Saturday, October 30, 2010
Shiny New Blog
Isn't it pretty?!?! I just have to thank my lovely lovely lovely friend Liz (@violetposy) for the time and effort she put into my site redesign. She made the whole process quick and easy and yummy (we met for coffee and cake to discuss what I wanted). So, thank you Liz! It looks wonderful!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
My Own Florence Nightingale
LaLa has become obsessed with the idea of becoming a nurse when she grows up. I think it is great that she would like to nurture people back to health and am fully behind her if this is what she decides to be when she grows up. However, I think she has a very...odd...a bit off...view of what nurses are. See, she has really never had very much interaction with nurses. She has always been very healthy and the only times she has really seen nurses are when they take her weight and temperature at the doctors office.
Recently, she did a report on Florence Nightingale. This is how she has formed her opinion of nurses. Now, she has pretty much turned her bedroom into a Crimean War field hospital. She has taken to wearing long dresses with shirts tied around the waist as an apron. Barbies are her patients. They are laid out on her bed, like a gigantic ward floor, side to side with blankets covering them up to their necks. I half expect to go into her room and find her doing amputations with Chloroform as the anaesthetic and giving Laudanum for pain.
Also, I am pretty sure she thinks she is British.
Recently, she did a report on Florence Nightingale. This is how she has formed her opinion of nurses. Now, she has pretty much turned her bedroom into a Crimean War field hospital. She has taken to wearing long dresses with shirts tied around the waist as an apron. Barbies are her patients. They are laid out on her bed, like a gigantic ward floor, side to side with blankets covering them up to their necks. I half expect to go into her room and find her doing amputations with Chloroform as the anaesthetic and giving Laudanum for pain.
Also, I am pretty sure she thinks she is British.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The Distance Between Us
Sometimes distance is a good thing. It can pad me from feeling the raw pain of family tragedies. I want to be there to help during the bad times, but the distance also acts as an emotional buffer. I can hear about everything, but not seeing it, well, it can make it easier. Sometimes I am grateful about the distance.
During the happy times however, distance is horrible. It is the gap that I can not overcome. It is seeing weddings of cousins through Facebook. It is learning about the birth of a new baby through an email. I want to be there. I want to dance at the wedding and hold that sweet baby. I can't. I will miss it all.
Technology may keep me connected to those I love, but it can never make up for being there.
During the happy times however, distance is horrible. It is the gap that I can not overcome. It is seeing weddings of cousins through Facebook. It is learning about the birth of a new baby through an email. I want to be there. I want to dance at the wedding and hold that sweet baby. I can't. I will miss it all.
Technology may keep me connected to those I love, but it can never make up for being there.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Just So You Know Those Adverts are Crap!
KiKi has had a cold for about three days now. She almost missed the last day of school before the half term break, but she was insistent that she needed to go to school so she could parade about in her leopard costume that her MiMi (my mom) sent her. She is a strong willed one, ya know.
The past two days she has just had this really violent cough that she just can't seem to shake. Despite the cough medicines I have given her orally, there is really no change. Mind you, it doesn't sound like it is deep in her chest, more at the back of her throat. It doesn't really bother her until bedtime and then it kicks in so bad that she can barely catch her breath. So, I decided to use what any good mom in the western hemisphere would use, good ol' Vicks Vapor Rub.
Let me for the record say that this ad is crap.
There is no gently smoothing the jelly-like substance across your child's chest. It is more like you have to hog tie or pin your child to the mattress and in the two seconds that your child's chest is actually exposed, rub on a bunch of menthol smelling goo. Meanwhile, they are screaming at the top of their lungs like they are being gutted (yes, really, that much fun).
I see no part in the ad that says I may or may not have to use rope in order to apply this product. However, I will concede defeat because, dammit, Vicks actually worked to stop her coughing.
The past two days she has just had this really violent cough that she just can't seem to shake. Despite the cough medicines I have given her orally, there is really no change. Mind you, it doesn't sound like it is deep in her chest, more at the back of her throat. It doesn't really bother her until bedtime and then it kicks in so bad that she can barely catch her breath. So, I decided to use what any good mom in the western hemisphere would use, good ol' Vicks Vapor Rub.
Let me for the record say that this ad is crap.
There is no gently smoothing the jelly-like substance across your child's chest. It is more like you have to hog tie or pin your child to the mattress and in the two seconds that your child's chest is actually exposed, rub on a bunch of menthol smelling goo. Meanwhile, they are screaming at the top of their lungs like they are being gutted (yes, really, that much fun).
I see no part in the ad that says I may or may not have to use rope in order to apply this product. However, I will concede defeat because, dammit, Vicks actually worked to stop her coughing.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
As Elton John sang, "The Circle of Life"
I think I am going to have to give POW Sam Kitty a new name as he is no longer a POW and hasn't been one for nearly 3 months. Yes, I have given up the good fight of keeping him indoors. Yes, I live on a main road and fear for his safety, but nearly being killed by tripping on him and figuring out how to block his escape each and every time I opened the front door was becoming a huge problem (read-pain in the ass). So I adopted the view of that Russian (Dolph Ludgren in real life for the record) from Rocky IV, that says "If he dies, he dies". In truth I really don't want him to die, not only cause he is a pretty awesome cat, but for goodness sake I flew him across an ocean and I have entirely too much money tied up in him now.
So, as I was saying, Sam Kitty is now free as a bird now. Also, eating birds...and mice. Actually, I don't think he eats them all since he has now brought me 3 mice and a bird as sacrifices. I tried to explain to him, as a household of Christians we don't require blood sacrifices, but you know how it is with cats, in one ear out the other. Instead he has continued to play Grim Reaper to the mouse and bird population. Then I took the approach of accepting that cats eat mice, even The Farmer in the Dell* says so (you didn't know that takes means eat, did you?). So with resignation I let him continue to play Jason Voorhees in my backyard.
That was until Sunday afternoon. The day that will live in infamy (other than when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, cause that was really bad too). He puked mouse guts up on my utility room carpet. Oh Lord in Heaven help me! It smelled really really bad and I had to clean it up. Needless to say I almost made a matching stain on the carpet. Now, I am dead set against him exercising the circle of life in my backyard. I however am not willing to confine him to the house.
Flash forward to Tuesday afternoon. I am minding my own business doing the dishes and peering outside the window in front of me to the backyard. I see Sam Kitty, bringer of death, outside acting suspicious. I say out loud to nobody in particular, "Oh no! What's he got now?!" and he freezes in his tracks like he has heard me. Then looks directly at me with a mouse hanging out of his mouth. I take off like a shot outside yelling "OH NO YOU DON'T!!" (I'll be dammed if I am having mouse guts on my carpet again!) chasing him. He runs like the damn wind and ducks under the fence. Blast! I'm foiled!!! Not to mention, I look like an idiot and am once again glad that I have no neighbors. The joke is on him however because it starts raining shortly after and I won't let him inside until I am sure that he won't puke on my carpet. HaHa! Take that Sam Kitty, Grim Reaper of Mice!
*Farmer in the Dell lyrics
So, as I was saying, Sam Kitty is now free as a bird now. Also, eating birds...and mice. Actually, I don't think he eats them all since he has now brought me 3 mice and a bird as sacrifices. I tried to explain to him, as a household of Christians we don't require blood sacrifices, but you know how it is with cats, in one ear out the other. Instead he has continued to play Grim Reaper to the mouse and bird population. Then I took the approach of accepting that cats eat mice, even The Farmer in the Dell* says so (you didn't know that takes means eat, did you?). So with resignation I let him continue to play Jason Voorhees in my backyard.
That was until Sunday afternoon. The day that will live in infamy (other than when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, cause that was really bad too). He puked mouse guts up on my utility room carpet. Oh Lord in Heaven help me! It smelled really really bad and I had to clean it up. Needless to say I almost made a matching stain on the carpet. Now, I am dead set against him exercising the circle of life in my backyard. I however am not willing to confine him to the house.
Flash forward to Tuesday afternoon. I am minding my own business doing the dishes and peering outside the window in front of me to the backyard. I see Sam Kitty, bringer of death, outside acting suspicious. I say out loud to nobody in particular, "Oh no! What's he got now?!" and he freezes in his tracks like he has heard me. Then looks directly at me with a mouse hanging out of his mouth. I take off like a shot outside yelling "OH NO YOU DON'T!!" (I'll be dammed if I am having mouse guts on my carpet again!) chasing him. He runs like the damn wind and ducks under the fence. Blast! I'm foiled!!! Not to mention, I look like an idiot and am once again glad that I have no neighbors. The joke is on him however because it starts raining shortly after and I won't let him inside until I am sure that he won't puke on my carpet. HaHa! Take that Sam Kitty, Grim Reaper of Mice!
*Farmer in the Dell lyrics
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Gone to the Dogs
Friday night we had a fund raiser for the primary school- at the dog track. Yes, you read that right. We took our kids to the local dog track and for £10 you got entry and dinner (fish and chips that was so lovely I wanted to kiss the girls who fried it). I can't even imagine this being a little bit acceptable in the US. Gambling and exposing children to gambling is highly frowned upon where I am from. There is just no way in the world that an elementary school would ever even dream to have a fundraiser at the dog track.
Guess what though? It was FUN- loads and barrels of fun. I personally didn't gamble because I have horrible luck and my Granny always taught me to never bet more than a nickle on anything. Others did gamble and the girls had fun cheering on their friends dogs. I had never been to a dog track before and found it very entertaining. I'm not sure what kind of atmosphere I was anticipating, but I found one where the owners of the dogs were very nice. You could tell that they really cared about their dogs (very unlike the sterotype that I had seen on the episode of "The Simpsons" where Homer and Bart adopt Santa's Little Helper). There were also posters about encouraging patrons of the track to adopt retiring greyhounds which I found very sweet.
We had a really good night and I would love to go back even if it wasn't for a school fund raiser. Also, we raised £230 to add to our fund to improve the school library. Not bad for a small village school with around 100 students!
Guess what though? It was FUN- loads and barrels of fun. I personally didn't gamble because I have horrible luck and my Granny always taught me to never bet more than a nickle on anything. Others did gamble and the girls had fun cheering on their friends dogs. I had never been to a dog track before and found it very entertaining. I'm not sure what kind of atmosphere I was anticipating, but I found one where the owners of the dogs were very nice. You could tell that they really cared about their dogs (very unlike the sterotype that I had seen on the episode of "The Simpsons" where Homer and Bart adopt Santa's Little Helper). There were also posters about encouraging patrons of the track to adopt retiring greyhounds which I found very sweet.
We had a really good night and I would love to go back even if it wasn't for a school fund raiser. Also, we raised £230 to add to our fund to improve the school library. Not bad for a small village school with around 100 students!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Lady Liberty
I was brought up to believe that everyone is equal. No man is better than any other. There is only those who try and those that do not. "You can be whatever you want to be!" That wasn't just lip service served up by my parents. I really believed it. I was brought up to believe that my country was great. My United States embraced all races, religions and creeds to build a better nation. My United States took the attributes of all her people (native and immigrant) and used them to make a better America. To me the poem at the bottom of the Statue of Liberty most closely represents my America.
The New Colossus
By Emma Lazarus, 1883
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
I have always loved this poem and now as I see my country fractured I can't help but wonder has the America in my head disappeared? What happened to the America that respected the immigrant? What happened to the America that wanted to embrace all and give everyone a shot at the American Dream. The America who with gall and enthusiasm said "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send THESE, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I life my lamp beside the golden door!" What makes the immigrants of today any less deserving of the immigrants that built the skyscrapers of New York or settled the farmlands of the Mid-west? Only one thing, time. Time for people to forget that America was built on the backs of immigrants. Maybe America just needs to remember that.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Gallery- Favorite Photo
When Tara asked us this week to post our favorite photo again for the contest version of The Gallery I was getting ready to repost the photo that I posted last time. It has now moved to second favorite because my husband by accident took the most splendid photo of LaLa while we were at Legoland in Windsor.
This is my new favorite photo. A fluke of a photo taken from a weird angle whilst holding the camera out and away from LaLa. The most perfect photo taken of LaLa ever.
Just remember, sometimes you have to take your hands off the lap bar and be a little scared to enjoy life to its fullest.
This is my new favorite photo. A fluke of a photo taken from a weird angle whilst holding the camera out and away from LaLa. The most perfect photo taken of LaLa ever.
Just remember, sometimes you have to take your hands off the lap bar and be a little scared to enjoy life to its fullest.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Umm...nooo...excuse me.
I was sitting at the table this morning after breakfast, well after the children ate their breakfast, drinking a Cherry Coke Zero (breakfast of champions) and I got this huge air bubble trapped in my tummy. You know what I am talking about. One of those air bubbles that is going to come out no matter what you do to stop it.
BURP!
"Dad, was that you?!!!" LaLa yelled from the living room.
"Ummm...no. Dad already went to bed. Excuse me."
"But Mom, (she actually said Mum but I still refuse to acknowledge that) only boys burp like that!"
------------------
In other news today the girls have to dress up as characters from their favorite books at school. KiKi is being Alice in Wonderland and LaLa is being Ariel from The Little Mermaid (cause I couldn't find any other costume without a stain on it).
After this picture of the girls was taken, LaLa went and nicked a sip of my Cherry Coke Zero (my precious) when she thought my back was turned. Cheeky monkey!
BURP!
"Dad, was that you?!!!" LaLa yelled from the living room.
"Ummm...no. Dad already went to bed. Excuse me."
"But Mom, (she actually said Mum but I still refuse to acknowledge that) only boys burp like that!"
------------------
In other news today the girls have to dress up as characters from their favorite books at school. KiKi is being Alice in Wonderland and LaLa is being Ariel from The Little Mermaid (cause I couldn't find any other costume without a stain on it).
After this picture of the girls was taken, LaLa went and nicked a sip of my Cherry Coke Zero (my precious) when she thought my back was turned. Cheeky monkey!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Conversation With LaLa
So LaLa and I are sitting at the table while she is doing her reading homework when she pipes up with, "So Chuck said that I need to decide if I want to marry him or Mark," and then kept doing her homework.
Me- "Well you need to tell Chuck that you are a free spirit who does not feel the need at this age to be tied down by the constraints of marriage"
LaLa- "What's a free spirit?"
Me- "A person who does what they like when they like"
La- "Oh"
Me (in my head)- so she wants to know what a free spirit is but has no questions about the word constraint.......
La- "I might want to marry Callum anyways"
Me- "It's good to keep your options open."
*All other kids names made up
Me- "Well you need to tell Chuck that you are a free spirit who does not feel the need at this age to be tied down by the constraints of marriage"
LaLa- "What's a free spirit?"
Me- "A person who does what they like when they like"
La- "Oh"
Me (in my head)- so she wants to know what a free spirit is but has no questions about the word constraint.......
La- "I might want to marry Callum anyways"
Me- "It's good to keep your options open."
*All other kids names made up
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
At Least It Wasn't the Kitchen Sink
Monday was a helluva Monday. A Monday of epic proportions. It started off with KiKi puking at school and a phone call home to me to come pick her up. Not a big deal, I am immune to being rattled by kid's puke (you get puked on a couple time when you are working in a nursery and it kinda loses it's gross factor). So I go to pick her up, letting the workmen who were replacing the gas pipe to my house know that I would be back in 10-15 minutes tops and that they could continue to work as long as they didn't have to go in my house. Sorted.
I arrived home, puking child in tow, made her a place to lay down on the couch and positioned a bathroom sized trash can (with liner) in front of her in case of anymore upchucking. The men who were working on the gas lines then came inside and turned my boiler off and began the other parts of whatever the hell they were doing out there. I wasn't really paying attention. About two hours later they came inside to turn the gas back on and relight the pilot light on the boiler. The boiler wouldn't relight. So they told me to call my landlady and LEFT. They left me with no heat and no hot water. Just great! I call my landlady, who is goes completely off the rails because she wasn't notified by the gas company that they would be doing any work (rightfully angry and thankfully not at me) and she promises me that she will get back to me.
By this point KiKi is writhing in pain and grasping her abdomen and screaming cause it hurts. Plus she had upchucked two more times. I decide that it is time to go to the ER. Who knows it could be appendicitis with our luck around here. So I start making phone calls to arrange somebody to pick up LaLa from school. Then I hear a knock on my door. It is the landlady and she is telling me what she is going to do about the heat* (besides getting someone out the next day to fix it) and she hears KiKi in the back so she lets me go quickly. I pack up KiKi and head to the base to spend 3 hours in the ER to be told she has a virus and trapped gas in her tummy.
So, I get home that night and I get a phone call from my landlady.
LL- Hey Kat, where is your gate?
Me- What gate?
LL- The gate that goes across your driveway"
Me- Ummm...(thinking it is a trick question)..on the fence?
LL- Ummm...noooo
Me- Huh?
LL- Well I will call my dad and my husband and see if they know where it is...
So, my gate that goes on the fence that surrounds my property is missing...
She called me back today.
LL- Well, my father and husband don't know where the gate is so I guess it has been stolen.
Yes, thieves came I assume in the middle of the night and STOLE my gate.
*My landlady decided that she is going to replace the whole heating system in my house within the next month or two.
I arrived home, puking child in tow, made her a place to lay down on the couch and positioned a bathroom sized trash can (with liner) in front of her in case of anymore upchucking. The men who were working on the gas lines then came inside and turned my boiler off and began the other parts of whatever the hell they were doing out there. I wasn't really paying attention. About two hours later they came inside to turn the gas back on and relight the pilot light on the boiler. The boiler wouldn't relight. So they told me to call my landlady and LEFT. They left me with no heat and no hot water. Just great! I call my landlady, who is goes completely off the rails because she wasn't notified by the gas company that they would be doing any work (rightfully angry and thankfully not at me) and she promises me that she will get back to me.
By this point KiKi is writhing in pain and grasping her abdomen and screaming cause it hurts. Plus she had upchucked two more times. I decide that it is time to go to the ER. Who knows it could be appendicitis with our luck around here. So I start making phone calls to arrange somebody to pick up LaLa from school. Then I hear a knock on my door. It is the landlady and she is telling me what she is going to do about the heat* (besides getting someone out the next day to fix it) and she hears KiKi in the back so she lets me go quickly. I pack up KiKi and head to the base to spend 3 hours in the ER to be told she has a virus and trapped gas in her tummy.
So, I get home that night and I get a phone call from my landlady.
LL- Hey Kat, where is your gate?
Me- What gate?
LL- The gate that goes across your driveway"
Me- Ummm...(thinking it is a trick question)..on the fence?
LL- Ummm...noooo
Me- Huh?
LL- Well I will call my dad and my husband and see if they know where it is...
So, my gate that goes on the fence that surrounds my property is missing...
LL- Well, my father and husband don't know where the gate is so I guess it has been stolen.
Yes, thieves came I assume in the middle of the night and STOLE my gate.
*My landlady decided that she is going to replace the whole heating system in my house within the next month or two.
Monday, October 4, 2010
No! Nooooo! Nooooooo!
I saw a horrid commercial on TV and I guarantee this toy is going to be the "IT" thing for all girly girls this Christmas season. It is the I Love (actually it has a heart where the word love is supposed to be) Glitter Barbie. Are you serious? Glitter? Glitter for the doll's hair? Glitter that must be fastened to the doll's hair by "gel"? I am not even exaggerating a little bit when I say I started babbling "no no no no no no no no no" at the television. And guess what? My girls haven't even seen the commercial yet! Nor to I intend on them ever seeing it. In the Bungalow from now until Christmas we are going to be TV free. Ok, not really. Crap. I swear, if any of you lot (that includes you, Mom) buy my daughters anything with glitter I will hunt you down. Capeesh? Beacause the only words scarier than an unexpected "babe, I'm pregnant," is "LOOK, MOM, IT'S GOT GLITTER!!!!"
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