So you won't hear me complaining about toilet seats being left up. I'm good. It goes with the territory.
Mr. B - - he's my man.
Thursday, June 13
Man Card
Do you ever see a man and wonder how in the world he was ever issued his man card in the first place? I love my manly man. He can easily handle home projects, yard stuff, car stuff, computer stuff (well, duh) and he looks great without his shirt on. If I have a problem, I can totally embrace the "damsel in distress" vibe and he's my guy. Not all guys can pull this off. His card is laminated. I've never, once, felt like yanking it from him. He's got the stones to pull off most anything.
So you won't hear me complaining about toilet seats being left up. I'm good. It goes with the territory.
So you won't hear me complaining about toilet seats being left up. I'm good. It goes with the territory.
Wednesday, June 12
Summer Lazies
Day three into our real summer vacation (last week didn't count because of VBS) and I'm already feeling like a tyrant.
Time to set some ground rules and enforce them.
I've been lax on the "no eating in your room" rule. That stops. Right now. Their room floors are tile. And one of the minion's room had crumbs everywhere. Pop Tart, cereal, popcorn, chex mix. It was nasty. I told him that he blew his last chance. No more. No food in the room. Period.
Another thing - - thou shalt not hide out in one's room all day and play on the computer, play video games or watch TV. Bored? I will find you something for them to do. But dang it, you need to be a freakin' kid. I get that it's hot outside. It was hot outside when I was a kid, too. I survived. I didn't whine when told I was going to the pool. I BEGGED to go to the pool. I would have gone every stinkin' day. And don't even get me started on Sea World. We announced last night that we have an upcoming trip there. I had one complainer and one happy kid. Tough. Stuff. We're going. And you can sit and pout all day. (I'm certain you won't. You love it.)
On that note, this vacay is unplugged. That's right. No electronic devices for kids. I will permit movies in the van. But that's it. We're going to the library on Friday and checking out books. Read up my little darlings. Get lost in fiction. It's good for you. Lest you think I'm a Bossy McBosserson, I'll be reading, too. I have plenty of books on my Kindle. I'll probably leave my iPad at home anyway and take my old school Kindle. No games on that. Just me and books.
I am not letting my kids became total lame-o lazies.
Now - - we're headed to go find a couple of swim shirts, get the van washed and then we're going swimming.
My name is B and I refuse to raise lazy children.
Time to set some ground rules and enforce them.
I've been lax on the "no eating in your room" rule. That stops. Right now. Their room floors are tile. And one of the minion's room had crumbs everywhere. Pop Tart, cereal, popcorn, chex mix. It was nasty. I told him that he blew his last chance. No more. No food in the room. Period.
Another thing - - thou shalt not hide out in one's room all day and play on the computer, play video games or watch TV. Bored? I will find you something for them to do. But dang it, you need to be a freakin' kid. I get that it's hot outside. It was hot outside when I was a kid, too. I survived. I didn't whine when told I was going to the pool. I BEGGED to go to the pool. I would have gone every stinkin' day. And don't even get me started on Sea World. We announced last night that we have an upcoming trip there. I had one complainer and one happy kid. Tough. Stuff. We're going. And you can sit and pout all day. (I'm certain you won't. You love it.)
On that note, this vacay is unplugged. That's right. No electronic devices for kids. I will permit movies in the van. But that's it. We're going to the library on Friday and checking out books. Read up my little darlings. Get lost in fiction. It's good for you. Lest you think I'm a Bossy McBosserson, I'll be reading, too. I have plenty of books on my Kindle. I'll probably leave my iPad at home anyway and take my old school Kindle. No games on that. Just me and books.
I am not letting my kids became total lame-o lazies.
Now - - we're headed to go find a couple of swim shirts, get the van washed and then we're going swimming.
My name is B and I refuse to raise lazy children.
Tuesday, June 11
Boobs
So this is how it went down. (Pun totally intended.)
I was putting away dishes for my youngest minion. He had unloaded the dishwasher. The things he doesn't know where they belong or he can't reach, he sets on the counter. And I put them away. So as I bent over (still in my gown - - again with the judging - - it's summer) he quickly put his hand up over his eyes and said, "Mom, I can totally see your floppy things."
Bam.
Just like that. My boobs went from something I'm proud of to, in his eyes, floppy things.
Now, for the record, I don't want him to like my floppy things. I prefer he look away. And I need to be more careful so that he doesn't have to ever endure the trauma again. I'm not ashamed of them. But I do believe in healthy boundaries with my children. (On that note, you fellas can stop coming into the bathroom anytime now. Clever little lock pickers.)
I would like to set the record straight. I'm sure that, in his young opinion, they are floppy. I can see where he would call them that. They aren't fake. So they actually move. And they aren't small. They used to be much larger. But thanks to fantastic insurance and a terrific plastic surgeon, my ginormous knockers became a reasonable size back in 1999. And they stood up, instead of hanging. (I'm sorry if my brothers read this and find this disturbing. You should have not even read this based solely on the title.) It is fourteen years later and I'm sure a bit of a lift would be in order. Maybe just weight loss. But that's beside the point.
My boobs have been noticed. And now I feel like I have to be a little more modest around the home. Do I have to wear a bra now? The sisters weren't meant to be caged for long periods of time. And frankly, I curse the person who invented underwire. I like sports bras. But they just smash 'em. I feel somewhat "mannish" when I wear the sports bras.
Thank God I don't have periods anymore or this might be a really crappy woman moment for me. At least I will never have to deal with "shark week" again. Ever. I'll just keep the girls upright and call it good.
Did I really just type up a long post about boobs? Why yes. Yes I did. And you love me for that. Don't ya?
I was putting away dishes for my youngest minion. He had unloaded the dishwasher. The things he doesn't know where they belong or he can't reach, he sets on the counter. And I put them away. So as I bent over (still in my gown - - again with the judging - - it's summer) he quickly put his hand up over his eyes and said, "Mom, I can totally see your floppy things."
Bam.
Just like that. My boobs went from something I'm proud of to, in his eyes, floppy things.
Now, for the record, I don't want him to like my floppy things. I prefer he look away. And I need to be more careful so that he doesn't have to ever endure the trauma again. I'm not ashamed of them. But I do believe in healthy boundaries with my children. (On that note, you fellas can stop coming into the bathroom anytime now. Clever little lock pickers.)
I would like to set the record straight. I'm sure that, in his young opinion, they are floppy. I can see where he would call them that. They aren't fake. So they actually move. And they aren't small. They used to be much larger. But thanks to fantastic insurance and a terrific plastic surgeon, my ginormous knockers became a reasonable size back in 1999. And they stood up, instead of hanging. (I'm sorry if my brothers read this and find this disturbing. You should have not even read this based solely on the title.) It is fourteen years later and I'm sure a bit of a lift would be in order. Maybe just weight loss. But that's beside the point.
My boobs have been noticed. And now I feel like I have to be a little more modest around the home. Do I have to wear a bra now? The sisters weren't meant to be caged for long periods of time. And frankly, I curse the person who invented underwire. I like sports bras. But they just smash 'em. I feel somewhat "mannish" when I wear the sports bras.
Thank God I don't have periods anymore or this might be a really crappy woman moment for me. At least I will never have to deal with "shark week" again. Ever. I'll just keep the girls upright and call it good.
Did I really just type up a long post about boobs? Why yes. Yes I did. And you love me for that. Don't ya?
Monday, June 10
This is what I got done...
Read the post below. I challenged myself. Cleaning.
You probably don't care. But, again, I'm doing this for me. If you're inspired, well, then you're inspired. Yay.
In the past 45 minutes:
I dusted the living room and my bedroom.
I filed paper work that seemed to declare squatter's rights on my desk. (I had cleaned my desk drawer out earlier this morning. My desk has achieved rock star status.)
I made up my bed. (Don't judge me. I just wasn't in the mood when I crawled out of it at 9:30 this morning.)
I re-positioned Gus back onto the freshly made bed. He purred. It made me happy.
I cleaned off the top of my dresser.
I picked up and put away four pairs of my shoes that were in various places in the house. The one thing I gripe about the most, I am guilty of. For shame.
I summoned the designated minion for his turn to unload the dishwasher. (I'm about to go re-load it.)
I made the other minion a pitcher of his favorite kool-aid. He doesn't even know yet.
I brushed my teeth because I had onions with my lunch. My mouth felt funky. A funky mouth is not a happy mouth.
I'm about to:
Run the dust mop over the wood flooring and vacuum both minions' rooms.
Start dinner. Lime Butter Chicken. It will be fabulous and you should be jealous.
Pet Gus. Again. He loves it when I pet him. I'm his person.
Pour my first Diet Coke w/Splenda for the day. 3:10 and I haven't had one yet? Yikes. That's insane.
Check Amazon for the status of an order. I already feel sorry for the UPS man. I'm certain I'll scare him when I spring out from behind the door when the bell rings. I really need this package to arrive by Friday. *crosses fingers*
Okay. I'm out. Stuffs to do.
Later.
You probably don't care. But, again, I'm doing this for me. If you're inspired, well, then you're inspired. Yay.
In the past 45 minutes:
I dusted the living room and my bedroom.
I filed paper work that seemed to declare squatter's rights on my desk. (I had cleaned my desk drawer out earlier this morning. My desk has achieved rock star status.)
I made up my bed. (Don't judge me. I just wasn't in the mood when I crawled out of it at 9:30 this morning.)
I re-positioned Gus back onto the freshly made bed. He purred. It made me happy.
I cleaned off the top of my dresser.
I picked up and put away four pairs of my shoes that were in various places in the house. The one thing I gripe about the most, I am guilty of. For shame.
I summoned the designated minion for his turn to unload the dishwasher. (I'm about to go re-load it.)
I made the other minion a pitcher of his favorite kool-aid. He doesn't even know yet.
I brushed my teeth because I had onions with my lunch. My mouth felt funky. A funky mouth is not a happy mouth.
I'm about to:
Run the dust mop over the wood flooring and vacuum both minions' rooms.
Start dinner. Lime Butter Chicken. It will be fabulous and you should be jealous.
Pet Gus. Again. He loves it when I pet him. I'm his person.
Pour my first Diet Coke w/Splenda for the day. 3:10 and I haven't had one yet? Yikes. That's insane.
Check Amazon for the status of an order. I already feel sorry for the UPS man. I'm certain I'll scare him when I spring out from behind the door when the bell rings. I really need this package to arrive by Friday. *crosses fingers*
Okay. I'm out. Stuffs to do.
Later.
Hi
I've got nothing. Seriously. Nothing. But I'm hoping to revive this place again and this is my very lame attempt at making at least one entry. Anyone still out there? Do I just talk to myself? I'll try to think of something good again.
Ohhhhhh. I've got an idea. Cleaning. I'll do a little cleaning challenge. If anything, just for me. You know, accountability and all of that.
I'll report back in 45 minutes.
Ohhhhhh. I've got an idea. Cleaning. I'll do a little cleaning challenge. If anything, just for me. You know, accountability and all of that.
I'll report back in 45 minutes.
Monday, March 25
A New Journey - - Me vs. Standardized Testing
I began a crazy journey yesterday. I'm ready to take on the State of Texas and our education system.
I'm nervously-excited about it. I guess I'm lucky because my oldest is a third-grader. If there was a time to take a stand, now is the time. We're not in a "have-to" position this year. We aren't in threat of being held back. But a test is still "on the books" for us this year. In just a few weeks.
My son is STRUGGLING in math. Big time. But is he in math tutorials after school? No. He's in reading tutorials. Why? Because third grade does the reading portion of STAAR this spring. Coincidence? Hardly.
It all started to click with me late Saturday night. A friend posted a link. It snowballed for me from there. Research. Notes. Questions. Conversations.
What's that? B's gone all activist? Yep. The rumors are true. I'm not looking to *cause* trouble. I expect I will. And I expect to catch a lot of flack.
In the end, I have to be a voice for my children. And I don't think that teaching to a test and wasting valuable instruction time on this stupid STAAR test is worth it. I'm sick of the expectations put on our kids, teachers and principals.
Homework shouldn't be sample test questions.
We shouldn't get all worked up and have a practice test day.
I'm super pissed at myself for not educating myself sooner. I just took the school's word for it. We "have to."
No.
We have rights. I will stand up for my kids. I have a voice. I can be loud. I will be loud. I will be heard.
My name is B. And it's time to make some changes in Austin. I am tired of sub-par education. I'm ready to be bold for my kids. Teachers - - I hope and pray that you can get back to the business of educating our kids. I don't blame you. I love you for following your calling. Let me help you do your job.
I'm nervously-excited about it. I guess I'm lucky because my oldest is a third-grader. If there was a time to take a stand, now is the time. We're not in a "have-to" position this year. We aren't in threat of being held back. But a test is still "on the books" for us this year. In just a few weeks.
My son is STRUGGLING in math. Big time. But is he in math tutorials after school? No. He's in reading tutorials. Why? Because third grade does the reading portion of STAAR this spring. Coincidence? Hardly.
It all started to click with me late Saturday night. A friend posted a link. It snowballed for me from there. Research. Notes. Questions. Conversations.
What's that? B's gone all activist? Yep. The rumors are true. I'm not looking to *cause* trouble. I expect I will. And I expect to catch a lot of flack.
In the end, I have to be a voice for my children. And I don't think that teaching to a test and wasting valuable instruction time on this stupid STAAR test is worth it. I'm sick of the expectations put on our kids, teachers and principals.
Homework shouldn't be sample test questions.
We shouldn't get all worked up and have a practice test day.
I'm super pissed at myself for not educating myself sooner. I just took the school's word for it. We "have to."
No.
We have rights. I will stand up for my kids. I have a voice. I can be loud. I will be loud. I will be heard.
My name is B. And it's time to make some changes in Austin. I am tired of sub-par education. I'm ready to be bold for my kids. Teachers - - I hope and pray that you can get back to the business of educating our kids. I don't blame you. I love you for following your calling. Let me help you do your job.
Friday, March 22
Observations from today's walk...
I decided to walk to pick the kids up from school. Here are some random thoughts and observations:
1. I saw a squirrel's tail. Just the tail. I'm guessing the rest of the squirrel was in about equal shape as the rogue tail.
2. I HATE it when my girly parts try to eat my shorts. Maybe someday when my thighs quit rubbing together I will achieve this dream of walking without digging.
3. I am thisclose to freestyle walking. I must have an awesome playlist because I wanted to get my groove on whilst walking. Several times.
4. On that note, the song "Gangsta's Paradise" made me rap while I was walking. Justin thought that was totally un-funny. And un-cool. And he begged me to stop. I told him to keep up with my pace and I'd shut my pie hole.
5. Not everyone scoops their dog's poo. Lucky for me, I pay attention.
6. It's officially spring. TAKE YOUR CHRISTMAS LIGHTS DOWN. I'm about two weeks away from Christmas caroling your house. And I do not sing pretty.
7. If you are in your 20's and driving a Caddy, I assume you either inherited it from an old, dead loved one or you are a drug dealer. Or both. Either way, slow your butt down. There are kids playing in this neighborhood. And please don't sell them drugs.
8. The buzzards flying overhead during my walk was just a touch unnerving.
9. Kind of a bad day for Cam to have to walk home. He had a busted tennis shoe. I guess we'll be going to buy a new pair this weekend. Yay.
That's all I can remember right now. It was good times.
1. I saw a squirrel's tail. Just the tail. I'm guessing the rest of the squirrel was in about equal shape as the rogue tail.
2. I HATE it when my girly parts try to eat my shorts. Maybe someday when my thighs quit rubbing together I will achieve this dream of walking without digging.
3. I am thisclose to freestyle walking. I must have an awesome playlist because I wanted to get my groove on whilst walking. Several times.
4. On that note, the song "Gangsta's Paradise" made me rap while I was walking. Justin thought that was totally un-funny. And un-cool. And he begged me to stop. I told him to keep up with my pace and I'd shut my pie hole.
5. Not everyone scoops their dog's poo. Lucky for me, I pay attention.
6. It's officially spring. TAKE YOUR CHRISTMAS LIGHTS DOWN. I'm about two weeks away from Christmas caroling your house. And I do not sing pretty.
7. If you are in your 20's and driving a Caddy, I assume you either inherited it from an old, dead loved one or you are a drug dealer. Or both. Either way, slow your butt down. There are kids playing in this neighborhood. And please don't sell them drugs.
8. The buzzards flying overhead during my walk was just a touch unnerving.
9. Kind of a bad day for Cam to have to walk home. He had a busted tennis shoe. I guess we'll be going to buy a new pair this weekend. Yay.
That's all I can remember right now. It was good times.
Thursday, March 21
Just Between Friends Sale
Let me first say this - - I freakin' love JBF. Seriously. I love it. I will admit something though. I don't sell stuff. But I am SO thankful for the ladies that do. Because this girl LOVES to shop there. And that's what I plan on doing. I. Am. Shopping.
We are only two weeks away. TWO!!! Put it on your calendar. Tell Sandy and her crew that Becky sent you. Here are some details about the sale:
Find all you need for your growing family at Just Between Friends SPRING 2013 Sales Event! Children/Teen/Maternity Clothing, shoes, accessories, cribs, changing tables, swings, Port-a-cribs, strollers, toys, bassinets, high chairs, movies, exersaucers/walkers, books, maternity/nursing items, crib/twin bedding, games, office/household furniture!
Exclusive Pre-Sales: Thursday, APRIL 4th Check the website for details of how YOU can attend!
Friday, APRIL 5th 10am-7pm Open To the Public
Saturday, APRIL 6th 10am-5pm (new merchandise) Open To the Public
Sunday, APRIL 7th 10am-4pm (½ Price Sale) Open To the Public
Cash/check/Visa/MC/Discover
Benefits, in part, New Bridge Family Shelter
www.jbfsale.com/sanangelo
www.facebook.com/jbfsanangelo
We are only two weeks away. TWO!!! Put it on your calendar. Tell Sandy and her crew that Becky sent you. Here are some details about the sale:
HUGE KID’S GEAR SALE!! You can shop, sell, volunteer, and advertise your business!
JUST BETWEEN FRIENDS:
Shop, Sell, Save, Smart!
Find all you need for your growing family at Just Between Friends SPRING 2013 Sales Event! Children/Teen/Maternity Clothing, shoes, accessories, cribs, changing tables, swings, Port-a-cribs, strollers, toys, bassinets, high chairs, movies, exersaucers/walkers, books, maternity/nursing items, crib/twin bedding, games, office/household furniture!
WELLS FARGO PAVILION
4608 Grape Creek Road 76903
Exclusive Pre-Sales: Thursday, APRIL 4th Check the website for details of how YOU can attend!
Friday, APRIL 5th 10am-7pm Open To the Public
Saturday, APRIL 6th 10am-5pm (new merchandise) Open To the Public
Sunday, APRIL 7th 10am-4pm (½ Price Sale) Open To the Public
Cash/check/Visa/MC/Discover
Benefits, in part, New Bridge Family Shelter
www.jbfsale.com/sanangelo
www.facebook.com/jbfsanangelo
SHOP.SELL.SAVE.SMART!
Thursday, March 14
Social Media - - Taking a Break
You know - - sometimes life just gets in the way. And distance isn't our ally. We get busy. And when friends move away, we have to find other ways to sustain our friendships.
At first it was social media. Which, in the beginning, worked great.
Now? Not so much. She's sick of it and so am I. It's so dang consuming. Facebook is a time-sucking vortex. I own that. There is little face to face or personal interaction. And everyone knows everything. How many times, just today, did the phrase "I read it on Facebook" find its way into a conversation? I can think of at least once. Just today.
I'm beginning the process of backing way the heck off. The problem is, it's how everyone stays "in the know" with what's going on in our lives. It's a fast way to get information out there to the masses. I figure if it's important enough, someone will let me know.
Something else that's made me want to back up are teenagers. They've taken over Facebook and Instagram. And Pinterest. I don't have anything to hide. But if I want to say the word "ass" then I need someplace to say it and not get reprimanded. Yep, I'm 42. And yes, I've been reprimanded (as kindly as possible) for saying "ass" this year. Go figure. I'm sick of tip-toeing.
Bottom line - - if you're still around here and someone like has a baby, gets engaged, has a major car wreck or even dies, would you tip me off? Otherwise, I might miss it. If someone checks in at, oh, I don't know, Starbucks or Wal-Mart - - I don't need to know.
I even took Facebook off of my phone.
This seems to happen to me this time every year. Baseball season kicks in, end of school festivities begin and life gets insanely busy. I'm cutting back the fluff this year. Again. I remember it helping in years past. If only I could keep the momentum.
So - - here's to more blogging.
And Diet Coke with Splenda. I haven't had one all day. And that's just messed up. Plus I'm thirsty.
Thursday, March 7
Structure and Planning
I crave structure. Not rigid structure. But a plan. If the plan changes, and I have enough notice, I can handle it. Even with little notice, I can cope. I may grumble. But I'll deal with it.
Here's where things go wrong - - failing to make a plan. Especially if it involves my kids. Cameron flies by the seat of his pants. He's just like his daddy. (I married a smart, handsome, sexy beast of a man. But a planner - - he is not. Chalk that one up to God's sense of humor.) So no big thing. Justin, however, is just like his mama. Poor kid. He likes to know what's going to happen and when. No detail left out. The more details, the better.
My dilemma: we have "plans" tomorrow night. But we don't know what that plan is. If he doesn't know how things are going to pan out for the evening, he's going to dwell on it while at school. I need him focused at school.
Ugh.
Justin and I need to learn to live with spontaneity. We need to find the joy in that. How does one transition from planning to "eh - - whatever?" If you know the answer to this, let me know.
Here's where things go wrong - - failing to make a plan. Especially if it involves my kids. Cameron flies by the seat of his pants. He's just like his daddy. (I married a smart, handsome, sexy beast of a man. But a planner - - he is not. Chalk that one up to God's sense of humor.) So no big thing. Justin, however, is just like his mama. Poor kid. He likes to know what's going to happen and when. No detail left out. The more details, the better.
My dilemma: we have "plans" tomorrow night. But we don't know what that plan is. If he doesn't know how things are going to pan out for the evening, he's going to dwell on it while at school. I need him focused at school.
Ugh.
Justin and I need to learn to live with spontaneity. We need to find the joy in that. How does one transition from planning to "eh - - whatever?" If you know the answer to this, let me know.
Wednesday, March 6
Colton Dixon
I just bought his album on iTunes. Wow. LOVE his style. I'm not going to give in and start watching AI. Not my thing. But I will listen to what my peeps suggest for new music. And this one was spot on with my taste.
Good stuff.
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| Amazon linky |
Good stuff.
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