We got our insurance for our house today-- now we can look at building. My husband has an appointment with the bank on Friday, which will probably result in yet another appointment with them, given how they do things. We don't come out ahead-- we get to (God willing) get a bigger loan and build a bigger home. My husband is pretty much doing this and he asks me to look like he is asking me-- but this is really his project and there is nothing that I can do about it. He is considering letting me have an area where I can have a livingroom that doubles for yoga, which is nice, but he can dream all he wants until I ask if we can do something and he gets irritated with me and says something like, "Tea, we are really pushing it financially!"
Disasters are not good for fragile situations. He has the loan.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Unfriending People on Facebook
Probably one of the oddest things I have had to do is unfriend people that I don't like. One of the events happened right before my house burned down. She was a lady from my church's sister church and she'd always been witty and funny so I had invited her to be my friend. What happened after that was a rediculous mess where I started hating FaceBook. Somehow, she turned every conversation in to something about her. At the age of 47, she thought she was still cute fir being under 4'10" and called herself "a real firecracker!" in a conversation that had nothing to do with her or her height. . . and managed to turn other conversations into all about her. I am old to say this, but I posted a status with something like, "OMFG! My laundry is done!" She asked what the F meant. . . since she is the daughter-in-law of a guy who is considered a great writer in our church, the comment was meant to be as catty and as passive aggressive as I took it. A comment on my page about my funny kids turned into her talking about her kids who are all a year ahead academically. (But are under psychological care for what I think is probably learned behavior from her." I unfriended her after just a few days because I started bracing myself for her to post.
A few days after my house fire, she, the co-owner of a business that is doing well, said that she wanted to help me out. I declined and declined and finally told her in a message, "I don't like you. You annoy me and you have made me hate Face Book with your comments. While I appreciate your offer to help me, my expression is not for sale."
Today, a friend that I had made a few months ago through another friend, a young man who lives overseas and who wants to study in the States, instant messaged me. He was asking me about social mores and customs and seemed to be dreaming about living in the States for a while and asked me a pretty detailed question about intimacies. I unfriended him, in spite of his apology. I wonder if he was just trying o figure out Americans, but he knows that I am twice his age (at least) and I was pretty offended. I realized thatI had know idea who he was and he had access to my life on my page.
I realized that I knew few on my page and it spooked me.
A few days after my house fire, she, the co-owner of a business that is doing well, said that she wanted to help me out. I declined and declined and finally told her in a message, "I don't like you. You annoy me and you have made me hate Face Book with your comments. While I appreciate your offer to help me, my expression is not for sale."
Today, a friend that I had made a few months ago through another friend, a young man who lives overseas and who wants to study in the States, instant messaged me. He was asking me about social mores and customs and seemed to be dreaming about living in the States for a while and asked me a pretty detailed question about intimacies. I unfriended him, in spite of his apology. I wonder if he was just trying o figure out Americans, but he knows that I am twice his age (at least) and I was pretty offended. I realized thatI had know idea who he was and he had access to my life on my page.
I realized that I knew few on my page and it spooked me.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Mommy to Martha Graham
I have a thing for covering my hair but I don't do it very often now. Starshine was trying to get me to put a napkin over my head when this photo was taken. She was telling me how pretty I'd look and I was giving her a giant smile and asking, "Prettier than this?"
Bunches of these were taken by Darrin and I drew some charactures of myself based on them, all with heavey eyelids and gargantuan teeth! I have some with a "sweenky eye"expression that are hilarious. I never saw myself as I do now!
The event was a dinner at their school. We had a dessert auction and all the kids served. Several of them, including Basil, got to practice their auctioneering skills which got better as the evening wore on. As much as I love my children, I stress out in the crowds. There is another dinner coming up that Bash volunteered me to cook at and told everyone how good I am at it. Go I shall, as long as I am not sitting in the midst of a couple hundred children and adults!
At one point I looked around to find Calamity Jane and then I saw her off in a corner with a friend. They were in yoga tree position and holding still. Later I asked her why they were doing it for so long and she explained, "We wanted to see who could hold the position longer and quieter." This morning, a Saturday, my kids were up at 6AM (they'd sleep till noon every school day) and I suggested that they try competitive yoga and Calamity Jane said, "These are the wrong people!" OK, combat yoga is out!
Monday, November 16, 2009
And. . . she's in!
Other than that the tester couldn't understand her, Starshine had taken over the test. After several silly questions that wouldn't stop, and a book that was many pages thick, my pre-school aged daughter took a deep breath, smiled and turned her book to the tester. "Show me orange!" she told her.
"Where is his elbow?"
The problem was. . . while I knew what she was saying, the Ph.D. with the speech degree was clueless, but very much amused. The purpose of my daughter being there was not to have her IQ tested, but to speak enough to be evaluated. They soon formed a detente where each one asked one and the test was soon over.
~~~
I am sad-- Starshine is going to pre-school soon. My last, 9 of 9, qualifies for special needs pre-school because of her speech. On one hand, I am thrilled because she has so badly been needing the interaction with other children, but on the other hand, I will miss her. We'd planned to send her to a yuppie-style children's play group once my other kids got settled, one that would do music or perhaps art. Thanks to the fire, we are having to take her to the public school, which is fine, but I'd wanted to indulge in this little treat for her, but really for my ego. You don't dream about having children and sending them to a public school special needs class. You imagine yourself going for lattes with other mommies for an hour or two while the children interact, then you imagine going back and hearing how well behaved your perfect child was.
Starshine won't care and this lasts longer and she will probably be more fun and I will have time to actually accomplish something creative with my 8-16 extra hours per week on my hands. Her school is close by and they have a huge playground.
As they grow older and move on, so must the mommies and daddies. With my eldest daughter, I was 25 when she was in kindergarten. I will be 42 when Starshine is in kindergarten. Children age their parents.
It's always nice to see the testers. I have known them for almost 12 years, they having met my eldest son when he was only a few months old. They said he had speech impairments and I was like, "You cannot tell this at 6 months!" As time went on, his problems became more pronounced. I got him help because I liked the teachers, but I really thought they were just looking for an easy case! (I was so delusional!) It was when Guy was 5 that his younger brother, Basil, showed up as average to advanced even in my eyes that it sunk in just how bad off Guy was. Guy is in junior high and still has delays.
They don't expect Starshine to have long lasting delays with her speech. The hope is to get her caught up by kindergarten, but sometimes they get worse as the kids develop. I will miss Starshine during the day when she is away at school, but I fully expect her to be herself and get into mischief when she is at home, just as her siblings manage to do! With her, I am happy for her to be going to pre-school, and I may go for lattes with the other moms, but I will laugh when I retrieve her and hear of how my littlest miscreant has pulled pranks and said goofy things and left people scratching their heads!
"Where is his elbow?"
The problem was. . . while I knew what she was saying, the Ph.D. with the speech degree was clueless, but very much amused. The purpose of my daughter being there was not to have her IQ tested, but to speak enough to be evaluated. They soon formed a detente where each one asked one and the test was soon over.
~~~
I am sad-- Starshine is going to pre-school soon. My last, 9 of 9, qualifies for special needs pre-school because of her speech. On one hand, I am thrilled because she has so badly been needing the interaction with other children, but on the other hand, I will miss her. We'd planned to send her to a yuppie-style children's play group once my other kids got settled, one that would do music or perhaps art. Thanks to the fire, we are having to take her to the public school, which is fine, but I'd wanted to indulge in this little treat for her, but really for my ego. You don't dream about having children and sending them to a public school special needs class. You imagine yourself going for lattes with other mommies for an hour or two while the children interact, then you imagine going back and hearing how well behaved your perfect child was.
Starshine won't care and this lasts longer and she will probably be more fun and I will have time to actually accomplish something creative with my 8-16 extra hours per week on my hands. Her school is close by and they have a huge playground.
As they grow older and move on, so must the mommies and daddies. With my eldest daughter, I was 25 when she was in kindergarten. I will be 42 when Starshine is in kindergarten. Children age their parents.
It's always nice to see the testers. I have known them for almost 12 years, they having met my eldest son when he was only a few months old. They said he had speech impairments and I was like, "You cannot tell this at 6 months!" As time went on, his problems became more pronounced. I got him help because I liked the teachers, but I really thought they were just looking for an easy case! (I was so delusional!) It was when Guy was 5 that his younger brother, Basil, showed up as average to advanced even in my eyes that it sunk in just how bad off Guy was. Guy is in junior high and still has delays.
They don't expect Starshine to have long lasting delays with her speech. The hope is to get her caught up by kindergarten, but sometimes they get worse as the kids develop. I will miss Starshine during the day when she is away at school, but I fully expect her to be herself and get into mischief when she is at home, just as her siblings manage to do! With her, I am happy for her to be going to pre-school, and I may go for lattes with the other moms, but I will laugh when I retrieve her and hear of how my littlest miscreant has pulled pranks and said goofy things and left people scratching their heads!
Friday, November 13, 2009
So my kids called 911. . .
This was written on a day that nothing burned down and plenty of good things happened. I was within two miles of my gas running out and I filled up my tank, I got some knitting done before my class this weekend, got my kids to where they needed to be. But. . . I took a shower in the late afternoon and got a pounding on my door shortly after I got out, "Mom! Nine one one is on the phone!"
I stepped out, I'd been hollaring at a child to find a hair brush for me. "Yes?" Apparently one of my younger children had called them and I was asked for my information. I looked at the caller ID to make sure it was who they said and gave it to them. A police officer came over within 30 seconds (we practically live next door to them) and I started rambling about my house fire. I think that may be part of why they called 911, because I had told them that in an emergency to call them and that was why I started rambling as I recalled the fire. Oh-- I had to share, I knew he'd understand.
Over the years, several of my kids have called emergency services and I never know who did it. I am torn between putting the phone up too high for them to reach it (a four and a five year old) to just banking on them doing it only once per child and letting the matter rest.
The officer spoke to my kids and told them that it is OK to call 911 in an emergency. Of course no one admitted to calling, so it was the dreaded phantom who breaks into bags of chocolate chips, gets into cookies and then glues the ends of the packages shut, sneaks into preservative laden dips and puts them back into the cupboard instead of the 'fridge where they belong and risks giving us botulism, etc.
In 20 years when I am 60, will this be something that I will recall or care about with the raising of children? Will there be something besides 911 to call for emergencies?
I am grateful for the response, but my nerves. . .
Now. . . some music for inhaling. . .
I stepped out, I'd been hollaring at a child to find a hair brush for me. "Yes?" Apparently one of my younger children had called them and I was asked for my information. I looked at the caller ID to make sure it was who they said and gave it to them. A police officer came over within 30 seconds (we practically live next door to them) and I started rambling about my house fire. I think that may be part of why they called 911, because I had told them that in an emergency to call them and that was why I started rambling as I recalled the fire. Oh-- I had to share, I knew he'd understand.
Over the years, several of my kids have called emergency services and I never know who did it. I am torn between putting the phone up too high for them to reach it (a four and a five year old) to just banking on them doing it only once per child and letting the matter rest.
The officer spoke to my kids and told them that it is OK to call 911 in an emergency. Of course no one admitted to calling, so it was the dreaded phantom who breaks into bags of chocolate chips, gets into cookies and then glues the ends of the packages shut, sneaks into preservative laden dips and puts them back into the cupboard instead of the 'fridge where they belong and risks giving us botulism, etc.
In 20 years when I am 60, will this be something that I will recall or care about with the raising of children? Will there be something besides 911 to call for emergencies?
I am grateful for the response, but my nerves. . .
Now. . . some music for inhaling. . .
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