ff1J8mnfdKgk2R4jALlHxRD3Kp-o6NLww2OF/s1600/DSCN4703+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFBuAGeD2hDN0-vERePJn-TdGf0TalwO9DdtP4kGDzrl_1PTgKhpnNmak7CnJFnLNXWFhBiHB3JUrbVOrUZldrbQFM2f6Ssr5xPF2QDT9Ff1J8mnfdKgk2R4jALlHxRD3Kp-o6NLww2OF/s320/DSCN4703+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">And a few months ago we acquired Rocky (AKA Monster Dog) from an animal shelter. Rocky is OUR dog and is in need of constant attention.....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dzRZhiGuRnjv_X2nbpfXK2IecPkUvkqfGv3D0AjUYRt22pJHRdrE74ydxU0llcfeKV_mPTPPzJOTgytApgjPwf6zv03xkP9PzO4NGSjDzBv_o2R59F5TJxIZmO9sVjkzyXswJZdyXcLd/s1600/DSCN4726+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dzRZhiGuRnjv_X2nbpfXK2IecPkUvkqfGv3D0AjUYRt22pJHRdrE74ydxU0llcfeKV_mPTPPzJOTgytApgjPwf6zv03xkP9PzO4NGSjDzBv_o2R59F5TJxIZmO9sVjkzyXswJZdyXcLd/s320/DSCN4726+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Drew does great with "his boys" and takes very good care of them. Feeding them is completely his responsibility (unless he's at his dad's) and he rarely has to be reminded to do it. The first thing he does when he gets home from school (or anywhere) is let the dogs in the house. He really does love his "sons".</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Last night Drew noticed that Frankie was only walking on 3 legs, and kept one of the back ones lifted. Drew came right in the kitchen and demanded that we take Frankie to the vet NOW. I told Drew he probably just hurt it while playing with the other dogs, and went to take a look at it. Frankie let me touch his leg, foot and hip and never made a sound or tried to move a way. I told Drew he'd be fine, we'd just make sure he took it easy for the night. Mr. Stubborn Doggy Daddy was not satisfied with my diagnoses. He said Tylenol was in order at least for the pain, but not the yucky cherry flavor (the kid does have standards). I agreed he was probably right and gave Frankie some doggy pain reliever (it's red, and I'm pretty sure I smelled cherry....). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">But Drew was still not happy..... shocker, I know.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">So he went to his room and got HIS blanket. His baby blanket... that he NEVER shares with anyone (or any dog). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj5sku7GAp2G97V6pirEhyphenhyphenT1sqglc6dw9V-2gCW8Jm376jcsMmyOupVj2-zWT6C-pxVeK61HWs4UXwMVeeaHCD96Vuw3lvyIslYxahuwyhgabciyYop1b9XBGH9SZr3GXUeGoZyWDerRij/s1600/DSCN4960+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj5sku7GAp2G97V6pirEhyphenhyphenT1sqglc6dw9V-2gCW8Jm376jcsMmyOupVj2-zWT6C-pxVeK61HWs4UXwMVeeaHCD96Vuw3lvyIslYxahuwyhgabciyYop1b9XBGH9SZr3GXUeGoZyWDerRij/s320/DSCN4960+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEpi_smwR7p9gD278Jt1EflEZRKJLdHDkfqHf8Iyp6xK9ks4Wb2cg9zDKnz454iqxb6TmW-1FuqOD35mX5EmXMrAYQ9jPQXVgUnB7Z1khFAupQbd5tDJndbbt-Fj1-WOLMbqfayzemeRs/s1600/DSCN4961+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEpi_smwR7p9gD278Jt1EflEZRKJLdHDkfqHf8Iyp6xK9ks4Wb2cg9zDKnz454iqxb6TmW-1FuqOD35mX5EmXMrAYQ9jPQXVgUnB7Z1khFAupQbd5tDJndbbt-Fj1-WOLMbqfayzemeRs/s320/DSCN4961+%2528640x480%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">It appears my son has inherited his mother's over-protectiveness. He took great care of Frankie last night, even making him sleep in HIS bed with him all night. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">I am happy to report that Frankie survived the night and was running around with the other two monsters on all 4 legs this morning. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br />
</span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1424260296523995223.post-55180244459806641172011-05-11T10:42:00.000-07:002011-05-11T10:42:40.668-07:00Who Needs Sleep Anyway?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>When my son was born, MY bed became OUR bed. This was completely my choice and I've LOVED having him there. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>When we got dogs, OUR bed became THEIR bed. They're chihuahuas and I felt they were too little to be outside at night. (I know, they're dogs.. but they're itty bitty dogs...) Besides, how much more space could they really take up on our king sized bed?</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>When we got <i>another</i> dog... he joined in on the co-sleeping / family bed thing too. He's not a chihuahua.. but he's not a german shepard either. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>So for the past 7 and a half years I've been sharing my bed. With a growing boy (ok, barely growing.. but still), and three little dogs. But lately (honestly it's probably forever... ) I just haven't been sleeping right. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The kid is a wiggle worm. He kicks and moves and flips and ends up it the weirdest positions that look so uncomfortable. This in itself wasn't a huge problem, annoying, but tolerable. It's his tiny size 12 feet that end up in my face that drive me insane! It is beyond impossible to sleep while being kicked in the face.. sorry kid, I tried.. but I'm over it!</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Then there's the issue of the newest dog. Rocky is a little wild. When it's time for bed, he is the first to jump up there.. but the LAST to settle down. And he is a licker.. oh this dog and his tongue!! Then there's the fact that when he does finally settle down, he chooses to sleep ON my feet. As if that's even remotely comfortable for ME.. and heaven forbid I have the desire to switch positions while I sleep. And Rocky likes to get down from the bed and roam around the house in the middle of night. This wakes me up because his little nails are so loud on the wood floors.. and I have to jump up and try to stop him before he goes marking his territory all over the place. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Last week I started by finally putting the dogs outside to sleep. It's been warmer, and they do have a dog house so it's really no big deal. Except my itty bittys now hate me. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Then I decided it was time to get Mini-Me out of there. This kid is sworn against sleeping in his room for ANY reason. He's done it.. about 5 times in 7 years.. but it has been done. I admit he's gotten better about fighting me on this... but he's not going to go down easily. Last night's attempt at stalling was a good one. He says "Mom, every time I blink my stomach hurts." I couldn't help but laugh a little. Seriously kid?? Nice try... I said "So stop blinking. CLOSE your eyes completely and your stomach will be fine." *One point for Mom. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>So the dogs were outside.. and Drew was in his OWN bed.... </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>And I only got up 4 times through out the night to check on them. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">How does that saying go?... "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">I'll sleep when I'm dead</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">"</span></b></span>Drew's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04166006190674234784noreply@blogger.com2