Howdy, all!
One of my close friends just found out that her youngest son has autsim. I wish you all could meet him--he's an adorable, snuggly bundle of smiling energy. He's a really, really great kid, autistic or not, and I love the hell out of him.
I've registered to join this family in the Autism Speaks walk tomorrow, and I know this is SUPER last-minute, but if anyone out there can afford to donate to the cause--even a little bit!--I'd sure appreciate it. We can't fix Autism right now, but maybe someday if we throw enough money at it, the brilliant minds working to make things better for these kids will find a way.
If you've got a spare dime kicking around (and believe me, if you don't, I COMPLETELY understand), would you mind sending it my way? You can get to my donation page by clicking here.
I promise not to use my blog to solicit funds from y'all anymore. Unless it's for something really, REALLY important. ;)
Friday, May 29, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
UnSUITable for Public Consumption
Our pool is open! Hooray! Yahoo! Hallelujah!
Although, this brings up a rather cumbersome problem that I shouldn't really bitch about, because it's not so much a problem as it is a fantastic thing.
None of my swimsuits fit. They're all too big.
Now if you're a woman reading this, you get why that's a double edged sword. Because first there's "YAY FOR WEIGHT LOSS!" and then it's followed by "Oh, no. You have to shop for swimsuits. You poor kid" and some sorrowful head shaking.
Yes. I have to shop for a new swimsuit. Cue the mood lighting and funeral dirge, please.
Someday I will embrace this task. I will be as comfy with my body as this woman here, hovering breast implants and all. But, I'll have the self respect not to bust out the micro-bikini if my figure does not bless such a garment.
There's confidence, and then there's self respect. May you be blessed with both, dear readers.
Although, this brings up a rather cumbersome problem that I shouldn't really bitch about, because it's not so much a problem as it is a fantastic thing.
None of my swimsuits fit. They're all too big.
Now if you're a woman reading this, you get why that's a double edged sword. Because first there's "YAY FOR WEIGHT LOSS!" and then it's followed by "Oh, no. You have to shop for swimsuits. You poor kid" and some sorrowful head shaking.
Yes. I have to shop for a new swimsuit. Cue the mood lighting and funeral dirge, please.
Someday I will embrace this task. I will be as comfy with my body as this woman here, hovering breast implants and all. But, I'll have the self respect not to bust out the micro-bikini if my figure does not bless such a garment.
There's confidence, and then there's self respect. May you be blessed with both, dear readers.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Lost and Found
Where do lost things go?
Really, our house is not so big. It's not like finding something would take a search party or require instructions such as "Go past the East Wing..." or anything of that nature. It's less than 1000 square feet. There's just not a lot of areas to cover, or places to actually misplace things.
So why does Barbie Mariposa have no wings? Why does our magnetic steak for the toy kitchen only have two of the three pieces? Where, for the love of all that's holy, did the fabric for the awning over the toy grill part of the kitchen go?
And why can't I ever find my cell phone without having to have Eric call it?
OK, so the cell phone is carelessness on my part, because I am very unconcerned about where it ends up. I kind of resent my cell phone, it feels like a leash. Well. Until I want it, and then it seems like the best invention in the entire world. But when I don't WANT to be found, it makes me mad. I'm contrary like that. I'm contrary in a lot of ways, and I don't intend on changing that. Embrace it, it's part of my charm.
So, I can explain the cell phone loss (and usually it's found in my pocket, on the floor of my bedroom.), and there are other things that I've lost as a result of carelessness (friendship! More on that in a bit), but what the hell happened to Barbie's wings and the missing bit o' wooden steak? If we ever move out of this place, we're in for the motherlode of lost things hiding behind...SOMETHING. Obviously, if I knew what they were behind, they would not be lost. I can't even really verify that they ARE behind something, but that's my guess. Or else we seriously need to get our ventilation system blown out. I'm almost positive that's where we'd find all of the lost doll shoes.
**********
Other things lost: Eric's job. He got laid off yesterday (Monday). I freaked out at first, but here's one thing everyone should know about Eric: he's chronically employable. Sure enough, by the time he got home from work with his meager box o' office crap, he'd already set up an interview for next Thursday.
That's my boy!
He's got severance pay through the end of July, and we can keep our insurance and dental through then, too. At least this way we're going to get to take advantage of that whole frickin' COBRA discount nonsense.
(Yet another inconsistency. I hate the idea of these "bailouts", but am I going to take the moral high ground and pay full price for COBRA? Hell no, I'm not! I may be opinionated, but I'm also dirt-poor broke. And cheap.)
**********
Speaking of Eric getting laid off--Charley is eight months old!
OK, if you didn't see that connection, I can't blame you. Charley was born the week Eric started this job. And she turned 8 months old the day he lost it.
I know. Sketchy connection. It worked for me, though.
**********
I don't only lose things, you know. Recently I've been finding/reconnecting with a lot of old friends on Facebook. I think almost everyone I went to High School with is there. OK, not that many, just the people I hung out with, I suppose. But, hey, those are the only ones who matter, right? Just the cool kids.
Anyway! One of the people I've reconnected with is someone I'd "lost" through my own carelessness. We'll go ahead and call this friend "Claudia", since that's her name. ;) (Sorry, sugarplum. You should know now that everybody in my life is blog fodder. I'd like to say I won't write about you any more if you're offended, but I think we both know I'd be lying.) She was one of my closest friends through High School--so was Carmen, her sister. I was partners with Carmen in Duet Acting for Forensics and every Saturday during my Senior year, Carmen got to smack me in the face at least three times, more if we made finals. I also remember a very LONG evening spent writing Original Oratory entries. And Carmen writing on her face the night before a tournament. And a speech about why I believe Elvis isn't dead that went MUCH farther than I expected it to.
That's not the point of this story, though. The point is, I did a mean thing and ditched Claudia over hurt feelings on my part. I shouldn't have done that. It was a childish thing to do, and I spent about seven years missing her because of it, and feeling embarassed and moronic because I should have just apologized once I realized I was being an idiot (like, um, a day after I did it) instead of sticking with stupid pride and stubbornness.
That's a note, kids. Don't take indefenisble stands and stick with them come hell or high water. Be intropsective enough to know when you're doing it and grownup enough to admit when you're being a douchebag. If only men would heed this advice, we'd all be better off.
But, I found her again on Facebook, and we had dinner and drinks last week! And it was awesome and fun and I laughed so much my sides hurt. She has an adorable little girl, who I got to meet, and we have all sorts of fun plans for this summer. Both with the kids and without!
I have to admit, it took me months to message her when I first saw her on Facebook. Months. I have that whole Facebook Conversation Insecurity Complex thing going on. Also, I was convinced I'd send her a message and she'd be all "Yeah, whatever! Get bent, jackass!" and I'd be like "Yeah, I deserved that." and be all sad and stuff. And then I'd have ANOTHER boring, sad post in my blog about how nobody likes me, everybody hates me, and how I might consider dining on earthworms for dinner that evening.
But she didn't. And if I'm honest about it, I knew she wouldn't. She's not like that. She never has been! I was clearly projecting my behaviors onto her (because that's another thing about me. I hold grudges. I'm mean like that.).
See how adult I am?
When did that happen?
I'm blaming the kids. Because I also caught myself asking Peyton today if I needed to seperate her and Charlotte or if she was going to stop touching her sister. That's a little TOO adult for comfort.
Wait, tangent. Sorry.
ANYWAY! Claudia, I'm so glad you're more gracious and forgiving than I am. I missed you! I love that even after seven years, we could just sit down and talk like we'd never had any time between us. I'm excited for our summer playdates, and Peyt is so excited to meet you, she can't hardly stand it.
Yay!
Really, our house is not so big. It's not like finding something would take a search party or require instructions such as "Go past the East Wing..." or anything of that nature. It's less than 1000 square feet. There's just not a lot of areas to cover, or places to actually misplace things.
So why does Barbie Mariposa have no wings? Why does our magnetic steak for the toy kitchen only have two of the three pieces? Where, for the love of all that's holy, did the fabric for the awning over the toy grill part of the kitchen go?
And why can't I ever find my cell phone without having to have Eric call it?
OK, so the cell phone is carelessness on my part, because I am very unconcerned about where it ends up. I kind of resent my cell phone, it feels like a leash. Well. Until I want it, and then it seems like the best invention in the entire world. But when I don't WANT to be found, it makes me mad. I'm contrary like that. I'm contrary in a lot of ways, and I don't intend on changing that. Embrace it, it's part of my charm.
So, I can explain the cell phone loss (and usually it's found in my pocket, on the floor of my bedroom.), and there are other things that I've lost as a result of carelessness (friendship! More on that in a bit), but what the hell happened to Barbie's wings and the missing bit o' wooden steak? If we ever move out of this place, we're in for the motherlode of lost things hiding behind...SOMETHING. Obviously, if I knew what they were behind, they would not be lost. I can't even really verify that they ARE behind something, but that's my guess. Or else we seriously need to get our ventilation system blown out. I'm almost positive that's where we'd find all of the lost doll shoes.
**********
Other things lost: Eric's job. He got laid off yesterday (Monday). I freaked out at first, but here's one thing everyone should know about Eric: he's chronically employable. Sure enough, by the time he got home from work with his meager box o' office crap, he'd already set up an interview for next Thursday.
That's my boy!
He's got severance pay through the end of July, and we can keep our insurance and dental through then, too. At least this way we're going to get to take advantage of that whole frickin' COBRA discount nonsense.
(Yet another inconsistency. I hate the idea of these "bailouts", but am I going to take the moral high ground and pay full price for COBRA? Hell no, I'm not! I may be opinionated, but I'm also dirt-poor broke. And cheap.)
**********
Speaking of Eric getting laid off--Charley is eight months old!
OK, if you didn't see that connection, I can't blame you. Charley was born the week Eric started this job. And she turned 8 months old the day he lost it.
I know. Sketchy connection. It worked for me, though.
**********
I don't only lose things, you know. Recently I've been finding/reconnecting with a lot of old friends on Facebook. I think almost everyone I went to High School with is there. OK, not that many, just the people I hung out with, I suppose. But, hey, those are the only ones who matter, right? Just the cool kids.
Anyway! One of the people I've reconnected with is someone I'd "lost" through my own carelessness. We'll go ahead and call this friend "Claudia", since that's her name. ;) (Sorry, sugarplum. You should know now that everybody in my life is blog fodder. I'd like to say I won't write about you any more if you're offended, but I think we both know I'd be lying.) She was one of my closest friends through High School--so was Carmen, her sister. I was partners with Carmen in Duet Acting for Forensics and every Saturday during my Senior year, Carmen got to smack me in the face at least three times, more if we made finals. I also remember a very LONG evening spent writing Original Oratory entries. And Carmen writing on her face the night before a tournament. And a speech about why I believe Elvis isn't dead that went MUCH farther than I expected it to.
That's not the point of this story, though. The point is, I did a mean thing and ditched Claudia over hurt feelings on my part. I shouldn't have done that. It was a childish thing to do, and I spent about seven years missing her because of it, and feeling embarassed and moronic because I should have just apologized once I realized I was being an idiot (like, um, a day after I did it) instead of sticking with stupid pride and stubbornness.
That's a note, kids. Don't take indefenisble stands and stick with them come hell or high water. Be intropsective enough to know when you're doing it and grownup enough to admit when you're being a douchebag. If only men would heed this advice, we'd all be better off.
But, I found her again on Facebook, and we had dinner and drinks last week! And it was awesome and fun and I laughed so much my sides hurt. She has an adorable little girl, who I got to meet, and we have all sorts of fun plans for this summer. Both with the kids and without!
I have to admit, it took me months to message her when I first saw her on Facebook. Months. I have that whole Facebook Conversation Insecurity Complex thing going on. Also, I was convinced I'd send her a message and she'd be all "Yeah, whatever! Get bent, jackass!" and I'd be like "Yeah, I deserved that." and be all sad and stuff. And then I'd have ANOTHER boring, sad post in my blog about how nobody likes me, everybody hates me, and how I might consider dining on earthworms for dinner that evening.
But she didn't. And if I'm honest about it, I knew she wouldn't. She's not like that. She never has been! I was clearly projecting my behaviors onto her (because that's another thing about me. I hold grudges. I'm mean like that.).
See how adult I am?
When did that happen?
I'm blaming the kids. Because I also caught myself asking Peyton today if I needed to seperate her and Charlotte or if she was going to stop touching her sister. That's a little TOO adult for comfort.
Wait, tangent. Sorry.
ANYWAY! Claudia, I'm so glad you're more gracious and forgiving than I am. I missed you! I love that even after seven years, we could just sit down and talk like we'd never had any time between us. I'm excited for our summer playdates, and Peyt is so excited to meet you, she can't hardly stand it.
Yay!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The more things change...
Well, things have not substantially changed in our house. Yesterday was "Let's All Hate Amber Day". Both Eric and Peyton were pissed at me, which was OK for a little bit, because they weren't pissy with each other. That's generally how things work, they sit around striking sparks off of eachother and I get to be the good guy and step in and make them play nice.
But yesterday everyone was mad at me. Except Charlotte. She's almost universally on my side. She just doesn't know any better.
The mood swings are killing me. I feel like I have to walk on eggshells around him, but I can't ever predict what's going to be his trigger, so I end up stepping in a giant pile of angry when I least expect it. Like when we're buckling Peyt into her booster seat and he thinks I'm twisting the seatbelt. Or when he can't find the broadband modem and thinks I hid the entire internet.
But between those two things, there will be calm and sometimes even happy--or it might just be fake happy. I'm not sure yet. I can't read him well enough to know what the next half-hour might bring. Hell, I can't read him well enough to know what the next 10 minutes will bring.
He worked from home for the past two days and that never helps anything. He needs to go in to work. For both our sakes. Although, he didn't pay the cell bill and now we don't have cell phones until after payday, so he'll have to work from work--no land line or cell phone means no conference call capability!
I shouldn't be happy about that, but he's at work right now, and things are SO peaceful and nice. Peyton is calmer and happier--she's smiling a lot today. Charlotte is less whiney....I can only assume that some of that is due to the fact that I'm not nearly as tense as I have been, and I know kids can pick up on tension.
I still don't know what to do. This is getting bad, and neither of us are happy. We got that one month of happiness, I guess, and that's all. I wrote him an e-mail yesterday (and have gotten no response) and left the ball in his court. So far, these problems are largely related to his health and circumstances, so it's up to him. I'm not saying I'm innocent of any wrongdoing here, because I could just stop fighting back, but that's not me, and that's not going to happen. I think he's pinning all of his hopes on diabetes medication as a cure-all and I'm just not sure that's realistic. There's something else going on, and I don't know if he sees that, or is even willing to contemplate it.
So, I'm back to where I was at my last post about this. Is this how we spend the rest of our lives? Is this the message we leave our girls about marriage? What do I do now?
But yesterday everyone was mad at me. Except Charlotte. She's almost universally on my side. She just doesn't know any better.
The mood swings are killing me. I feel like I have to walk on eggshells around him, but I can't ever predict what's going to be his trigger, so I end up stepping in a giant pile of angry when I least expect it. Like when we're buckling Peyt into her booster seat and he thinks I'm twisting the seatbelt. Or when he can't find the broadband modem and thinks I hid the entire internet.
But between those two things, there will be calm and sometimes even happy--or it might just be fake happy. I'm not sure yet. I can't read him well enough to know what the next half-hour might bring. Hell, I can't read him well enough to know what the next 10 minutes will bring.
He worked from home for the past two days and that never helps anything. He needs to go in to work. For both our sakes. Although, he didn't pay the cell bill and now we don't have cell phones until after payday, so he'll have to work from work--no land line or cell phone means no conference call capability!
I shouldn't be happy about that, but he's at work right now, and things are SO peaceful and nice. Peyton is calmer and happier--she's smiling a lot today. Charlotte is less whiney....I can only assume that some of that is due to the fact that I'm not nearly as tense as I have been, and I know kids can pick up on tension.
I still don't know what to do. This is getting bad, and neither of us are happy. We got that one month of happiness, I guess, and that's all. I wrote him an e-mail yesterday (and have gotten no response) and left the ball in his court. So far, these problems are largely related to his health and circumstances, so it's up to him. I'm not saying I'm innocent of any wrongdoing here, because I could just stop fighting back, but that's not me, and that's not going to happen. I think he's pinning all of his hopes on diabetes medication as a cure-all and I'm just not sure that's realistic. There's something else going on, and I don't know if he sees that, or is even willing to contemplate it.
So, I'm back to where I was at my last post about this. Is this how we spend the rest of our lives? Is this the message we leave our girls about marriage? What do I do now?
Saturday, May 09, 2009
AWOL
Blogged at Blog on Smog today, come check it out and leave comments! It's in no way controversial, so that's nice. ;)
(I'll be back with a post about my last post and the things that happened after that later. I don't have the energy right now, sadly. I have a lot of Mother's Day crafting to do. Oh, the life of a procrastinator.)
(I'll be back with a post about my last post and the things that happened after that later. I don't have the energy right now, sadly. I have a lot of Mother's Day crafting to do. Oh, the life of a procrastinator.)
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Structural Integrity
Well, our April was nice, so there's that. We're only three days into May, and I have serious doubts that my marriage will survive until June.
I've never actually thought things between Eric and I would really end. I thought we had what it takes to tough things out and muscle through the tough times. I'm not sure anymore. I'm sure I can keep doing this if I want to, but I'm not sure I should. Is there really any merit in sticking through an untenable situation just for the sake of saying you stuck through it?
It's like, we've been through a lot of shit together and we've always put the pieces back in place, taped them down and moved on. But every time it happens, the pieces get smaller and smaller, and we start losing a few. We lost hugs and kisses a while back, then cuddles. We lost affectionate touches and saying "I love you" every day. Most of the structure is still intact, but there are small divots, and the beautiful surface is marred with scratches, dents and scars.
And what's underneath that surface might not have the structural integrity it needs to stand the test of time.
I want him to be happy. I love him very much. But there are things that I can't live with anymore and he doesn't seem to see those things the way I do. There is something wrong in a marriage when one partner cries on the bed in the middle of a heated discussion and the other falls asleep while she sobs. There's something wrong here.
I can't hold on to someone and swim for shore if he doesn't want saving, but I can't sit aside and watch him drown. For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do. He needs help. This is beyond untreated diabetes (which we're sure he has). I understand that high blood sugar causes fatigue--I've been there myself, but this is different. Even people with chronic fatigue issues can get up and go to work. It takes more effort, but they do it. And also? They ask for help. I am struggling with high blood sugars, myself, but I still get out of bed and take care of the girls. Eric is not capable of that. On Sunday, he slept the entire day and only saw Peyton because she really wanted him to be around--so she kept trying to wake him up. He did not see Charlotte at all on Sunday.
I don't know how to handle that. I know I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, but there's more going on here. This looks, smells, and feels like depression, but he says that only people with "character flaws" require anti-depressant medication. He won't even begin to consider that he might need to talk to someone and figure things out.
I feel like I'm losing my husband. Piece by piece, he's slipping away and all that's left is this apathetic pile of mood swing that is difficult to be around. We never know if he's going to be Happy Eric or Mad Eric at any given moment, and we also never know if today's going to be a day he gets out of bed or if we're on our own because he's checked out again. He's alternately wonderful to be around, constantly pissed off, or so cold and detached that it makes me cry.
I thought we had something that worked--we tried something "different" in April, and he seemed genuinely happy for most of the time. And then the mood slipped again, and we're back to Frosty the Eric.
I don't want to leave him. I love him. I want to be old and gray-haired in rocking chairs on a nursing home porch with him someday. I want him around forever and ever. But more than that, I want him happy. It's time to consider that I might not be someone who can make him happy. That makes me want to curl up in the corner with a carton of ice cream and eat myself into a diabetic coma.
I'm not going to do that. Just thinking about this being over hurts a lot. It makes me sadder than I might possibly have ever been.
As much as I want to help him and fix everything so we can go back to being happy, I can't. I don't know how or what to do. I'm going to run away to my Mom's for the week, I guess. I don't know what else to do, because I can't look at him without crying.
I've never actually thought things between Eric and I would really end. I thought we had what it takes to tough things out and muscle through the tough times. I'm not sure anymore. I'm sure I can keep doing this if I want to, but I'm not sure I should. Is there really any merit in sticking through an untenable situation just for the sake of saying you stuck through it?
It's like, we've been through a lot of shit together and we've always put the pieces back in place, taped them down and moved on. But every time it happens, the pieces get smaller and smaller, and we start losing a few. We lost hugs and kisses a while back, then cuddles. We lost affectionate touches and saying "I love you" every day. Most of the structure is still intact, but there are small divots, and the beautiful surface is marred with scratches, dents and scars.
And what's underneath that surface might not have the structural integrity it needs to stand the test of time.
I want him to be happy. I love him very much. But there are things that I can't live with anymore and he doesn't seem to see those things the way I do. There is something wrong in a marriage when one partner cries on the bed in the middle of a heated discussion and the other falls asleep while she sobs. There's something wrong here.
I can't hold on to someone and swim for shore if he doesn't want saving, but I can't sit aside and watch him drown. For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do. He needs help. This is beyond untreated diabetes (which we're sure he has). I understand that high blood sugar causes fatigue--I've been there myself, but this is different. Even people with chronic fatigue issues can get up and go to work. It takes more effort, but they do it. And also? They ask for help. I am struggling with high blood sugars, myself, but I still get out of bed and take care of the girls. Eric is not capable of that. On Sunday, he slept the entire day and only saw Peyton because she really wanted him to be around--so she kept trying to wake him up. He did not see Charlotte at all on Sunday.
I don't know how to handle that. I know I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, but there's more going on here. This looks, smells, and feels like depression, but he says that only people with "character flaws" require anti-depressant medication. He won't even begin to consider that he might need to talk to someone and figure things out.
I feel like I'm losing my husband. Piece by piece, he's slipping away and all that's left is this apathetic pile of mood swing that is difficult to be around. We never know if he's going to be Happy Eric or Mad Eric at any given moment, and we also never know if today's going to be a day he gets out of bed or if we're on our own because he's checked out again. He's alternately wonderful to be around, constantly pissed off, or so cold and detached that it makes me cry.
I thought we had something that worked--we tried something "different" in April, and he seemed genuinely happy for most of the time. And then the mood slipped again, and we're back to Frosty the Eric.
I don't want to leave him. I love him. I want to be old and gray-haired in rocking chairs on a nursing home porch with him someday. I want him around forever and ever. But more than that, I want him happy. It's time to consider that I might not be someone who can make him happy. That makes me want to curl up in the corner with a carton of ice cream and eat myself into a diabetic coma.
I'm not going to do that. Just thinking about this being over hurts a lot. It makes me sadder than I might possibly have ever been.
As much as I want to help him and fix everything so we can go back to being happy, I can't. I don't know how or what to do. I'm going to run away to my Mom's for the week, I guess. I don't know what else to do, because I can't look at him without crying.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Pick a Season, Already!
I have this problem with seasonal allergies. Well, I should say, I HAVE seasonal allergies, and I don't like them--hence, the problem.
Generally weather in Colorado is only predictable in that it's not. There's never been a meteorologist who got it right--they predict snow, we get 80 degrees. They predict heat wave, we get rain, followed by snow, followed by gloomy but no precip.
At any rate, it makes it rather difficult to determine on any given day if my head is going to feel like a lead weight or not. When you combine an unpredictable weather pattern with seasonal change, well, I've been feeling like I'm packed full of snot and my eyelids are made of sandpaper lately.
Poor Peyt has picked up my allergies, too--I'm hoping Chuck escapes them. We don't medicate for this, I'm kind of anti-overmedication and most allergy drugs leave you feeling shitty and then also tired. It seems largely ineffective. Oh, don't get me wrong, if Peyt were seriously blah and not feeling good at all, I'd medicate her. But she's not, she's just snotty and itchy and pissy. Like me.
Life in our household is going to be so much fun when all three of us girls get to menstruate all at the same time. I blame Eric--he's got the girl sperm. Everyone start praying for early menopause to hit me, or else in about 10 years, he's going to start to hate life in a serious and very real way. We might have to build a bomb shelter just so he has somewhere to go every month to avoid being killed by words and crusty looks alone.
At any rate, I am ready for there to be just one season. Like, the snow can stop now. But not if it means we have to endure 90 degree heat...in which case, let's keep the snow. Just pick something!
**********
So, we had a busy weekend, but welcomed a new person into our lives! My friend Jillian had a baby on Saturday morning at 3:something AM. His name is River Anderson, and he's just a tiny little guy--hardly bigger than Chuck was! Six pounds and almost one ounce, 19.5 inches tall. Welcome to the world, River, and Happy Birthday!
**********
I've had something on my mind here for a few days since I read a comment in my comments section from a post or two ago. I'm going to post it here, even though it's rather whiny and self-indulgent. You can tough it out and read this if you want, or you can consider this blog post over with and move on with your merry life. I'm about nothing if I'm not pro-internet choice. ;)
This is my blog. As it is my place to post whatever *I* want to post, people should expect to read this and occasionally (or frequently.) disagree with me. That's fine, I'm glad we're a world full of independent people who think independently. I'm glad we can all have our little blogs, wherein we are all Queens of our respective Castles.
I'm also glad to discuss things with people and entertain lively debates on my own time and when I am in a positive mindset to do so. There's a reason I did debate in college...I like to argue. But only when I'm in the mood and when I'm not feeling attacked. I don't enjoy being blindsided with debate, and when I'm pissy, you can expect I'll fire back in an unpleasant way. I know these things about myself, so maybe it's time that I introduce you to them as well.
I love that people post comments for me and about me, but is it too much to ask that people don't just wholesale start debates with me in my own blog? Also, could we maybe not just offer unrequested advice there, also? Is it too much to ask that this place be the one area that's all about adoring me and that only generates a constant love-fest for my abundant awesomeness and gigantic boobs? (The boobs thing was just to see if you're still paying attention. You can skip singing praises to my magnificent rack.)
And if that is too much to ask, can we at least not try to pass our opinions off as ultimate fact? Maybe allow for the concept that as much as you're entitled to disagree with me, I'm entitled to disagree with you and think that you're the most horribly misguided person in the universe? ;)
I'm phrasing this all as questions, because perhaps I am wrong and it's unreasonable to expect things to go how I want them to go in my blog. And if that's the case, then I apologize and heartily suggest everyone carry on with nary a glitch in the matrix. And it's also possible that I should just refrain from ever posting anything the slightest bit controversial and/or whiny and suggestive of a need for people to shower me with advice that I don't want and didn't ask for.
Or maybe it could just be that people could skip the comments and go bitch about me and what I've said in their blogs, where I have no right to post anything other than blanket adoration for another person's awesomeosity. Hey, turnabout's fair play, ain't it?
Generally weather in Colorado is only predictable in that it's not. There's never been a meteorologist who got it right--they predict snow, we get 80 degrees. They predict heat wave, we get rain, followed by snow, followed by gloomy but no precip.
At any rate, it makes it rather difficult to determine on any given day if my head is going to feel like a lead weight or not. When you combine an unpredictable weather pattern with seasonal change, well, I've been feeling like I'm packed full of snot and my eyelids are made of sandpaper lately.
Poor Peyt has picked up my allergies, too--I'm hoping Chuck escapes them. We don't medicate for this, I'm kind of anti-overmedication and most allergy drugs leave you feeling shitty and then also tired. It seems largely ineffective. Oh, don't get me wrong, if Peyt were seriously blah and not feeling good at all, I'd medicate her. But she's not, she's just snotty and itchy and pissy. Like me.
Life in our household is going to be so much fun when all three of us girls get to menstruate all at the same time. I blame Eric--he's got the girl sperm. Everyone start praying for early menopause to hit me, or else in about 10 years, he's going to start to hate life in a serious and very real way. We might have to build a bomb shelter just so he has somewhere to go every month to avoid being killed by words and crusty looks alone.
At any rate, I am ready for there to be just one season. Like, the snow can stop now. But not if it means we have to endure 90 degree heat...in which case, let's keep the snow. Just pick something!
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So, we had a busy weekend, but welcomed a new person into our lives! My friend Jillian had a baby on Saturday morning at 3:something AM. His name is River Anderson, and he's just a tiny little guy--hardly bigger than Chuck was! Six pounds and almost one ounce, 19.5 inches tall. Welcome to the world, River, and Happy Birthday!
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I've had something on my mind here for a few days since I read a comment in my comments section from a post or two ago. I'm going to post it here, even though it's rather whiny and self-indulgent. You can tough it out and read this if you want, or you can consider this blog post over with and move on with your merry life. I'm about nothing if I'm not pro-internet choice. ;)
This is my blog. As it is my place to post whatever *I* want to post, people should expect to read this and occasionally (or frequently.) disagree with me. That's fine, I'm glad we're a world full of independent people who think independently. I'm glad we can all have our little blogs, wherein we are all Queens of our respective Castles.
I'm also glad to discuss things with people and entertain lively debates on my own time and when I am in a positive mindset to do so. There's a reason I did debate in college...I like to argue. But only when I'm in the mood and when I'm not feeling attacked. I don't enjoy being blindsided with debate, and when I'm pissy, you can expect I'll fire back in an unpleasant way. I know these things about myself, so maybe it's time that I introduce you to them as well.
I love that people post comments for me and about me, but is it too much to ask that people don't just wholesale start debates with me in my own blog? Also, could we maybe not just offer unrequested advice there, also? Is it too much to ask that this place be the one area that's all about adoring me and that only generates a constant love-fest for my abundant awesomeness and gigantic boobs? (The boobs thing was just to see if you're still paying attention. You can skip singing praises to my magnificent rack.)
And if that is too much to ask, can we at least not try to pass our opinions off as ultimate fact? Maybe allow for the concept that as much as you're entitled to disagree with me, I'm entitled to disagree with you and think that you're the most horribly misguided person in the universe? ;)
I'm phrasing this all as questions, because perhaps I am wrong and it's unreasonable to expect things to go how I want them to go in my blog. And if that's the case, then I apologize and heartily suggest everyone carry on with nary a glitch in the matrix. And it's also possible that I should just refrain from ever posting anything the slightest bit controversial and/or whiny and suggestive of a need for people to shower me with advice that I don't want and didn't ask for.
Or maybe it could just be that people could skip the comments and go bitch about me and what I've said in their blogs, where I have no right to post anything other than blanket adoration for another person's awesomeosity. Hey, turnabout's fair play, ain't it?
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