Martin Randomness

Waiting for death 1/31/2011

2012-01-27T20:49:00.000-08:00

It's an odd gathering of sorts. Family, friends; all wanting to say the last goodbye. Not yesterday; only today's will do. We are all waiting on pins and needles. When will it happen? If I step out, will I miss it? Do I need to be here for it? Do I want to be here for it?
Periods of great sadness, then fond memories, then laughter, then sadness of the lost opportunity for new memories.
Everyone reacts differently. Mom is strong and then weepy. Jerry finds it hard to continually fill the voids. Troy looks bewildered and tired. Dad has nothing to solve. Corrie is strong and nostalgic. And I'm wishy washy to the point of total disarray. No logical thought will get us out of this one.
After rushing to the hospice this morning because of imminent death, we find ourselves all milling about. we couldn't stand to be away from her bedside before; all holding her hand. Now that the nurse's estimate has lapsed, people are confused. We all strangley have a sense of guilt for not having the patience to wait for the end. No one wants the end, however no one likes limbo either. For a group of type A problem solvers, this is hellacious. Theres nothing to solve. Nothing to fix. Nothing to cure.

Just the wait.

I will always remember her smile when I walked in a couple of days ago. The recognition that spread across her face. It is now alright. The love I have for you is still intact.
But not today. Today, it is locked away in a coma. I know it still exists; but it hurts not to see it anymore.

The hardest prayer to make is the one to ask for final resting peace. Sometimes I now wonder who it is more for- the release of the dying; or relief of the family. Too bad it doesn't relieve the guilt of wanting to leave...

[written while sitting in Nanny's hospice room all new year's eve. I finally gave out; and left for the evening so that I could spend time with the kids. Mom and Corrie remained to stay the night. In true style, Nanny left this world just as all the firecrackers were finishing their splendor on new year's morning. Mom and Cor had just finished singing Auld lang's syne at her bedside.]

It didn't smell!

2011-10-19T06:31:00.000-07:00

QPM #4,692: Pulling yesterday's dry pull-up out of the trash and letting little girl re-wear it because I forgot to go to the grocery store to buy a new pack.

Why on earth is my portrait not hanging in the Parental Hall of Fame?

A Love Song, Definitely

2011-10-07T07:07:00.000-07:00

I've beaten the musical horse with my ramblings of how music plays into my life -- sending me back lost into memories or stirring my desire for a spring time road trip in a car with the top down. This morning as I am a mere 48 hrs from leaving for the project I work all year for I show up to work before the crick crack of dawn to wrap up all of my teeny tiny details and find that the network drives are not accessible. F*** me!!! to quote Stu. Really...

I am worn thin by long hours, lack of sleep, way too much caffenine, no time, and stress oozing out my pores. My radio station is irriating me to the point of being irrational - my iTunes is not satisfying me yet some how a song finds me...

The first time I hear this song I am saddened...it feels sad. But is that my mood determining the music?

I looked up the lyrics. Its a beautiful love song. Seems to be the only thing I am interested in hearing today.

So I get to choose -- sad music or love song? For me a metaphor for my state of mind.

For Chad --- it is Matthew's Song....

Eric's Song by Vienna Teng on YouTube

Lyrics:

Strange how you know inside me
I measure the time and I stand amazed
Strange how I know inside you
My hand is outstretched toward the damp of the haze

And of course I forgive
I've seen how you live
Like a phoenix you rise from the ashes
You pick up the pieces
And the ghosts in the attic
They never quite leave
And of course I forgive
You've seen how I live
I've got darkness and fears to appease
My voices and analogies
Ambitions like ribbons
Worn bright on my sleeve

Strange how we know each other

Strange how I fit into you
There's a distance erased with the greatest of ease
Strange how you fit into me
A gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs

And with each passing day
The stories we say
Draw us tighter into our addiction
Confirm our conviction
That some kind of miracle
Passed on our heads
And how I am sure
Like never before
Of my reasons for defying reason
Embracing the seasons
We dance through the colors
Both followed and led

Strange how we fit each other

Strange how certain the journey
Time unfolds the petals
For our eyes to see
Strange how this journey's hurting
In ways we accept as part of fate's decree

So we just hold on fast
Acknowledge the past
As lessons exquisitely crafted
Painstakingly drafted
To carve us as instruments
That play the music of life
For we don't realize
Our faith in the prize
Unless it's been somehow elusive
How swiftly we choose it
The sacred simplicity
Of you at my side

A Children's Story

2011-08-09T07:45:00.000-07:00

One of the twists of having children is the unexpected moments they bring to our lives -- those times where I really don't think my brain can churn an answer fast enough or accurate enough or parental enough. These moments always occur when my guard is down.

Zachary had checked out a book from the library -- it was a Star Wars book - yes he is the definition of obsessed. It was divided into three stories in one book so we were reading a story a night at bedtime. On this particular night, the story was about a battle between the Jedi and Clones versus the Battle Droids and how the Battle Droids thought their ambush would destroy the Jedi but the Jedi outsmarted them, etc etc.

A very tiny little subplot -- not even two pages worth of story - was about the Jedi trying to evacuate the civilians to a safe location. There were lines of people waiting to get on the transport however all of these people had all of their possessions with them. The Jedi then had to make a tough call and told all the civilians that only people were getting on the transport and they would have to leave all of their things behind.

There were protests -- "my mother's china - my grandpa's picture -- they have to come --I will NOT leave them." One guy hid all his stuff under a coat trying to smuggle it on board. But the Jedi drew the line -- people only. Then one farmer tried to bring his elephant dog thing on the transport but the Jedi said no. The farmer said that this elephant dog thing was like family and he could not leave it behind. The Jedi said to the farmer then you pick three of your neighbors to stay behind so that your elephant dog can get on the transport. The farmer looks at the people and then kisses his elephant dog thing and says to it -- Run to the desert and when the battle is over I will come find you and bring you home. The elephant dog cried and then ran away.

Again I must state this whole scene was two pages out of 30.

After Z's story, Rylee picked hers - Llama Llama series or Go Dog Go -- something of that nature. We then followed our usual bed time process. Lights out - prayers - kisses - take Rylee to bed then come back to tickle Z's back for a few minutes and then night night.

When I returned to Z's room to tickle his back, he rolled over and had those giant-only-a-kid-can-make tears rolling down his eyes. I was so startled. He wasn't sobbing -- just eyes full of tears and they were leaving shiny streaks on his cheeks. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he was so sad for the farmer to leave his pet. He said he just didn't understand why the elephant dog had to stay because it might die in the battle.

The value of Human life versus Animal Life actually Pet Life - Oh my. I am so over my head -- I try to pause to form my words correctly but I don't even know what words to try.

I attempt to explain that while pets are very important and very loved in this situation we have to save the people before the pets. Trying to put it in a little perspective I pose the example if we had to pick between the elephant dog and Rylee we would pick Rylee - right? Silence. I restate - we can't leave your sister and take the pet - right? More silence. It is kind of funny from a sibling rivalry point of view but at the time I was grasping at anything to help my son understand and say “Zachary - we can’t leave Rylee!”

I try the distraction technique -- "Don't worry Zachary when the battle was over the farmer came back and found his elephant dog and they lived together on the farm. It was a hard choice for the farmer but it worked out fine."

Z responds - "but Mom what if the battle droids had won and the pet had died because the farmer chose to leave him."

Now I have giant tears. I am so full of love for my sensitive caring loving boy but I am frustrated that I cannot adequately explain the situation.

So I just push forward with the truth. I tell him that if the pet had died the farmer would have been so very sad. That it would have been so hard for the farmer and he would miss his elephant dog. That the farmer may have even gotten angry with the Jedi for making him leave that family pet behind. But after time, the farmer would know that while his beloved pet died, a family was able to keep three of their loved people.

He still had the tears streaming and he kind of nodded and rolled over. He sniffed and said “You’re right. We can’t leave Rylee but I am still sad.”

I lay down next to him and tickled his back and said “I know you are baby.”

From Star Wars bed time story to a discussion on the value of life…I am a seriously underprepared parent of a beautifully compassionate boy.

A video? Like one??? Try THREE!

2011-06-05T07:23:00.000-07:00

Day 23: A video

Can't pick just one so....

Video 1: Z calls 911

This video is Zachary at his Safety Town field trip that I was able to chaperone. He was "volunteered" to show what it is like to make a 911 call. I wish I had video taped the screen he was looking at - it was a picture of a frying pan in huge flames. I also wish the audio was better so you could hear his answers. I was very proud of him -- he seems to have a bit of dramatic flair (say what???) and was quite a natural up there despite never having called 911 in real life. However, what makes me smile the most is the end where his classmates make room for him on the steps and he high fives his friend Cristian -- it's a goofy mom thing I guess -- proud to see your child interacting with his friends.

Video 2: Ry does yardwork

Rylee is all about "I do it!" "I try" and all the stereotypical independent phrases a 2 year can say. I picked this video of her because: 1. She had to do it (but Chad wouldn't let her do it on her own for obvious reasons) and 2. She is wearing a tutu. She does everything in a tutu -- a PINK tutu. Getting her ready for school in the morning is a battle because I don't let her wear her tutus to school -- she would sleep, shower, and play in a tutu if we would let her. While annoying at times - I have to admit this pink girly tutu phase makes me smile -- she looks so darn cute!!

Video 3: Super the Batman

My favorite video of my absolutely favorite three people. I think this showcases another reason I am completely in love with Chad - he is a down in the ditches Dad. He is not afraid to get on the floor and play and be involved. Not every dad has wicked light saber battles or defends himself from two little Power Rangers wielding Nerf swords or gives horse back rides or plays freeze blanket. Z and Ry -- we are a very lucky and incredibly blessed family to have the Daddy we do!!

A Tale of Two Kids and a Retirement Party

2011-06-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

Tale A: My beautiful Rylee Girl

My MILs retirement party was from 2 – 4pm last Friday at her bank. We drove in that morning, got to SA in time to change and head to the bank. Knowing that 2 hrs in a bank after a long car ride and no nap have potential for total kid meltdown, Chad smartly packed books and coloring materials for entertainment.

Because the bank was still open and there were customers trying to do business, we set boundaries of where the children could and could not go. About an hour into it, Rylee decides to see if I really meant it about the no-go zone. She took off running to another part of the bank. I must also offer this piece of trivia – the majority of the bank clientele that was walking around the lobby that day averaged the age of 75. There were lots of people with walkers and canes and not prepared to have a nearly 3 year old come whizzing by.

I chased her at a fast walk and trying to use my inside voice said “Rylee you are not supposed to be on this side of the bank – please go back to MiMi’s party.” She smiled and kept running. In a little bit louder of a voice I say “Rylee – enough! Now! WALK back to the party.” My child then crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaned on her hip, and very sternly with plenty of attitude (and I swear she bobbed her head too!) said “No.”

I have no idea what look I gave her – honestly I was so stunned at her defiance I may have blacked out – but what ever look it was made her eyes get really big and she ran faster than I have ever seen her back over to MiMi’s party and straight to MiMi.

My MIL who was in the middle of everything was so happy that her little granddaughter who had been so very shy up to this point had come over to see her. She scooped up Ry and started introducing her around.

I am sure my face was crunched up into something very ugly and I walked up to my husband and BIL and said “Unbelievable!” I told the story, thrust out my hip in the same way she did to put more emphasis on her shocking behavior and then pointed at my daughter that had been granted asylum in her MiMi’s arms. Both Chad and Todd cracked up – they thought it was hilarious. Todd said that Kendall probably taught her that and Chad said he thought it was a smart move by our daughter to head straight to MiMi – she knew what she was doing.

We all turn to look at the little angel who smiles at the three of us , sweetly touches MiMi’s cheek, and then lays her head down on MiMi’s shoulder to nuzzle in.

Tale B: My sweet Z

Dinner after the bank retirement party is at a small west Texas town’s dive famous for its amazing chicken fried steak – Lowake’s – and it is about 25 mins from my in-laws house. We have essentially gone from the bank to the house to regroup and then out to dinner. No rest for the weary or the children.

Not to shockingly my kids are bored and want to run around the restaurant. I hate that. I don’t like them running around because they may run into a server or disturb someone eating. I get why parents allow their kids to do that and I know that Lowake’s is not known for its linen table clothes and china plates but even those eating chicken fried steak do not need to listen to and watch my kids run.

I finally breakdown and tell Zachary they can go into the bar (I know!) and “play” the video games. There is a Ms. Pac Man, a hunting game with two pistols, and a “you’ll never get anything from here” claw game. Ry could care less if she is really playing the game or it is on its looped demo. She plays with the guns, presses buttons, and watches the screen. Z wanted to play but I honestly hadn’t brought my wallet with me (guess I presumed I wasn’t paying for dinner!) so I told him he would have to pretend.

One of other kids there, he is four, had been dumping dollar after dollar in that stupid claw machine. He had his heart set on the Nemo fish – it was purple by the way – not orange and white – not judging here just observing.

During this time my BIL gave Zachary a dollar and Kendall a dollar saying that PaPa Martin gave them money. So Zachary wanted to do the claw game. UGH. Oh well, his money and his decision. He just watched Gage lose at least five dollars total trying for a stupid fish. I told Z he would have to wait his turn and that he could do what he wanted.

Gage’s mom got him 8 more quarters and I watch each quarter go in and the claw just miss the Nemo eight more times. Gage was not a happy boy especially when his mom said that it was Zachary’s turn.

Z put his first quarter in the game and went for the Nemo. And holy crap – he got the freakin Nemo. First try. I couldn’t believe it.

Zachary then takes the fake purple Nemo fish and hands it to Gage. He told Gage that he knew Gage really wanted it.

Z proceeded to give the claw machine his last three quarters with no prize for him.

The pride I felt at that moment – I just reached down and kept squeezing him over and over. Telling him what a sweet and giving boy he is and he got very bashful. I was – AM – so very proud of him.

What of these tales?

There is no real lesson here other than I think they stories highlight what stage of life my children are in. Rylee is testing her boundaries and Zachary is becoming aware of other’s feelings. And I definitely need to chill out.

I'm Just a Girl in the World

2011-05-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

This blog post actually started a little while ago in my head when Chad and I loaded up the kids to go on a road trip to South Arlington (hey it is far for us!) and I got in the passenger side and he on the driver’s side. There was no talk of who was going to drive, no compromise of you drive now and I’ll drive home, we both assumed Chad would drive.

The entry further formed last night as the kids and I were in the closet under the stairs and Chad was standing about two feet outside the closet watching the TV radar. Chad had been pacing back and forth – going outside to look at clouds – getting the weather radio out – pulling out the vacuum and extra folding chairs we keep in the closet to make room for his family. He had the computer radar going, the TV on, and his iPhone radar. I on the other hand was sitting on the couch looking at a book with Z and Ry. Looking up at the weather occasionally and asking Chad if he wanted us to go in the closet. I waited for his signal and then shepherded the kids into the closet. In the closet, the kids watched a TV episode on the computer and I pondered our situation.

It seemed funny to me that I was so passive in this situation. I am not one to keep my mouth shut about my opinions or suggestions with Chad. However at this time I relied solely on his guidance – he’ll tell us when to go in and he’ll tell us when we can get out of the closet. While Chad does have a fascination with weather, I assure you his meteorological skills are not really that much more advanced than my own. So why did I rely on him to be the decision maker in this situation? I tried to let the idea of traditional sex roles pass with no stopping in my brain but it did stop and fester.

I feel the need to back track a little here to address my personal take on traditional sex roles. My parents tried to be as neutral as possible when raising me – I had my own set of Tonka Trucks and Jamey had a Mikey doll – and no dream or want was off limits based on the fact that I was female. Sports were very encouraged and college was expected as was being a self sufficient adult.

In the PC world of higher education, I was more active and vocal about my opinions on equal rights for everyone regardless of sex, origin, sexual orientation, color, or favorite ice cream flavor. I was passionate and belonged to every college diversity committee possible – Human Rights Month committee, Black History Month Committee, Women’s History Month Committee, etc. I had a different ribbon on every month.

Moving to Lubbock was a shock to my system in the sense that I found a lot more women that were more passive about their abilities and plans. Sexism seemed to be more rampant in Lubbock than Columbia. Which stunned me at the time…I was a tad self righteous but isn’t that the job of a college student? To be so sure that you are right and you can change the world into realizing that your way is the absolute best way?

My graduate thesis was born out of my love for sports and my love for equality. I was horrified that soccer was not a legitimate sport or opportunity for girls past the age of ten in the eyes of the community. That led to a year long study to find that people in Lubbock believe boys should play football and girls should not. Surprised? I didn’t think so. It is funny to me now being nearly 15 years older and how black and white I viewed things.

TANGENT ALERT: I did want to educate those of you that read this blog. Sex is objective (insert joke here!) - either/or - male or female. Gender is subjective and falls on a continuum of masculine and feminine. Your sex can be male but your gender feminine. Drives me crazy with every form I fill out that asks what gender I am when they really want to know what sex I am. OK OK – maybe in Webster’s they’ll tell you that gender and sex are interchangeable words but with a year of researching the topic I stand by my definitions and differentiations.

Fast forward to present time. I am still a firm believer in avoiding sex roles. That will not change with my son or daughter. I don’t want them to find limits in what they do or where they go based on sex. But as I ponder how I have left Chad with the decisions on what to do in this weather situation, I begin to think that I have let down my college self. I do not feel like an independent woman – I feel like I have left the safety and security of my family completely in the hands of Chad. Not that he can’t handle it – he can – but shouldn’t that be the responsibility of both of us. Not me passively waiting on instructions. Why is it Chad’s role? Is it because he is the man of the house?

What do I rely on Chad for?
- Fixing broken things – toasters, chairs, fence
- Smoke detector maintenance
- Building – IKEA stuff, kids’ swing set
- Changing high light bulbs
- Taking charge in emergency or tense situations

What does Chad rely on me for?
- What to do when the kids are sick – how much medicine, which medicine, when to go to the doctor
- Taking care of birthday cards, parties, gifts
- Calendar maintenance – appointments, school functions, social gatherings
- Kid wardrobe – purchasing new items, outfit choices

I am intrigued as to what lines these tasks were subconsciously split. What is important to know when comparing these lists that they were not discussed. Chad and I have assumed these responsibilities without even having a conversation about it. I mean there are things that I do – laundry – and that he does – pay bills, lawn care – but these are tasks we divided up over ten years ago. We actually made a list of chores and responsibilities and divvied them up. The items outlined above? It just happened.

I believe some of this task assignments are based on skill – Chad is incredibly handy and is a natural problem solver and I have a weird memory that lets dates and people stick forever in my brain (I can tell you the birthdays of my 8th grade class – very bizarre I know) and the duty simply fell to the person that handles it best.

But what about the others? I have no training in the medical field. Chad did not take one class in high risk management. Those fall suspiciously close to sex roles.

And the driving thing. That bugs me – not that I have any high need to drive because I am AOK being the passenger but the fact that I assume I am the passenger is annoying. Is it because we always take Chad’s car?

In the end does it matter? Are we setting some sort of example for my kids about sex roles? I am thinking I am setting a bad example for my kids on far worse things and I do not have the time or energy to worry about these. Or is this how it gets passed down to the next generation? Being passive.

The college idealistic egotistical savior of the world woman in me is screaming in my brain to switch it up – don’t fall into a sexist pattern – don’t teach your kids that it’s ok. But her scream is no longer a roar – more of a faint call drowned out by the mature (hee hee) happy woman’s song that found compromise to make her marriage work and her life flow. While I may have been kicked out of Gloria Steinem’s club, I still have hope for equality and fully supportive of freedom for all regardless of sex or gender.

All of this said by the woman who’s son says you can’t have a pink light saber because it is too girly and Star Wars isn’t for girls and a daughter who won’t go anywhere without a pink tutu and a hair bow. College MK never stood a chance.

Maybe Not a Guffaw but Definitely a Snicker

2011-05-23T09:06:00.000-07:00

Day 22: A favorite joke

Clean? Dirty? NSFW?? Choices choices. I spent some time on this one trying to do a creative spin -- a practical joke I have played or been victim to? Nah - I am not a fan of practical jokes because I am more of a "can dish it but can't take it" kind of person. Not proud of it but it's true.

Perhaps naming a political figure. But then I would have to have a political conversation and I am not really a politics kind of gal.

Or something from a movie. Not in the mood to translate a perfectly good comedic scene into a blog.

My kids are very into Knock Knock jokes right now. Truthfully, Zachary is into them and Rylee is trying to be like Zachary. Z's favorite knock knock joke:

Z: Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Z: Boo
MK: Boo who?
Z: (cracking up so hard he can barely get out the punch line) Well you don't have to cry about it!!

Then there is Rylee's version:

Ry: Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Ry: Crying
MK: Crying who?
Ry: Umm no mommy. Don't cry.

Knock knock jokes get really old to me pretty quickly. Especially when they devolve into the ones that don't make sense:

Z: Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Z: Toilet
MK: Toilet who?
Z: The toilet is green. hahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahahaha

When that happens -- the QPMs kick in. In Z's mind the joke has to be done properly -- no deviations so he throws a nonsensical few my way, I throw a few deviations his way:

Z: Knock, Knock
MK: Who is there?
Z: Mom - that isn't right - it's who's there not who is there?
MK: Oh OK.
Z: Knock, Knock
MK: Who's here?
Z: No Mom -- there not here - say there not here
MK: Oh OK
Z: Knock, Knock
MK: There not here
Z: MOMMMMMYYYYYYY
MK: chuckle chuckle

He HATES the banana & orange one - the one you say banana three times and then conclude with orange and "orange you glad I didn't say banana?" Chad usually whips that one out on him. We get the high pitch screechy "You're doing it wrong!"

The ultimate knock knock QPM is blowing his punch line.

Z: Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Z: Boo
MK: Who is Boo?
Z: Mom you're not doing it right. Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Z: Boo
MK: Are you going to tell me not to cry?
Z: Mom!! Knock, Knock
MK: Who's there?
Z: BOO!
MK: Are you trying to scare me?
Z: That is not nice.
MK: I don't think it is nice you are trying to scare me.

End of Knock Knock jokes. Tee hee. Well, I am now sufficiently amused.

And while not my "favorite" a clean, sfw joke just to make sure your funny bone is tickled too:

Little Red Riding Hood is skipping down the road when she sees a big bad wolf crouched down behind a log. 'My, what big eyes you have, Mr. Wolf.'

The wolf jumps up and runs away. Further down the road Little Red Riding Hood sees the wolf again and this time he is crouched behind a bush. 'My what big ears you have, Mr. Wolf.'

Again the wolf jumps up and runs away. About two miles down the road Little Red Riding Hood sees the wolf again and this time he is crouched down behind a rock. 'My what big teeth you have Mr. Wolf.'

With that the wolf jumps up and screams, 'Will you knock it off, I'm trying to poop!'

Freudian Stew

2011-05-04T17:12:00.000-07:00

Day 21: A favorite recipe

My ability to turn the most innocent task into something that is life examining heart aching and head spinning is one for the crazy doctors. I started this post forever ago and then stopped because I made it into something it need not be.

I think I am extra sensitive with the whole cooking thing. I constantly tell anyone who will listen that I don't cook - I microwave. I am famous (well to my kids) for my fast easy kid friendly meals. And it really bothers me. I only have myself to blame - I am the one that started the rumor and I perpetuate it with my comments and actions. When favorite recipe turned up in the post challenge rotation, I froze.

I began running through recipes in my head which not shockingly was blank. There are certain meals I associate with my mom and what she cooked for us when I was little. I already described that drama in a previous post but at least I remember her cooking and having meals - even if they involved vegetables and whole wheat. That led to me questioning what will my kids associate with me and "cooking" - mac n cheese w/ hot dogs? Chicken dinos? (translation chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs) Turkey lunch meat, Kraft cheese slice rolled up in a tortilla with a side of Cheetos and mandarin oranges???

Sad truth is that I don’t cook. But the flip side of it is not that I can’t cook – because I can – it is that I am not a natural cook. I am a rule following cook. If the recipe calls for 1 cup – by golly I put in exactly one cup – no more no less. My mother in law teases me about my measuring. She thinks it is hilarious that I will use a knife blade to make sure that I scrape off any extra ingredient from my measuring cup so that only the required amount goes into the recipe. I do not deviate from what is written – doesn’t call for salt? Then I do not add salt. Chad would.

Chad is a freestyler in the kitchen. It is quite a show and usually an amazing result. He doesn’t crack open a recipe book or have a plan – he just starts pulling stuff out of the fridge and pantry and figures it out as he goes. He’ll throw in spices and oil and this and that and majority of the time dinner is really good. We call these meals his Concoctos. When we first started dating through when Z was young, we had Concocto for dinner often.

Kids and job has kept Chad out of the kitchen most days so it is left to me to heat up dinner. He did give me a four ingredient recipe cookbook for Christmas and it’s great and I have used it but nothing that is a signature dish. One I want the kids to remember I made for them.

I also use the working mom-no time excuse for their fast easy meals. While there really is truth to it, there are also work arounds to make sure my family gets a real meal – I just don’t use those options. I try to leave work everyday by 4:30 (usually ends up around 5pm) to go pick up Ry. Assuming no traffic issues, I get to her about 5:40ish. Then I go and pick up Z – get him about 6ish and we are home by 6:15 pm. Kids are starving and now I need to make dinner. When I cook, we usually do not eat until 7pm or later. If I microwave chicken dinos, dump canned green beans in a bowl, and cut up an apple – walah! Dinner is served in 15 mins.

My boss doesn’t understand. Her family has a home made meal every night of the week. The catch is she spends her entire Sunday cooking – she makes five meals for the week all on Sunday and freezes and refrigerates the food so she only has to heat it up that night. I really REALLY do not want to spending hours creating meals all day on Sunday – so many other fun things to do!

I did go through a phase where I would cook the next day’s dinner after the kids had gone to bed using my boss’ philosophy of just having to heating it up at dinner time. But then I was up late cooking, doing dishes (sort of!), and not having any time to do other things.

Today’s topic was probably intended to be just a random interesting fun non-stressful thing and I let it get in and twist into a self esteem buster. I really think I have a talent for that. I am not the cooking mom I want to be for my kids. I think it sucks that I never will be. I don’t want my grandkids to hear stories of cereal for dinner – I want them to ask for that fun meal their dad used to eat. My mother in law comes in and cooks her famous meatloaf and my kids eat it!! My picky kids eat it!

I am not the domestic crafty mom that can whip up a home made meal with all food groups represented while setting the table with hand crafted napkin rings and fresh bouquet of flowers as a center piece.

Ok now I am just being snarky and bitter. It is just easier some days to find all the ways I wish I was a better mom and person than it is to see what is going well. I just love my family so much and want them to have the best. Some sort of Donna Reed, Claire Huxtable, Elise Keaton, Mrs. C combo. Dear God even Roseanne cooked for her family!! Course Lorelei Gilmore was all about Chinese take out and I think she is kind of cool! And Rory seemed to turn out ok…

Digress, digress, digress.

After that Debbie Downer of an entry do you still want a recipe?? My standby go to recipe for a party is from my Mother in Law – Spinach Dip – super easy and goes with veggies, chips, or even a bread bowl.

1 cup of Mayo
1 cup of Sour Cream
1 pkg frozen spinach
1 can sliced water chestnuts
1 bunch green onions
1 TBSP Lemon Juice
1 TBSP Season Salt

Cook the spinach and mix with all of the other ingredients and you have a dip ready to go. I personally slice the water chestnuts even more so there are more to go around. It will also taste better is you make it and let it sit in the fridge for awhile before serving. Chad usually comes in after it has been in the fridge awhile and adds more lemon juice or season salt to get it just right...freestyling it.

Thank You, Britney Spears

2011-05-03T21:12:00.000-07:00

CMM Day 1: a favorite song
I guess I can’t put it off any longer- it is time that I, Chad, take part in this fantastical journey down memory lane. I hope that it is at least half as beneficial as those that have started before me. Y’all have been an inspiration… Let’s begin!

What first came to mind when I read this topic was “what, favorite song today? Last week?” How limiting… I can’t boil my life’s love of music down to one. I guess I could cheat and look at the play count in the iPod; but I think it is too biased to the present. I think I will ramble a bit; and then insert the influential bands and songs in brackets as I go. Songs with an Asterisk* are ‘finalists’. Z and R- this is not comprehensive; check whatever our current music collection database is. So here goes a scattershot answer:

STARTING OUT
My earliest popular music memory was ‘Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys and “Lucille” by Kenny Rogers. Not necessarily of my choosing; but they were played so much around me that I couldn’t help but sing along. Living in a small town put a limit on what I was exposed to. I know my parents had cooler stuff (In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby!) but it didn’t trickle down to me just yet.

Somehow, we all talked our parents into buying ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson; and then we all promptly held MJ cassette destructions when the popular train ran out. Being resourceful, I just recorded over mine…

MTV was just being born. When we went into town, I would find ways to take advantage of people that had cable. We would stay up and watch Friday Night Videos [Mr. Mister, Pet Shop Boys, Genesis, Bon Jovi, The Lost Boys Soundtrack, Peter Gabriel, INXS]; that was our only source out in the sticks. I still don’t know how I convinced Mom to buy Van Halen’s Jump; it was pretty racy for elementary school. One that didn’t survive was Wang Chung. Mom made me take it back to Target because the last tract contained every bad word and phrase in the Mom manual. Too bad for her I was already using most of them.

And then there was Dad. His musical influence was very subtle; very sneaky. From forcing us to listen to Evita* and “In the Hall of the Mountain King” on road trips to making Marty Robbins mix tapes [gunfighter ballads era] on the newfangled stereo, he laid a broad foundation that would help me appreciate a wider breadth of music. My favorite contribution of his is Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture* as performed by the London Philharmonic. If we ever got to our destination early, we would sit in the car to let it finish. It didn’t matter if we got weird looks. It was worth it.

Growing up on the edge of the desert had a way of limiting what we were exposed to. County music was ever present; I’d be lying if I said I ignored it. In fact, my first CD was Garth Brooks Ropin the Wind. I spent many a wedding dance in St. Ambrose Hall two-stepping to George, Garth, Randy, and Brooks and Dunn. Out of all of this rose one of my all time favorites: Garth Brook’s "The Dance"*. I’d like for it to be played at my funeral as it expresses my life’s philosophy. Sometimes it is better to leave it up to chance- to allow yourself to get lost, to risk a little… you’ll never know what was around that corner if you don’t. Almost always, it is well worth it. Someday that risk may bring my end; but I bet it was doing something worthwhile.

There was one (count it: 1) radio station in town that didn’t play country. Turns out that KIXY strictly filtered what they played to only the Top Pop. Really? Is that all there is? Time for rebellion! Thanks to Thomas Davis and his mix tapes, I discovered there was a lot more out there [Depeche Mode, New Order, Front 242]. A few occasionally made it through KIXY’s censors: bands such as Information Society, The Farm ["Altogether Now"], Crowded House, “Back to Life” by SoulIISoul, and a little song called "Edelweiss".

Even though Mrs. Ratliff over used him in theater class, the new age music of Ray Lynch stuck with me. His music creates worlds to explore…

I can’t finish the High school years without mentioning "Stand by Me"* by B.B. King. It bound our group of misfits together at the Shake Hands with Your Future camp at TTU. May Bud and the Smokers puff forever more… or just as long as the recording studios remain in malls. Oh. Wait-

COLLEGE
Finally in college, I DID discover that the hometown radio station was limiting. What everyone called old school retro was brand new to me. I could finally dump the mainstream for something interesting. My first roommate was heavily into random music, so that helped whet my appetite. [Toad the Wet Sprocket, The Church, Live (pre-stardom), Wire Train, Romeo+Juliet soundtrack, ] Being in college for the birth of grunge was awesome timing. It felt like we owned it! [NIN, Pearl Jam, Filter, Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden, misc Grunge] I luckily plugged into KTXT, Tech’s college radio, just before they pulled the plug on its soul. Back then, the DJ’s went out of their way to find the obscure and inventive so that they could blast it from the bell towers.

It seems each of my college friends had their own musical influence on me. My biggest debt is to Jeromy; he brought so much ‘out there’ stuff to me [Ten Hands, The Juliet Letters, Tank Girl Soundtrack, respect for Talking Heads, beginnings of ska and rockabilly]. Steve gave his Electronica, the beat line of Madonna’s “Justify My love”, and Bjork. Jett brought homespun do-it-yourself heavily influenced by Live and Radiohead. Somehow I stumbled into Cake and Dave Matthews Band from the frat boy trio; as much as I hate to admit it, they did benefit me after all.

Les Miserables came to Lubbock; I was instantly hooked. The movement and the spirit still haunt me to this day. If any of my friends happen to check out early, I think I would play “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” at the wake. Morbid? Perhaps. But with feeling…

Toward the end of college around 1996, Wheez, Dave, Greg, and I decided to hang out on the deck at the river-front bar in San Angelo. There was this new band playing that was fresh back from Nashville for a new start. The lead man was a bit annoying, but you could tell he was proud of what his boys could do. He finally stepped out of the way and let them shine. As we listened, we were amazed at the depth of talent. When Henry started his instrumental of “Little Wing”, I knew we had stumbled onto something great. Los Lonely Boys was born.

GRADUATION INTO THE WORKING WORLD
After College, I could finally afford the CD’s and concerts that I wanted. I spent a lot of time and money going to Dave Matthews Band concerts. Too bad DMB eventually sold out… Lucky for MK and me, it wasn’t before they released ‘Crush.’ Music was one of the initial binders of MK and I; we need to re-discover that as it brought so much joy to our dating.

I can’t say that I fell into any musical movement during this time, except maybe to resist the mainstreaming of Alternative. So I set out to find something different. [Neil Finn/Finn Brothers, Keane, Nada Surf, Thriftstore Cowboys: "Dirtied Your Knees", "Beneath the Shoes"; Matisyahu: "King Without a Crown" Live, Linkin Park (guilty pleasure), Postal Service, Blue October, Israel Kamakawiwo’ole: "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World"]. I think J.Lo had a career around then, I’m not certain.

I got the chance to see Rent- it was an incredible experience for me. It’s expression of pure emotion and commentary on the times resonated deeply with me. Well done.

While I was desperately trying to avoid the mainstream, too often it came to me. MK and I are fans of Josh Groban. “The Prayer” in particular always stirs me. It was a revelation for what I was looking for- it is okay to like something in the mainstream IF the performer has bona fide talent. Lest I forget: The Dixie Chicks… another guilty pleasure that I gained from MK. Thank you, dear…

KIDS
Being a parent, my kids are just a big of an influence on me as I to them. Out of all of their kids shows, I find myself humming "Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch theme", the weekly Phineas and Ferb tune, and anything from Sandra Boynton’s Philadelphia Chickens. The rest are the spawn of the devil. I shall not give them or their purple dinosaur any air time!

RELIGIOUS
Lately- I have come to admit the place that religious music has always played in my life. I am much better for having some in the mix. It has a way of centering me; getting me back on my path.

My fondest memories from Wall include how the St. Ambrose Men’s choir sang “Behold the Lamb of God” on Easter Sundays in the early ‘90’s [arr. Father Bob Dufford, S.J., Univ. of Dayton]. They also introduced me to“Lord, When you Came to the Seashore” and “On Eagles Wings”. I pause for both whenever and wherever they are played.

The Narayan family kept me in church during my early college years with how they sang “One Bread, One Body” in the small church at St. Elizabeth’s in the mid ‘90’s. [Michelle and Britta- is that right?!] I was so sad to see them go…

Raider Awakening brought me Jars of Clay ["World’s Apart"*] , "Love Remains" by Collin Raye, and “Just Wait*” by Blues Traveller. I rediscovered "Pie Jesu"* from Requiem. The CRHP community gave me Casting Crowns ["Lifesong"*, "And now my Lifesong Sings"*, "East to West"] and Third Day ["Revelation"*, "Born Again"]. I can’t think of a better tune for Lent than “Carry my Cross” by Third Day for cleansing and understanding what my Lord went through for me.

Singing O Holy Night. Yep- vanity moment here. Christmas is more special to me when I can perform this song. I love to sing; but I don’t have a consistent voice in order to do it often. Somehow, I rise to the challenge for this song. My favorite memory of this song is from Christmas 2003. MK had miscarried just a day before; so that put us in a funk as we drove to Kansas City. There was a cloud over Christmas that year… until we gathered around Carol and her piano Christmas night to sing carols. There was something healing about singing O Holy Night that night. It didn’t matter if I was out of tune; it was the best it ever sounded to me.

So- my favorite song is every one that ever moved me… the ones that touched my soul and told it to pause and listen… the ones that stood out as a work of art… the ones that were not processed for mass consumption. This brings me to Britney. To Britney Spears and all of the other crappy Pop princes and princesses: thank you for Pop music. Your work made me rebel to find something worth listening to.

Catherine Lavin Collins Leonard

2011-04-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

My Grandmother Leonard was the oldest of 8 children and came from a 100% Irish Catholic family we affectionately call the Collins Clan. She married James Leonard and had my dad in 1940 and another son Brian in 1946. My grandfather Leonard passed away from complications of pneumonia in 1948. Grandma went to work in the city to support her family. She sent my Uncle Brian to live with her parents in Wilkes Barre, PA and lived in the Oranges in NJ with my dad. She commuted every day into NYC and worked as a secretary. She never remarried -- dad implies that he would scare of any suitors (issues for therapist I am sure) and she found her solice at the Jersey Shore.

In 2004, my Grandmother Leonard (I called her Grandma-ma)turned 90. My dad arranged for a party to celebrate and also created a book for her full of memories and pictures he collected from the family. Yesterday he sent me a copy of what he wrote for the book. I love it - every word. Not just for the memories and stories but for the words with which he concludes the entry. My Grandma-ma passed away February 2007 and my father has not been the same. I think the following explains why:

Memories of Mom

I remember a little boy in a sailor suit with this beautiful woman. The little boy thought the necklace was real jewels.

I remember going to Brooklyn Navy Yard Hospital to see my new cousin. They would not let in the room so I left the waiting area and snuck outside. I then found my way to the window to Aunt Gloria’s room much to their surprise.

I remember Mom trying to console me when I cut through my brand new confirmation suit while trying to remove the tags. Of course, it was the night before the ceremony and no way to repair it properly.

I remember the night I put my wrist through a door window trying to get in the laundry room. It was time to add the bleach to the wash. I walked back to the apartment streaming blood with the jar of Clorox in the other hand. Uncle Bob yelled “Get to the kitchen sink - you are tracking blood on the rug.” We went down the street to the doctor’s. While the doctor was cleaning up the wound, Mom had me practice my Latin. I just become an altar boy. The doctor hit something and it hurt. I then cussed in Italian and Mom said that’s not altar boy Latin.

I remember my friend’s wolf whistling at Mom from the park when I was walking her to confession. They didn’t believe it was my Mother until she verified it. They thought it was some hot babe I had met.

I remember when Mom found a cigarette in my scout uniform after returning from a camping trip. She said something like, “what is this?” I gave a smart ass answer and she hit me on the shoulder. I laughed at her since it did not hurt. She then said, “stand here.” She went and got a wooden hanger and hit me on the collar bone which drove me to the floor. I never laughed at her hitting me after that.

I remember some of the guy’s whistling at my eagle ceremony because Mom’s skirt kept climbing up and showing her slip as she walked up on stage. She was not aware of it until later.

I remember meeting her when she got back from Rome and we all went to early Mass at St. Pat’s with the bottles of wine clinking all the way down the aisle.

I often wondered how she weathered some of the ill winds fate has directed her way. I now know it is because of her faith and her family. I can remember when she used to say her prayers in the bathroom because she could have a light on to read her novenas. That way the light would not disturb Brian and me. The was no door on the bedroom.

I can remember her being so sick she could not get out of bed but she did get up and go to Sunday Mass. The only time I remember her not making it to Mass was after major dental surgery. Her face was so swollen she could not open her eyes. Uncle Bob called the doctor.

As for the Collins family, I am sure one bathroom and eight children help the “bonding”. The Big Depression and World War II had to bring the family closer. There was less to share but enough to go around. I remember Pop saying how lucky he was in that he had a job that paid $8.00 a week. Gram baking pies and bread, making relish and canning vegetables. As for the war, the “boys” were in it and that meant lots of prayers everyday.

I remember in later years at 326, the family praying the rosary after dinner. It seemed such a natural thing to do.

My memories are many but most of all was Mom’s love ever present and enfolding. It warded off the monsters under the bed, guided during the growing years and sustained me during the years in Vietnam.

It is one of life’s drawbacks that you can never give love back in the same quantity as a Mother gives her child. I will be eternally grateful that God was so good to me by letting her be my Mom.

Elementary Watson

2011-04-26T19:22:00.000-07:00

Day 20: A hobby of mine

For some reason the word hobby congers up images of stamp collecting or model making -- both of which are very legitimate hobbies but of absolutely no interest to me. I briefly considered soccer as a hobby but to me soccer is more than a hobby (or at least it used to be). I think I am just hung up on the word hobby. Say it over and over and it is kind of annoying - hobby hobby hobby hobby. I don't collect anything nor have any interest in much that is artsy crafty. I actually looked up the definition to see if I was inspired and found this: an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or relaxation and not as a main occupation.

What does this trash magazine reading (love US Weekly and Glamour), Rom Com Sandra Bullock loving, TV watching, Harry Potter reading girl like to do with her spare time for pleasure? My mind went all sorts of ways with this question but keeping in mind this is for my children I went with the nerdy route.

I do puzzle games. Not the jigsaw kind but the electronic kind - Sudokus, Free Cell, and I am currently addicted to Sherlock. I play to the point of annoying my husband. Sadly the Sherlock game on my phone actually tabulates the total amount of time spent playing the game since I got it and I have played over 25 hours worth of Sherlock on my phone. I got the game in March.

I find it very odd about myself that I am such a non-cerebral person that I get such a kick out of the brainiac challenges. I actually do all the mensa puzzles in the back of the American Way magazine when I fly.

This will shock the heck out of all of you -- On the GRE my strongest score where I only missed a few questions was actually the logic section. I scored frighteningly higher on it than on the other two sections. CRAZY right??!

Please do not mistake that I think I am some genius or have delusions of secretly being a rocket scientist in disguise. I just laugh at the irony of me being such a fan of the fluffy and yet choosing to spend my time working my brain on puzzles.

I Don't Think I Really Answered the Question

2011-04-25T19:59:00.000-07:00

Day 19: A fun memory

Truth be told I have been procrastinating on this one. I just can't come up with one. Not that I don't have fun memories -- I do -- lots actually but trying to translate them into a blog AND make them interesting is quite a challenge for me. I am also dreading the true funny story -- REALLY don't know what to do there. OK...lets deal with today's post.

Hmmm...I'll try the random rambling approach that seems to suit me...

My first memory -- riding in the back seat of my Uncle Brian's car with my cousin Becky. He pulled over to pick up a hitch hiker. The hitch hiker was an African American guy with a humongous afro. I remember the afro actually touching the roof of the car. Later in life when I told my uncle and dad this story - they guess I was about 3.

Humilitating childhood memory -- toss up between two:
1. Got up in the middle of my first communion (front row joe) to go to the bathroom which was in the back of the parish hall. The whole congregation thought I was sick.
2. In middle school I had a soccer game on Halloween and at practice before my team decided that we should come made up in Halloween make up. Sadly, I was the only one that showed up in a painted made up face. No one else did.

Memories that make me smile:
- My bi-level haircut in jr high -- really thought I was the stuff
- Fish Fry's during Lent at St. Annes
- My baby pink Jessica McClintock dress and Julia Roberts big hair for Junior Prom -- the prettiest I had felt to that point in my life -- the pictures are hilarious! God bless the 80's
- Working summers at Worlds of Fun
- My 21st birthday...well what little I remember of it...21 shots for a 21 year old girl. No Taco Bell for me that night.
- Float trips down the Buffalo River in AR with my WOF friends
- Raider Awakening...16, 17, 18, & 19...

Not to be to mushy and disgusting but most of the trips I have taken with Chad have been wonderfully fun memories:
- Arizona and Canyon DeChelly - our first out of state trip I think
- Banff, Alberta and eating dinner at 10 pm when the sun is still up
- Waco and the Cotton Palace - Happy Anniversary! :)
- Italy!! Oh and the rest of Europe. Chad got to show me where he lived and show me "his" Italy.
- All our trips to NJ and PA - Espinoza's and Sizzle Pi
- McDonald Observatory - Chad showed me the stars like I have never seen them before
- St. Johns...one of my favorites for more reasons I can list

Soooo back to a fun memory. Really not sure what to put - our family vacation to Sea World and South Padre in 2010, our wedding, going to Silver Dollar City in 1982, going to my Grandma Lee's house, going to college -- I guess it boils down to I am very blessed and have too many to pick from. For that I am grateful.

Aliens vs Midgets

2011-04-20T12:35:00.000-07:00

Little bit of drama in the Martin household the week of April 10th. It started like this:

Sunday the 10th:
I have a little earache. Very curious – I don’t recall ever having an earache ever in my life.

Monday the 11th:
I wake up and my ear still hurts but it’s an ear ache – I can handle it. Midday my boss is annoyed telling me it is an ear infection and to go to the doctor. By 3:30 I can’t handle it and go to the doctor. He says – “yes it is an ear infection caused by a viral upper respiratory infection. Nothing to do but manage the pain since it is a virus.” He prescribes some hydrocodone and sends me on my way.

Tuesday the 12th:
Not great. I am chaperoning Z’s field trip to Safety Town (way cool place by the way!!). The hydrocodone doesn’t seem to work so I take ibuprofen on top of it. I some how survive the 2 hr field trip and head home instead of work. The pain has intensified to something I can’t even explain. All I keep thinking is – don’t babies get ear infections all the time? Am I such a wimp that I can’t handle what a baby can??? Get home take more hydrocodone and within 20 mins I start vomiting. YAY. So Tuesday afternoon is more than hell for me – my ear hurts so bad nothing will help – not laying down, not standing up, not sitting down, not being still, not moving around and I am still throwing up. I believe I actually got delirious from the pain.

I throw in the towel about 7pm and make Chad take me to the ER. He packs up the kids and me and off we go – if being at home hurt – the car ride was the hell express – every bump, turn, sound – agonizing. We get to the hospital and I am so close to relief that it feels like hours before they see me. At some point LuLu and Damon pick the kids up (in all seriousness – Leigh Anne I have no words to truly express how grateful I am that you came without a pause. THANK YOU – I love you!!)

The PA comes in asks what the problem is and then looks in my ear – he then tugs and says does this hurt and pokes and says does this hurt – is he kidding????? I am in my freakin pajamas, smelling like vomit, weeping from the pain – YES it hurts – quit touching my ear! He then asks “when did the fever start?” I can only imagine the look I gave him at that point. I say “I have a fever?” He said it was 101 and when did it start. I don’t think I cussed at him out loud but in mind I screamed “My head is going to explode – I have spent the last 8 hours vomiting – you really think I stopped to take my F’n temperature??????”

Blah blah blah…so the nurse gives me an IV (after only two attempts which is impressive since I was so dehydrated) and gives me some Demerol. OOoooohh I like me some Demerol. Seriously within seconds my ear pain was gone and I just wanted to sleep. So I got an IV of antibiotics because the ER doc says I have swimmer’s ear (really???) and a middle ear infection and it is bacterial not viral and about an hour later another shot of the Demerol. I am sent home.

Wednesday the 13th:
We get home about 1:30 am with new drugs and my ear is now leaking fluid. Yes gross. I take the medicine and do not awake (other than for potty and medication breaks) until 4:00 pm Thursday.

Thursday the 14th:
My ear is still literally dripping yellow grossness but I feel so much better that I tell God I will walk around for the rest of my life with a cotton ball in my ear to catch the goo if I do not ever have to feel like that again.

Friday the 15th:
Go to work – still dripping but feeling OK. Go to the ENT for a follow up and he looks in and says oh you busted your ear drum – that is why you are leaking. He said that it would close up soon and all will be sunshine and rainbows. And the leaking did stop on Monday the 18th.

So I tell you this VERRRRRY long story for two reasons:
1. To justify why I haven’t blogged in a while
2.Because the IV left an almost perfectly 2” x 2” square bruise on the middle of my forearm which is the REAL introduction to this blog.

The WEIRDEST stuff happens to aboynamedstu. I refer to Stuart a lot in this blog for many reasons, one of which is I admire his style and blog, and another is because the craziest things happen in his life. He recently had a post that involved a cashier calling his friend a very inappropriate name and the situation that followed still makes me shake my head. (please read it if you get the chance Boyz in the Hood ) If I didn’t know better, I would say he makes it up but the best part of it all is that he doesn’t!!!!

Anyway, the post lead me to comment to Stuart that he really has the funniest/bizarre/craziest stuff happen in his world. He responded saying that crazy stuff happens to all of us but he just knows how to mine it and retell it. Which I will agree with him but only to a point.

I questioned myself - do I keep my head down and miss the funniest/bizarre/craziest that happens around me? Do I just need to pay attention more to my surroundings and I’ll see how it happens to me too? Do I just need to shop in Richardson?

So I did a little experiment. This bruise on my arm really is odd. It is seriously almost a perfect square. I start creating stories in my head of what weird event could have caused this bruise. I want to make it completely outlandish. I started going down the alien route – I had been abducted by aliens and I fought against them so much they had to use a weird restraint and it left a bruise. But I couldn’t get the story to flow.

Friday morning at work, I was refilling my water bottle when CoWorker A came in, saw the bruise, and asked what happened. I was so excited here was my chance – I looked down at the bruise and started “Well, as you know on Wed nights I referee midget wrestling…” when CoWorker B (who knew the truth) came in, saw me pointing to my bruise, and said “isn’t that the weirdest bruise – maybe it was the IV tape? You could be allergic” and blew my story. CoWorker A was briefly confused and then said oh the ear thing, etc.

I was disappointed. For the rest of the weekend, I was as obvious about the bruise as I could be. I made sure every cashier saw it and every parent at the soccer game saw it and no one asked about it.

I received opportunity number 2 on Monday. We were having issues with our ID cards and the security system so I was stuck briefly on an elevator with CoWorker C. She said “OMG – what on earth happened to your arm??” With a straight face I said, “I was refereeing midget wrestling this weekend, I do it to make some extra cash, and one of the midgets got out of control and accidentally took me down and stepped on me with his boot heel. It was wild.”

She did nothing. Not a smile or laugh, not a “are you crazy?” look, not even a “you don’t have to be a rude because I asked bitch!” look. The elevators opened and she started with “this is so weird that our cards don’t work – should we go to security?”

I told Chad about it that night. He thought it was funny that I actually told the story and even more hilarious that I would use the un-pc word midget rather than little person (little person wrestling doesn’t sound right) and he figures CoWorker C thinks I am rude.

My point is this:

I truly believe that had this scenario been played out in Stuart’s life that he would have gotten some reaction out of someone. I realize that it can even be awkward to ask someone about a random bruise especially if you don’t know them but I bet if Stuart had it – 30 people would have asked him “WTH?”

I am saddened that my little non-scientific experiment didn’t yield the results I had hoped to. Oh well. I will just keep reading Stuart’s blog and enjoying the entertainment that is his life.

You know though, my bruise is still kind of visible – maybe I just need to head to Richardson and do a little shopping with my arm up!

I Don't Remember Z This Tiny

2011-04-07T19:28:00.000-07:00

Day 18: A baby photo

I have spent the last hour going through all of our 2005 and 2006 photos searching for just the right one of Z. While I didn't know what photo I would post, I did know I wanted it to be of Zachary. Chad said I should post one of me but I really don't have anything to say about the picture other than the date. If I post one of Z, I have lots to say. I got completely sucked in to the pictures (Chad sat with me for awhile) and we laughed and got sentimental. After an hour I just decided since I make up the rules for this challenge, I will post more than one.

Over six years ago, this beautiful amazing little soul was given as a gift to our family:

MK meeting Z for the first time

No books, no classes, no advice can prepare you for that moment - becoming a parent. Cliche but true. I was overwhelmed with love, worry, adoration, fear, responsibility, and awe. Truth be told while these emotions do ebb and flow - I still have each of them when I look at my kids.

I was such a mess with Z. It is ALMOST funny thinking back on it and of course seeing the pictures tonight brought it all back:

* The car ride home from the hospital - I sat in the back seat in case he might need something during the brief ride home and Chad didn't drive one mile over the speed limit.

* His bassinet was in the "far" corner of our bedroom. I was worried I wouldn't hear him if there was a problem or if he stopped breathing. So after his first night at home, I moved his bassinet to be flush against my side of the bed. My head could pop up and seem him as often as I wanted.

* His first bath - OMG -- how did he survive?! Chad - don't get the embilical cord wet! Chad - he's cold cover him up! Chad - you didn't wash his neck rolls! Chad - did you get all the soap rinsed? Zachary screamed the entire time which freaked me out. The pictures are only funny now then I was horrified.

* My mom stayed with us the first week he was born and was sweet enough to make us dinner so we could have date night in our kitchen while she babysat in the living room. I actually made my mother put the monitor base next to Zachary while I had the receiver in the kitchen. Our house was 1800 sq ft and the living room was right off the kitchen -- I am sure I insulted my mom with that request.

* Nursing. Ugh. What a production. I made my husband shell over lots of money for a lactation consultant. My mom even paid for one visit. Z didn't latch properly so I was trying to nurse for about ten minutes a feeding, then when he didn't latch I would give him a bottle, burp him, put him down, and then pump for 20 mins. It was emotionally exhausting. I was hysterical about it. I even poured water into unused diapers, heated them in the microwave, and put them on my breasts to encourage milk production. Seriously. By the way not my idea -- it was from the lacation consultant. Finally at 5 1/2 weeks, he got it. And my life grew a heck of a lot easier.

* When my mat leave was over, I told Chad I didn't think I could go back to work. How could I let someone else raise my child? What kind of mother would I be if I put this life in the care of another? I told Chad we had to come up with a plan. He talked me off the ledge and said that why don't we plan for me to go back now and when kiddo #2 came along, I could stay at home with both of them. The distraction worked. I would have been the suckiest of all sucky stay at home moms. I applaud SAHMs - I think they are wonderful but I am not one of them.

The difference between Zachary's birth and coming home and Rylee's is quite amusing:
* Rode in the front seat home
* OK she did sleep next to my bed still
* While she did cry too during her first bath, I am actually smiling and laughing in the pictures. No looks of horror on my face
* We actually LEFT the house for a date - See ya' MiMi! Good luck with those kids!
* She latched first thing in the recovery room at the hospital
* Never even crossed my mind once that I wanted to stay at home -- suckiest of sucky remember?

This post didn't exactly go as I thought. I really wanted to tell the story of Z's birth but it really should come from Chad's perspective. I had too many drugs -- everything was la-la and fuzzy for me.

Rather than A Baby Photo here are Some Baby Photos:

Those are stork bites on his eye lids. They faded but you could still see them until he was about four when he would get hot or cry or mad.

Chad took a series of photos in rapid succession so if you flip through them really fast it looks like they are moving. This photo is one in the series.

Adore this photo -- which it hadn't turned out so dark and grainy. My sweet Martin men taking a nap. LOVE IT.

This photo was my stock photo for awhile sending to anyone I knew whether they wanted to see it or not. I even sent it to the hospital (yes I was little coo-coo)with a thank you note to the nursing staff.

Here is the baby photo - Introducing Zachary James Martin, born at 9:32 am on Thursday, February 17, 2005. Weighing 7lbs 10oz and 20" long. Healthy boy and proud parents.

We still are.

MK's Fam - aren't we cute?!

2011-04-06T20:26:00.000-07:00

Day 17: A photo of my family

This picture is a RIOT! I am thinking I am six or seven -- that makes Jamey two or three which means the year is about 1978 or 1979. In turn my mom is 28/29 (10 years younger than I am now) and my dad is 38/39 - my age right now. It is kind of weird for me in that Marty McFly kind of way. Realizing my dad in my current age in the photo and trying to imagine what was going on in his brain. He certainly seemed to the 1st grader me much more mature and responsible then than I feel right now. And my mom?? She hadn't even turned 30 yet - I was living a very different life than hers when I was 28!

And here we are at another example of why this blog is important. Someday when the kids are older (like out of the house older not teenagers older) they will read this blog and hopefully have a better understanding of their parents. They can see us more than rule makers, disciplinarians, and dream killers -- they will know we have fears, doubts, and want them to be happy. They will know that we loved them with a passion and intensity that comes from parents. They will also see we are very human. It is a shocking discovery when that happens but I am hoping their aha moment brings them understanding.

So dearest Rylee and Zachary -- here is our sweet little family:

This is from Father's Day 2010 in the traditional Father's Day pose at Prince of Peace except I am actually in this photo - usually I am not. I am 37, Daddy is 36, Z is 5 and Rylee is not quite 2. I love our family.

The juxtaposition of the two photos is mind blowing for me -- I realize not for anyone else but the girl in photo 1 and the woman in photo 2 can not possibly be the same person. It is wild how I became the parent in the photo. At least the clothes in the Martin family photo look good.

MK's Food Ramblings

2011-04-06T17:18:00.000-07:00

Day 16: A favorite food

I have been procrastinating on this entry. Favorite food??? I realize that the point of the exercise is creativity and there really is no right or wrong way to answer the challenge but favorite food? Can there be an interesting favorite food blog post? OK yes there can be -- just not written by me.

I even discussed this with Chad ahead of time which I haven't done with any other challenge posts (I let him be as surprised as you!) because I was annoyed. Food is very situational and to pick one of my favorites seems kind of boring and impossible. Whether picking a very specific item Sizzle Pi T-Rex pizza or deciding between Mexican and Indian - my tastes change based on the day and the moment.

I looked at Chad and scrunched my face and used a weird voice and said "one of my favorite foods is buttercream icing and vanilla cake. Now let the oooing and ahhing over the interesting blog post begin." I sensed he was not amused and I said "I can't think of a funny post related to a favorite food." He said it didn't have to be funny. I said but it should be interesting.

He suggested trying nostalgia. OK...memories of food...hhhmmm...Peach Nehi comes to mind. Loved Peach Nehi. Makes me think of summers with my aunt in Claremore, OK. My mom made whole wheat pizza most every Friday growing up -- I liked that. My mom also made fried spaghetti that was definitely a favorite.

But my childhood is tainted by the heath food kick my mom went on when I was little. I do not remember when it actually started or when it stopped but it feels like my whole childhood was about no sugar, no salt, no white flour, and did I say no sugar??? We ate NutriGrain cereal for breakfast i.e. bran flakes, had GNC peanut butter on whole wheat bread for lunch, carob covered bananas for snack, and salad with radishes for dinner. If you don't know what GNC peanut butter is let me enlighten you. It is smashed peanuts and that is about it. When you open the container there is about an inch of oil at the top and you have to stir it before you use it. And you don't know what carob is? Fake chocolate. Fake not sweet chocolate. Gross fake not sweet chocolate.

Our Christmas stockings had oranges and apples. Every kid's Christmas dream.

When I would stay the night with my friend Kat, I would use any excuse to eat cereal there -- she had ALL the good ones - Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops, Cookie Crisp. Even more pathetic, I would give my little brother money and he would go to the store near our house and buy sugar cereals. We would hide it under my bed so my mom wouldn't find it.

I remember only two trips to McDonalds from my childhood - once in the summer before first grade for my party and once in 5th grade for a field trip. However, eating out was very important to my dad. He felt it forced Jamey and me to learn how to behave in public. We went to nicer places like this restaurant called Plums down the road or another restaurant on a hill - I thought it was called Shadow Mountain but I think that is actually a rehab facility -- where I have a vivid memory of Jamey just tilting his head back and going to sleep - mouth open and all. I dreaded these nights. They took forever and the adults never talked to the kids. I would get so excited when the coffee arrived because I knew it meant dinner was almost over and we could go home.

My mom also packed green bell peppers in my lunch. Come on Mom! What on earth were you thinking??? They made my locker stink so badly every day and they were warm and wilty by lunch time -- do you really think I ate them?? You would have thought I would have learned to pull them out before school and throw them away instead I just moved all my other stuff in to another locker and kept my lunch in the original.

When I was on my own after college, I actually started buying jars of creamy peanut butter and having a REAL PB&J as often as possible. Not because I was poor but because Jif creamy peanut butter tasted like heaven. One of my roommates was put off by my peanut butter habit but she drank pickle juice with salt so I feel like there was no room for judging.

I am not a big seafood gal either. What sealed the deal is when we were in Italy the summer of 2004 we stopped in the Cinque Terre area and had dinner in a beautiful Italian coast town. Being on the coast, the dishes were all seafood. I must also mention I was about 8 weeks pregnant and nauseous hit randomly but hard. So we order our meals and they waiter sets them in front of us -- Chad's fish and my prawns were not just whole but had the eyeballs and antenna still attached. Oh my gosh I am gagging just writing about this. UGH UGH UGH -- Chad is lucky I did not vomit on his shoes. I just haven't been able to really do seafood since. I also don't eat Subway -- not because of fish but because of the same trip and morning sickness -- ick!

It seems I have turned this into Day 16: MK's Least Favorite Food. Let me see if I can salvage this post. Other than seafood, there isn't a particular type of food I stay away from other than maybe exotic -- I haven't eaten bugs or brains or cow's liver and have no need to. I craved cookies and cream shakes when pregnant with Zachary and store bought in the gallon jug chocolate milk with Rylee. Still can do the shakes but I don't care for chocolate milk. OK OK OK -- trying to stay with the positive:

I could go with the cheesy answer - one of my favorite foods is anything I eat with my family or anything Chad cooks but that really isn't the mood I am in tonight.

Let's try this - I love food and despite my long list of dislikes, I really am flexible. I have a humongous sweet tooth and love breakfast for dinner. Spinach dip and chips and queso are my favorite snacks. I love food from the east coast (talking to you Espinozas) everything bagel w/ egg and cheese, taylor ham, jersey subs, Texas wieners, Sizzle Pi, and disco fries. But can you beat TexMex?? That is a tough call. Tell you what, the next time you want to grab dinner together, I would love to go but you have to pick the place.

It is my song...

2011-04-05T07:00:00.000-07:00

And hide the rule book throw it in the waste
Look strong
Like you belong cause you do belong
Whether right or wrong you belong

I'm on your side if you fail at least you tried
To keep your aching celebrating wonder making heart alive
Yeah and pride don't keep it all inside
Don't keep your aching celebrating wonder making heart alone
Write you own song

So here's a preview shove it under old-new
Or call it rock or pop or Bach or fuck
Goddamn where did we go wrong
Now there's a catergory for every song

Yeah we only want to sing when we want to
Yeah we only want a dream we can flaunt to
Yeah we only want to fly by the side making love to the rhythm be a Jekyll and a Hyde
Yeah we only want a field we can run through
Yeah we only want a beat we can drum to
Yeah we only want to fly by the side making love to the rhythm be a Jekyll and a Hyde

Gonna wake up strong ya we're all gonna wake up strong...
Justin Furstenfeld

CMM - thanks for doing this with me...life - all of it...never was a luckier girl

But Angelina Jolie Could Turn Me into a Lesbian

2011-04-04T19:57:00.000-07:00

Day 15: My celebrity crush

I already answered this one in the beginning of the challenge. My celebrity crush is Sandra Bullock. I would love to hang out with her for the weekend - sit on her porch in Austin - drink a beer and chill the whole time.

Seeing that I have an aversion to short blogs, I will continue with: I am a legitimate four degrees away from Sandra Bullock. In October of 2009, I met and became friends with someone whose son is good friends with one of Sandra's long time friends. I was so giddy when I figured that out -- I call my friend LK and she can call her son and then he makes a call and then one more call and there is my crush.

I would NEVER EVER EVER in a million years even jokingly say anything to LK. I have been overly sensitive (shocking) about her very publicly known son. I try to avoid talking about him in fact which is stupid because I ask my other friends about their kids but this just seems different.

However at one girl's night gathering, after a couple of glasses of prosecco, mention to LK that I heard on the radio she was going to be a grandma again. She laughed and said she was excited but please don't ask the other question. I had no clue what she was talking about and she said the "marriage" question - she didn't know if he was going to get married. I told I didn't care but that it felt weird to hear this news on the radio and then see her son on People magazine or US weekly. She was so gracious and said she was used to it. I felt like a total stupid dork.

Since that evening, I have never brought it up again. I ask about her grandkids and her other "bonus" kids (her words) but not him. Ridiculous I know -- over analyzing I know but I won't do it. I felt cheezy and trashy while I am sure she didn't give it another thought.

Unless there is more prosecco involved then I may mention Sandra.

MK's "Old" In-Laws

2011-04-04T19:42:00.000-07:00

Day 14: An old photo

So my in-laws would NOT be pleased that I classified this as an "old" photo. I thought about googling something from way back when but it didn't have any meaning. I did find a high school photo of my great Aunt Alice (from the early 1930's) on the internet (WILD!!!). I did contemplate putting my mom's parents wedding photo or I have this picture of my Grandma Leonard and she is STUNNING!

However I decided on this one. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to frame this picture and put it out but my MIL would KILL me...really she would:

Such greatness is this photo!! Kind of Bonnie and Clyde-ish if you will. It is probably 1967 or 1968 before they were married. I am blessed with fantastic in-laws and this picture makes me laugh out loud everytime. Can't you just picture yourself hanging out with them?! Can't you just see this framed on my wall next to the Olan Mills photos?? LOVE IT!

MK Wants a lot of Things...and a Pony

2011-04-01T18:06:00.000-07:00

Day 13: Something I want to buy

New chairs for the dining room
Skydiving lessons
A convertible car for playing
An African safari
A size six dress
A new bedroom suite
A six week Spanish immersion class
A pool that is 100% safety guaranteed -- no little kid worries
Housekeeping service (I'll throw in lawn service for Chad)
Stylish AND comfortable show shoes
Brazilian Blowouts every eight weeks
Airplane flying lessons
Vacation in Australia

But currently saving for college tuition and retirement suck up my extra cash so the above items will just stay on my Christmas list for now.

MK Doesn't Buy Exciting Things

2011-03-31T17:48:00.000-07:00

Day 12: Something I Bought Recently

I have to say this entry is so far my least favorite of the challenge. Thinking over my latest purchase is not an exciting task...groceries, gas, Pizza Hut, etc. Even if I expand my "recently" to be as broad as the time frame of the photo from Day 11, I am not sure that anyone will enjoy a blog about it.

We did buy a new house in Dec 2009 - that is big and causes a blip on the interesting scale.

Got an iPhone last fall -- I have to say that it's pretty cool. Love to video chat with the kiddos (and Chad of course) while I am on the road.

I have been introduced to this drink called Spark. I bought a big old tub of it and I really like it. It has a CRAZY TON of vitamin B but the real reason I got it -- caffeine. Yep -- one serving has 120 mg of caffeine and for those of you that don't know -- one coke has 30 mg -- a cup of coffee has 60 mg. So I just pour this miracle powder into my bottle of water in the morning and I am set for the day. Couldn't tell you the last time I bought a DDP at work! Caffeinated water -- why couldn't I have invented it?

We bought our plane tickets to St Maarten's to celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary -- let the count down begin. Actually aside from the fact that it is a beach vacation (my favorite!), I am proud to say that this will probably be the cheapest thing we do for awhile. We used airline miles for the tickets and only had to pay a processing fee. We are going with the Espinozas (who will also be celebrating 10 years while we are actually there) and Jess' aunt has a house in St. Maarten so we don't have to pay for lodging.

And that is the glorified version of rifling through my wallet staring at my receipts.

I think tomorrow's entry will be just as riveting.

Current Picture of MK

2011-03-30T11:36:00.000-07:00

Day 11: A Photo of Me Taken Recently

What is your definition of recently? I fudged on the 10 years ago photo so I guess I will fudge on the "recently" photo.

Chad captured this moment when I obviously didn't know. I have on no make up, my hair is a mess, and I am wearing an ugly shirt. Rylee (who is about four months in this picture) is not in a super cute outfit and she has the paci in her mouth. If I had known Chad was going to take a picture, I would have put a stop to it. I am so glad I didn't know.

I love this picture. I was exhausted and apparently so was she. I was back at work but still nursing in the middle of the night so me dozing when she did was common.

Poor Z, the first born, was not allowed many opportunities like these little naps. "If you rock them to sleep or let them fall asleep in your arms, they will never learn to sleep on their own!" Oh sweet boy I am sorry for both of us that I felt compelled to listen to that advice and put you in your crib at the first sign you were tired. We both missed out my little love. (As a side note - Z does sleep a heck of a lot better than Rylee -- personality or early formed sleep habits? Hmmmm)

When I look at this picture, I can still feel the warmth of her head against my cheek. I feel the soft almost velvetness of her hair on my skin. I feel her little back rising and falling with each breath. I hear the little sighs and binkie noises that come with babies sleeping. Beautiful little one.

MK Ten Years Ago

2011-03-29T17:11:00.000-07:00

Day 10: A Photo of Me Taken Over Ten Years Ago

I am cheating just a hair on this one. Technically this photo is 9 years, 7 months, and four days old but I am saying it is close enough - it will be 10 years August 25, 2011.

This picture captures one of the most amazing days of my life. I smiled like that ALL day long. It was more than “I was a bride” or “I felt like a princess” or the most annoying phrase “It’s MY day” (really? Is there not someone else involved????) I was so excited, overjoyed, thrilled, and stunned that I was lucky enough to marry Chad. I still have days where I wake up with the same feeling – how is it that God picked me out of everyone else to get to be married to Chad???!

God was there too. It was practically tangible – like I could reach out and touch Him or feel His embrace. He was present at our wedding. I remember standing by myself while my parents went to light the unity candle and waiting for my grand entrance, listening to Ave Maria and staring out at the fountain. My heart beating out of my chest – not from nerves but from utter happiness. It was in this moment I first felt Him. He was so close filling me with peace and hope and I could feel Him smiling as if He were just as excited as I was.

Be skeptical or say I am crazy – I frankly don’t care. He was there for Chad and me. He walked with me – He joined us together – He was there.

I work with some people that are not particularly fond of their spouses most days. I get teased quite a bit for having a fairy tale husband. It really grates on my nerves. I do think I may lose it one day and tell them “sorry their lives suck and yes I have a fantastic husband so neener neener neener – I am not going to feel bad about it.”

My husband is loving, thoughtful, creative, generous, sensitive, and smart. He also can be terse, moody, smug, and impatient. As a whole person he is beautiful and amazing – I love the whole entire package. I see the good and not as good in him and love him even more. Is he perfect – HELL NO – but he is most certainly without a doubt perfect for me.

Ten years ago, I would say we were the yin and yang – fitting snugly together like puzzle pieces with our strengths and weaknesses complimenting each other. As we have grown and changed over the last decade, the division lines have changed in our little yin/yang circle and it is slowly changing to gray. Not meaning we are one person – not at all but that we have learned to support and help each other more seamlessly. We are also more flexible and fluid in our relationship and have learned from our experiences.

I can not believe it has been 10 years. A decade. A wonderful, fascinating, and enlightening decade. Crazy how it feels tonight. Crazy how you make it alright love. With each moment the more I love you.

A Shiner Sounds Good Right About Now

2011-03-28T14:11:00.000-07:00

I travel for work. I am gone usually about five weeks of the year split across the twelve months. It really isn’t too bad – other than the self-induced guilt I feel for leaving my ultra supportive husband and two sweet innocent children.

Life before this job was worse – I traveled probably 50% of the time. I could be on the road five weeks at a time only coming home on weekends to do laundry and fly out again. One time in what can only be described as utter absurdity, I was planning a show in Vegas and another client asked me to manage their show which was just a few days later in the same venue. I had already booked my travel for the first show so I investigated changing my hotel and flight for the second. It turned out it was cheaper to actually fly home and book a second ticket. So I flew home from the first show on Tuesday and turned around on Wednesday and flew back to Vegas and checked into the same hotel I checked out of the day before. Almost comical.

WOW – that was quite a tangent. Now back to our story. Being in the trade show business there is this phrase tossed around – “Code of the Road.” Essentially meaning “What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.” I hate it. I know I am uptight but this goes beyond my uptightness. The way some of my colleagues behave on the road is embarrassing and disgusting. Am I judging? Absolutely. Just because you are on a trip for business without your spouse doesn’t mean your marriage vows don’t count. Just because the company is picking up the tab doesn’t mean you have to drink yourself to oblivion and be unable to function the next day at your JOB! I bring this up because it seems to be an expectation that we (those in the trade show business) go out and party while at a show.

I have just returned from 8 days on the road. Most of the staff went out on Friday to celebrate getting our show open but I chose not too. Chad asked me if I was the only fuddy duddy on the trip – for the record I was not. I didn’t go because I was spent. The week before I left, I worked long days and then at the show my days were generally 10 to 12 hrs long. At dinner (which was at 8pm after starting work at 7am), trying to psych myself up for going out so I wouldn’t be a killjoy, I found myself on the verge of tears. I wasn’t fighting back tears because something was wrong or my feelings were hurt. I was just tired. I could not dig deep enough to find the energy to go to the bar with the staff. I hated it but I just couldn’t.

One of our vendors confronted me. “Why don’t you drink? You never drink. Why don’t you ever drink?” I have to say I was stunned, pissed, and unsure of how to respond. I mumbled “I drink but I am just tired.” I sounded like some high school student trying to deflect peer pressure instead of replying with something like “what a crappy intrusive inaccurate ignorant question to ask jackass!” I was seething after that – what if I was an alcoholic? What if I had a medical issue? It wasn’t any of his freaking business.

But my beloved husband always helps me process. He pointed out that perhaps my over reaction to the question was because maybe the vendor hit too close to home. Chad said that while saying I never drink is not true – saying I rarely drink is completely accurate.

My first thought in my head after Chad’s statement was defensive – recalling a situation that happened in January at my last show where I did drink at the staff dinner and although I did not get drunk I still ended up throwing up in the sink (classy right?!) in my hotel room the next morning while trying to pack to head to the airport. Then as if I am being punished for my poor choice the evening before, I have to sit next to our director of HR on the flight home. She looked at me and said that I didn’t look well and maybe I was catching something. I tried to eat a bagel to keep my stomach in check but could only take one bite for fear of getting sick again. I passed out as soon as the flight took off – apparently another concerning fact for our HR director. It took me until nearly dinner time for my headache to go away.

I let this swirl and swish in my brain – rarely drinking – what is my deal? I am not against drinking (heck I am an Irish Catholic – I don’t know life without it!) and we have alcohol in the house. I have more than enough stupid drunk MK stories and if you slip Leigh Anne a $20 she will share them. But Chad is right – rarely do I have a beer with dinner or drink a cocktail. I have my business social drink – cranberry and vodka – that I will nurse all through the event/dinner/party. It is not very often that I will drink to a buzz and even rarer that I will get drunk.

I have been self analyzing and come up with this – 15% of my issue is functioning the next day and 85% of my issue is control.

The Next Day: On the road, I think this is completely understandable. I usually have to be on the floor by 7am the next day and being hung over is not fun. Even when I drink just a little, I usually drag and have a dull headache the next day so put that on top of tired makes for a crabby MK. Even at home, the idea of my children waking me up early keeps me sober.

Control: I think I have a need to be in completely control. I don’t know when this happened. Early in my career I would drink on the road – I even was one of those that showed up to work still buzzing from the night before (not proud of that mind you!) and now the thought of that horrifies me. Is it years in this industry that have jaded me? Is it watching people I respect make total idiots of themselves in front of employees and customers? Is it seeing a married person make out with someone they are not married to? Is it that I am too old? Do I not trust myself to keep from looking like a moron? While I can’t identify exactly what it is (I am sure Chad has an interesting take on this) I do know it is about control.

And those that say peer pressure to drink only happens in high school are full of crap. The pressure to drink while on a trip for me is unrelenting. Except now I think I have said no so often I may have actually beaten them down. That is until I get the question – Why don’t you drink? There is that moment where I want to show them I know how to do a shot or slam a beer. And then I think about what time I have to get up the next morning and politely decline.

An MK Pet Peeve

2011-03-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

Day 9: Pet Peeves

I remember some where along the way hearing that the things that annoy you the most in others is usually a trait you possess. As I have grown older and met more people, I find that statement to be more true than not. I think this is why my mom and I will have tension in a visit – what bugs me about her turns out to be something that I actually do too and then I get even more annoyed. Sick little cycle in our relationship. I fear the same will be happen between Rylee and me unless she is able to break the pattern. Considering she loves pink, tutus, and sparkles, there may be some hope of that.

Chad, while being the most perfect husband for me, does possess habits and quirks that may not always gel with my mood. However, I have to put it in perspective – I do crap all the time that even I find annoying, so to even point out something he may do that I might find slightly irritating seems a bit hypocritical. The fact that he has not called me out on some stuff I do – leaving shoes everywhere, leaving half folded clean laundry on the couch or on a chair for the whole week, talking to him when he is trying to read, shedding hair in our bathroom, letting the kids eat dessert when they clearly have not eaten their dinner, etc – is shocking. He may go mental one day and explode when I ask – “have you seen my keys? I swear I left them in my purse.” Knowing that my list of maddening habits is a mile long, how can I in good conscience ask him to please put dirty dishes in the left side of the sink and not the right side with the disposal? (He already knows this one – not a passive aggressive message here!)

Why this very typical long introduction? Because when selecting a pet peeve to discuss, I didn’t want to make it something that my children will read and say – “ummm Mom – you do this all the time.”

So what can really set me off that I know 100% I do not do – flick cigarette butts. I do not get why people throw their cigarette butts on the ground or flick them out their car window. Completely unnecessary! Most people would never even consider throwing their McDonalds’ wrappers on the road or dropping their empty Starbucks cup on the ground but a cigarette butt is tossed without a care. While I understand the cigarette might still be hot – too bad! You decided to smoke then figure out a way to deal with it until it is cool enough to toss in the trash.

Please understand that while I am not a fan of smoking, and in all honesty probably not a very tolerant person of smoking, I am not writing a tirade about smoking. Some of the people dearest in my life are smokers and while I am not crazy about the smoke, I love the people with all my heart. I even asked one such sweet smoker why the littering. She couldn’t answer. She agreed it is littering and she said she makes every effort to dispose of it properly but she doesn’t always get that chance.

When I am driving and I see someone flick their butt out their window, I (in a very nerdy/goofy move) mentally fling that butt back into their car. As if I had some magic power to move objects, I stuff that butt back into their lap and make them jump like a hot potato.

Spending time and energy on something I can’t control seems a bit ridiculous. I mean I can get truly bent out of shape and go postal when I see the butt flick. But isn’t that kind of what a pet peeve is– something you can not control that just crawls under your skin and gnaws at you. Irritating isn’t it?

QPM? or Parent's Priviledge?

2011-03-14T19:10:00.001-07:00

It is another day of firsts. Zachary got his first fillings at the dentist.
It has always struck me how empty the place is. They've got this perfectly good lobby chock full of amenities going to waste. Slow day maybe? After several trips there, I've found that it is always that way. Maybe business isn't that great? I started to realize that I am one of the few parents that doesn't go back with their kid. I guess it makes sense- the Plano helicopter moms hovering over their children while every molar is checked. I do it too in other venues; but not during novacaine shots? So- let the guilt pile on... the cold-hearted daddy leaves his kid to find his own way in the pediatric dental world. Did I mention it was his first day to face the drill?
Then again- maybe not.
Z has always gone back there on his own. I think he takes pride in the fact that this is one big kid thing he owns and has to himself. I did ask several times if he wanted me to go... to which he replied, "No, Daddy; I can do this." I am proud of him- all the nurses kept calling him a trooper. He never once complained or griped.

Oh by the way- the nurse kept coming back to give me updates every so often (perhaps perplexed that she couldn't do the play-by play on the scene?!)
So- I will happily sit back and enjoy the custom coffee bar... somebody has to, right?

Something MK Craves

2011-03-11T06:18:00.001-08:00

DAY 8: Something I Crave

I crave playing soccer. Let me clarify - I crave playing soccer well.

Craving to me usually creates images of ice cream or affection or attention. But when I truly thought about it I realized I don't just miss playing soccer -- I crave it.

I started playing soccer in the fall of 1978 on the Honey Bears. From that time until we moved to Kansas City almost every Saturday in the spring and fall required a trip out to Indian Springs Sports Complex. It was next to the Arkansas river and made for some cold games. But even today on sunny days that are just on the side of cool with some humidity in the air make me thing -- perfect soccer weather.

I played during college and grad school and even joined a team when I moved to the metroplex. At one point here in the Metroplex, I was playing on four teams at one time - one outdoor competitive, one indoor competitive, one indoor over 30 non-competitive, and an indoor co-ed competitive.

When I got pregnant with Zachary, I played until I was four months along and then took a hiatus. I didn't know that would be the beginning of the end of my nearly 30 years of playing soccer. I went back to soccer nearly a year after Z was born and I sucked so very very bad.

I must back up a little bit to add this information. While I played soccer for many MANY years and had some very amazing coaches, I never have possessed the natural ability of some of my teammates. I always justified it that what I lack in skill I make up for in passion. So while I could hold my own on the field, I was not the player that drew all the attention and I was fine with it.

So back to the "I sucked" comment -- I mean I REALLY sucked. In my brain, I knew what to do but the time it took for the command to travel from my brain to my foot was so long that I would miss the ball or not turn quick enough. It was mentally and emotionally painful. To be sooo bad at something I loved so much was too much to handle. I quit for good at the end of the season. I haven't played since.

Chad has asked about me going back and has gently encouraged me to find a team. And I miss it!! I CRAVE it but I don't want to go back and not connect with the ball or make stupid mistakes just because my body is not listening quick enough. Did I give up too soon? I think Chad believes so but I also don't think people understand how humiliating it is fall on your face at something you are so passionate about with no real hope of ever being where you were. Leave them as the glory days and not pull a Brett Favre.

But I have to say that I really do crave it. I want the high of playing. I think the longing is stronger these day with Zachary playing. He has a coach doing real drills and teaching real skills. I love going to the field on Saturdays and I am acutely aware of how much I miss playing.

Will I ever go back? Satisfy that craving? If Z keeps playing, I may find myself testing the waters but if he decides not to play I may continue to live in denial and deprivation. That is until Rylee is old enough to play.

MK's Favorite Photo

2011-03-09T19:07:00.000-08:00

DAY 7: Favorite Photo

I knew immediately which photo I wanted to use but in searching the many boxes for it (had to scan it in) I came across a few others to share.

There is a part of me that feels I should actually be posting a picture of Chad (one of my favorites is Chad and his puppy Gretchen -- Chad knows the one) or perhaps one of my children but I love so many pictures of them and couldn't possibly narrow it down.

Instead I am posting a picture of my dad. For my 21st birthday, my father gave me an album he put together of pictures of him through the ages. Starting with his baptism through my high school years. He labeled each picture with a number and provided a guide with the album that described what was going on in the photo. It is a treasured gift.

It holds the following pictures:

My Mom at the piano in 1969 -

My Dad's OCS Graduation Photo in December 1963 -

My Dad getting ready to make his last jump in the Army - Kontum, Vietnam Jan or Feb 1967 -
-

My favorite though is this shot of him taken in Okinawa December 1964 - he had just returned from his first tour in Vietnam -

I am so very proud of my father and his service in the military -
I Love You Dad and Thank You

He was a Special Forces Green Beret and his lone tattoo is the parachute airborne symbol on his upper arm. It is faded and blue now but it always reminds me of how important the military was to him. I look at this picture and think he looks like a total bad-ass!

So I am picking a picture that fills me with pride, love, and a little awe and know that is how my father will love to be remembered.

Another One for the Therapist

2011-03-09T10:26:00.000-08:00

I remember in the mid-1980s Dennis Miller on Not Necessarily the News doing a bit about words that should appear in the dictionary but don’t. These words were called Sniglets – my dad seemed to love them. For some odd reason I distinctly remember the one Prindle – the gear indicator in your car (PRNDL). Not sure why my brain holds on to that.

So that random introduction leads to this little story. Back in January, I had loaded up the kids in the car to go somewhere and as I start to back out, I realize my phone was sitting on the counter. Not able to function without my phone, I threw the car in park, left it running, jump out of the car, into the house, got my phone and ran back to get in the car.

I get it – lots of things wrong with this scenario:
1. Left the kids in the car
2. Left the car running
3. Left the kids in the car with the car running

The car could have been stolen and they could have been kidnapped or the car could have slipped out of gear or I could have fallen while running back into the house and cracked open my head-passed out and not been able to make it back to the car and they would have been strapped in for hours by themselves in a running car that could have been stolen or slipped out of gear. Fine – dial CPS. They can’t make me feel any worse about the situation than my son does.

This moment in my life that at the time I thought was maybe not the smartest move but more or less harmless is haunting my son. He actually has nightmare about this. He came bawling to Chad one night about the car not being in the park gear.

I should have known when I got back in the car and he has the big saucer eyes. And starts with “Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that. Why would you leave us like that?” After nearly six years with this boy – why didn’t I see this was going to be trouble?

I did not address it properly – I made light of it saying don’t worry the car was in park you are just fine. Did not satisfy him. So over the nearly month and a half since the incident he has learned how to tell if the car is in park – he can see Chad’s gear selector from his seat but mine is between the two front seats so he checks as he gets out of the car.

He asks as soon as we get in the door if the car is on P (mind you he JUST CHECK himself as he got out of the car), he asks Chad if his car is on P when Chad gets home, he will ask during dinner, he will ask as soon as he wakes up in the morning – Is the car still on P?

Nearly every time we are in the car we go through some scenario – what happens if the car isn’t in P and you left the keys in the car but you are somewhere else? What if I am in the car and it isn’t in P and you are not here? What if the car falls out of P? What if you think you put the car in P but you really didn’t? AAGGHHHHHH!

At some point, I guess Chad has shown Z where the emergency brake is in each of our cars to try and ease some fear but Zachary is relentless in processing this whole situation. When he cries about it all I can think is – DAMN PHONE! It is the phone’s fault I left it on the counter after all.

A part of me is just unfeeling uncaring mom – get over it already seriously! I think that part is trying to hide the part of me that is suffering from guilt and concern. Why does this bother him so much? What does his paranoia/worry/obsession mean? Where does it come from? Is it a sign of a bigger emotional issue?

Oh and I see the irony here. I am paranoid/worried/obsessed about his paranoia/worry/obsession – vicious cycle. Mentally exhausting. Yes all over leaving the car running to go into the house to grab my freakin phone.

Maybe it is just a six year old thing? I haven’t been able to convince myself of that yet but I am working on it.

I am sure there is a sniglet here somewhere: a word defined as mom’s paranoia causes son’s paranoia that fuels mom’s obsession which adds to son’s obsession; usually ends in expensive therapy for both parties.

MK's Fun Fact

2011-03-08T12:39:00.001-08:00

DAY 6: A Fun Fact

I am actually a pretty good public speaker. Both my degrees are in communications and I did study public speaking as a part of that but as a side note this discipline is not entirely made up of writing and giving speeches.

I did at one time actually contemplate trying to become a speech writer. I could be the woman behind the words but let someone else take the credit. Its just I am not as skilled at creating the speech as I am at giving it.

Weirdly enough I dread the process of preparing for the speech or play or public display. I am not focused - I procrastinate - nerves - butterflies - I almost hate doing it until...Lights On and ACTION - the wildest thing happens. Something takes over and I am in a different place. I imagine this is what athletes refer to as "The Zone." I am comfortable and calm and do what I need to do with no hesitation.

I did a run thru of my thesis defense with my grad professor chair the morning of my defense. I was distracted and incoherent and seemingly unprepared. That afternoon during my public defense I was polished, concise, and professional. My prof told me later she had a mini panic attack after rehearsal. Because her name was associated with mine and I looked clueless she almost recommended that I not present that day. She said I was a completely different person in my defense - in fact she then asked me to present my research at a conference in Chicago.

So this leads me to my fun fact - While still living in Tulsa, I participated in regional speech competitions and placed first three years in a row - humorous and dramatic prose.

Ok so maybe it isn't a fun fact but it is a random fact that most people do not know about me.

MK's Favorite Quote

2011-03-07T16:27:00.001-08:00

DAY 5: Favorite Quote

I feel like quotes are used by those looking for ways to express themselves -- this is not a bad thing but in the same way I find songs to be inspirational or expressions of feelings I have - quotes can do the same.

I went through a very quote filled period of my life -- most of the 90s actually. College and Grad School. Do not know if that is truly relevant or if it speaks to the self searching I was doing at that time. Looking for anything to guide me - move me - show me some meaning.

I have a quote of the day calendar on my desk at work that my mom gives me every year - Wild Words from Wild Woman - not nearly as scandalous as it sounds.

I have two friends (shout out to Britta and Michelle) that communicate via quotes - funny, inspirational, thought provoking, and random. Just have to watch their Facebook posts to see what they have to say that day. I usually can find a thing or two to take away from it.

Random quotes I remember:

A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle...Gloria Steinem

Take time to live,
Take time to love,
Take time to do anything you are thinking of
Take time...
Time rolls on...
Lou Gramm (this is actually from a song - does that count?)

I don't need a diet. I need a tapeworm. ...can't remember

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart... Helen Keller

My most favorite person to quote - Martin Luther King Jr.:

Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy to a friend.
Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.
Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.

What an amazing man - genius - I am moved to tears when I hear his I Have A Dream speech...he is beautiful.

However for my favorite quote I must turn to the quote that sees me through it all and it is a Bible verse. I get that Bible verses are easily manipulated and tossed one way or another to seem like one's perspective is right and the other person is wrong. It can be very dangerous to pull a Bible verse out of context and turn it into a mantra. Yet I do pull this one out and let it stand on it's own:

For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord. Plans not full of woe but for you to prosper. Plans for hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11

With a promise like this how can I not enjoy my life and not worry about the future -- it is in His hands after all.

MK's Favorite Book

2011-03-06T07:15:00.000-08:00

DAY 4 - Favorite Book

Another easy one for me but you still have to read through a long narrative before we get to it.

I miss reading. At one time in my life, I was never without a book - starting from pretty young like grade-school young. Maybe it is genetic - my Grandma Leonard, my dad, my mom, all avid readers staying up late at night just to get an extra chapter in before bed.

I actually joined a book club in Junior High -- the ten books for penny and buy five more at full price. Don't remember ever paying for the books...hmmm.

I remember in the fourth grade going to the library and checking out three different books on juvenile diabetes -- no clue why but I learned a lot and was a little freaked out by the kids giving themselves insulin shots.

Point is - I loved to read and found anyway possible to do it and I am a little bitter that I have only read one book (Wicked) in the past year. I am not going to turn this into a poor me poor me so sorry to be me I haven't been reading post but I have to say that I am inspired to make it a priority again. I continue to digress...

Childhood favs: Little House series, Chronicles of Narnia, Bridge to Terabithia, Where the Red Fern Grows, Great Brain series, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables series, anything Beverly Cleary or Judy Blume

I really enjoyed American Lit as a teenager - good thing since I had it twice. American Lit was covered as a sophomore at Bishop Kelley in Tulsa and then we moved to KC and it was covered as a junior at Park Hill. So I had classes on the same books twice and I genuinely read most of them twice.

Had British Lit twice too but not as big a a fan -- I think reading Great Expectations soured me. I read that book in the 7th, 8th, 9th, and 12th grade -- enough. When it is the kids turn to read it, I am leaving that all up to Chad.

More favs from the recent years: John Grisham books, Harry Potter series, Memoirs of a Geisha, DaVinci Code & Angels and Demons

I will select To Kill a Mockingbird as my favorite. I read it for the first time between freshman and sophomore year. I pick this one for it's content, for the feelings and thoughts it stirred in my brain, for the fact that I have read it over and over, and for its ability to stick with me now 20+ years after reading it. Images from the book float clear in my mind as if I were there - the courtroom, the tree, the ham costume, all of it.

Time to find that library card.

MK's Favorite TV Show

2011-03-04T14:55:00.000-08:00

DAY 3: Favorite TV Show

While I am a TV junkie, this task was actually quite easy for me. But seeing that I can’t simply put a two sentence blog post out there (what fun would that be?), I’ll ramble for a little bit.

In my youth, I was a Facts of Life obsessed girl from the days of Molly Ringwald all the way through the not great years of George Clooney and Cloris Leachman. I remember the original Must See TV of Cosby Show, Family Ties, and Cheers. I also had a thing for St. Elsewhere.

When my mom went back to work and Jamey and I were home by ourselves, I was completely sucked into soap operas. Young and the Restless, Days of Our Lives, Another World, and then Guiding Light. From 11 am to 3 pm, I watched that trash and was completely into it. My Grandma Lee found out and told me she used to watch Guiding Light so that one became my favorite. I stopped watching religiously in college but I when I heard Guiding Light was leaving the air after being the longest running soap, I DVR’d the final two weeks of the series. Chad did not get it. He didn’t make fun too much but was amused that the characters I loved as a teenager were still on the show.

Shows I will stop to watch now:
Friends
Iron Chef America
Dirty Jobs
M.A.S.H.
Phineas and Ferb

Shows I currently DVR:
House
CSI
CSI – New York
Criminal Minds
How I Met Your Mother

But my absolute favorite show right now is The Amazing Race. I love it because it’s a great show and also because that is my only scheduled couple time with Chad. Every Sunday we DVR the show and wait until the kids are in bed. We snuggle up on the couch and watch. We decide which detour we would do and critique every move – good and bad -- the racers make. We come to the conclusion after every show: Because we love each other we will never be on the show together!

Prayers for Cooper

2011-03-04T07:20:00.000-08:00

Back in January, I notice one of my Facebook friends (Olivia) had her status as “Pray for Cooper – a friend of mine’s son is very sick…” and I didn’t read the rest. I have a very hard time when people are sick but children rip me apart. Such innocence being in such pain that they do not understand.

So I did a quick mental shout to heaven – God you know what that family needs – please take care of them and Cooper.

Well Olivia’s posts were getting more and more frequent and each one with more dire news than that last. Again, being the expert at avoidance, I just threw out a generic prayer and went about my business.

In the middle of February, Olivia’s post said Cooper Going Home. So assuming good news, I allowed myself to click on Cooper’s mom’s blog - http://cotaforcooperk.com/blog to read about him coming home. I missed the word hospice in the coming home statement.

I could not stop the tears reading about this four year old boy with Mitochondrial DNA Depletion Syndrome. His body’s mitochondrial DNA could not support his organs and in January it attacked his last healthy vital organ – his heart.

There are gut wrenching entries from a mother who has brought her four year old son home to die. They moved his bed to the living room, surrounded him with his brothers and sister and tried to make each day special. Cooper’s mom was so torn – not wanting her son to die but not wanting him to suffer. She said in one entry –

There is just not a good answer to any of this for any of us. No matter what, it ends in heart ache and pain and the worst thing imaginable.

Pray for Cooper – Pray for Cooper – It weighed me down. Pray for Cooper. What do you pray??? What do you say to God about this boy??? What words are right? What words work? What words??? What prayer?? I just found myself yelling up to heaven COOPER! Lord heavenly Father – COOPER!

The last couple of entries Cooper’s mom asked that we pray that Cooper stop fighting and let go. Pray that he go to sleep and find himself in God’s arms.

Cooper passed away last night.

I know the next prayers to say – prayers for peace and mercy and comfort for Cooper’s family. There are no words to say to this family but there are prayers. I don’t know the Knight family but they have touched my life and their hearts stay in my prayers.

Some will say but look at how lucky you are. I knew how lucky I was before Cooper died.

Some will say doesn’t it put things in perspective – your life isn’t so bad. You know what – this isn’t a freakin competition on who has more heartache or who’s heartache is worse. I know with every fiber of my being how blessed I am to have Chad, Zachary, and Rylee. A job I love. An amazing home. Obviously plenty of food. I thank God everyday for these gifts and know that part of life is that you never know what tomorrow holds.

I will not compare my life to theirs – I don’t think that is how it works.

I just have not been able to shake this feeling of helplessness and almost ridiculousness at saying prayers for Cooper. Laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling trying to form words into a prayer or conversation with our Heavenly Father. I never did find the words. My prayer was simply Cooper God – Cooper.

MK's Favorite Movie

2011-03-03T14:34:00.000-08:00

Day 2: Favorite Movie

I think my dad would say my favorite movie is Gone with the Wind based on an obsession I had in the 8th grade.

My son says my favorite is Star Wars, X-Men 2, and Fantastic 4. I am not really sure why -- probably because he personnally likes those or at least thinks he does. He just told me he thinks I really like Speed Racer too.

My friend Karla thinks it is Titanic because when we were roommates she came home and caught me crying at the end of the movie. Embarrassing and true that I cried but definitely NOT my favorite. She still brings up that incident claiming I am a closet Titanic freak.

Sentimentally, I could select Shakespeare in Love because that was the movie Chad and I saw on our first date.

Chad will tell you my favorites are Legally Blonde and Miss Congeniality.

Movies I stop and watch when they are on TV even though we own the DVDs:
OK – yeah Legally Blonde and Miss Congeniality
50 First Dates
Harry Potter – any of them
True Lies
O Brother Where Art Thou
Princess Bride
Oceans 11
Twister
Lake House

Movies I like a lot but don’t own:
Best In Show
Dogma
Amelie
Stand By Me
The Truman Show
The Last Emperor
The Man in the Moon (before Reese was Reese!)
Johnny Dangerously

Movies I am sad to admit I have not seen:
Usual Suspects
Blind Side
Brokeback Mountain
Momento
It’s a Wonderful Life
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Crash
Rear Window
Little Miss Sunshine
Bad Santa

I can not thank Chad enough for having me sit down and watch Shawshank Redemption. Amazing movie. I would almost put that as my favorite but that would not be fair to him especially since I have not seen it as many times as it deserves to be seen.

What I find intriguing about my lists of seen vs. not seen is how “fluffy” the movies I watch are compared to the list of more cerebral ones I have not. Obviously movies are an escape for me (and the rest of the world) but apparently I don’t want to commit too much brain power to it.

I wish I could have a cool movie like The Big Lebowski or Jamey’s favorite Pulp Fiction but the truth is I have never seen neither.

So I contimplated Bend it Like Beckham as a front runner but I am thinking I just have to suck it up, admit it, and own it - I like cheezy chic flicks especially if they star my female celebrity crush Sandra Bullock.

With a touch of redness in the face, I blush when I will select While You Were Sleeping as my favorite movie. It introduced me to Sandra Bullock and is the epitome of Rom/Com Chic Flick.

While I wish my kids could think I am cooler and enjoy thought provoking cinema, I must be honest and say I am the perfect candidate for any movie starring Julia Roberts, Reese Witherspoon, and of course Sandra Bullock.

I am a sucker for a happy ending.

MK's Favorite Song

2011-03-02T06:15:00.000-08:00

DAY 1: Favorite Song

Music has a special place in my life. I find music usually can express what I am feeling and while I am not the writer or creator the song it can NAIL IT for me. It can be a cathartic release or an inspiration or an accompaniment to a road trip. I LOVE MUSIC and generally have it on all the time – in my car, in my office, anywhere I can. A certain song can also bring up vivid memories or pull up an image in my mind of a person or place.

While I am sure most people would say the same thing, for me it feels like I have an intense relationship with music. I wish I could scribble down my feelings and have them be an expression of my heart or stand up and belt out with passion a song that was a view into my thoughts but while I can play Fur Elise on the piano - I can’t sing.

So I live vicariously through the music on the radio or on my phone. Chad has introduced me to a wider range of tunes and opened my taste up to include some music I would never have thought to listen to. Chad has always liked the more Indie type bands and music.

To pick just one favorite song does not seem possible – there are so many to choose from and all with special meaning.

I always think of my brother Jamey when I hear The Devil Went Down to Georgia and Rambling Man because he had a Southern Fried Rock album he used to listen to when he was very little. I think he would find it amusing that I would pick these two songs out of the gazillion songs he has on hard drive. Jamey is like Chad in that he has a wide appreciation for music.

The instrumental Peter and the Wolf will forever conger up images of my mom when she was in her twenties and early thirties. She would play this record (yep on a record player) when we were home and busy around the house.

Jet Song / Maria / I Feel Pretty – the entire West Side Story soundtrack makes me think of my father. For all his military he-man testosterone-ness, he has a beautiful appreciation of the arts. He thoroughly enjoys operas, symphonies, ballets, and musicals. He and my mother made sure I saw as many performances that came through Tulsa as possible – Carmen, Nutcracker, Aida, etc.

I immediately think of Leigh Anne and her ex-boyfriend when I hear My Own Worst Enemy from Blink 182 – not sure she is thrilled about that however Closer to Fine – actually anything by the Indigo Girls, Patsy Cline, or bluegrass makes me think of her too.

Hold On To the Night – Junior Prom
Centerfold – 1982 Early MTV
Feel Like Making Love – College Float Trips
Neon Moon – Silver Bullet Bar Columbia, MO
YMCA – Roller skating in grade school
Gettin Jiggy With It – RA #18
Escape The Pina Colada Song – Broken Arrow and Disco Duck Records
Shameless – Dreaming of Chad before I knew who he was

Blue October’s Hate Me is a song that make me sad but in a therapeutic way. It is hard to explain - I do not know Justin’s pain first hand but something about the song comes through me like I can feel it. Dave Matthew’s Grey Street does something similar but not as strongly. I can play these songs when I am in a funk and it just resonates.

To pick one song that makes me think of Chad is hard – the obvious choice is Crush NOT Crash but Crush by Dave Matthews – it is how Chad proposed and our first dance at our wedding. It is a song that is beyond special to me. But there are so many others some of which I bet he doesn’t even realize – Just Wait, Flagpole Sitta, Shimmer, Slide, Summons, Who Am I?, Calling You (he knows this one – it’s my ringtone for him), I Alone, La Vie Boheme/Seasons of Love/Over the Moon, and on and on. Side note: what is important to know here that it isn’t always the lyrics that make me think of him but the song may be part of a bigger scene in my mind.

So after all this rambling – (Look Jamey I am a Rambling Woman!) to pick one favorite I don’t know how so I went with what I would want at my funeral. Chad and I have had this discussion and while I like the Some Where Over the Rainbow by the Hawaiian guy I will pick Louie Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World. I know there is a mix of the Some Where Over the Rainbow and the What A Wonderful World but for this exercise I am picking the pure version of What A Wonderful World. Cheezy but true.

When I am at peace and my heart is open to view the world with all of its beauty and glory and I can see God in the people that surround me and feel His love with every breath – it is that song. That is the legacy I want to leave my children and when they hear this song they think of good things and me.

It is a wonderful world – it is just some days it is easier to remember than others.

Borrowing Stu's Theme That He Borrowed

2011-03-01T13:05:00.000-08:00

So my blog guru Stu is borrowing a theme from another blogger he follows which is 30 posts in 30 days:

Day 01 — A favorite song
Day 02 — A favorite movie  
Day 03 — A favorite TV show 
Day 04 — A favorite book
Day 05 — A favorite quote  
Day 06 — A fun fact about me 
Day 07 — A favorite photo 
Day 08 — Something I crave  
Day 09 — Pet peeves 
Day 10 — A photo of me taken over ten years ago  
Day 11 — A photo of me taken recently  
Day 12 — Something I bought recently  
Day 13 — Something I want to buy 
Day 14 — An old photo  
Day 15 — My celebrity crush  
Day 16 — A favorite food 
Day 17 — A photo of my family 
Day 18 — A baby photo 
Day 19 — A fun memory  
Day 20 — A hobby of mine 
Day 21 — A favorite recipe  
Day 22 — A favorite joke 
Day 23 — A video  
Day 24 — A travel story  
Day 25 — A favorite photo 
Day 26 — A funny (true) story 
Day 27 — A child I love 
Day 28 — A place I love  
Day 29 — A person I love  
Day 30 — Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days

While I know there is absolutely NO WAY I will post everyday for 30 days, I found this an interesting challenge. I thought it would be a unique way for our kids (cuz aren't they the reason we write this blog) to get insight into their parents. So I am including Chad in on this. I think he needs to take the 30 day challenge but doesn't have to do it in 30 days. Don't you LOVE when I volunteer you Chad?

So the next 60 posts should be Chad and my responses to the above.

Hopefully Stuart you will remember that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery! Not that I am just cheating by copying you!

Well They Kind of Are

2011-03-01T10:31:00.001-08:00

WARNING: This story does not translate into text well but because when it happened I laughed so hard I had watery eyes I had to share.

Z received a gluttonous amount of gifts for his birthday. A gentle reminder of how blessed we are with generous friends and family but Zachary wasn’t kidding when he said he needed a present aisle designated in the house.

With the large amount of gifts there were a few duplications, not nearly as much as you would think but enough to warrant a trip to Target to return items and let him pick out a few different things. I must admit I am even embarrassed to put on here the dollar amount he had to shop with considering the pile of presents still sitting in the “aisle” at our home.

On our way home, Z wanted to open one of the toys he had selected. I told him that it was fine but beware if it had little parts. He proceeded to open one and then said “ah man! It has stupid wires.” I laughed a little – those twist tie things that hold toys onto packaging are a pain in the tookus. This challenge would keep him busy.

A few minutes later he said “Mom, I can’t get these stupid wires off.” I responded with an “I am driving so either keep trying or wait until we get home. And PLEASE stop calling them stupid.”

He paused and quietly said “But that is what Auntie C said they were called – stupid wires.”

What is Your Definition of Humility?

2011-01-21T11:14:00.000-08:00

Taken from reflections of Henri J.M. Nouwen:

When we say, "If people really knew me, they wouldn't love me," we choose the road toward darkness. Often we are made to believe that self-deprecation is a virtue, called humility.

But humility is in reality the opposite of self-deprecation. It is the grateful recognition that we are precious in God's eyes and that all we are is pure gift. To grow beyond self-rejection we must have the courage to listen to the voice calling us God's beloved sons and daughters, and the determination always to live our lives according to this truth.

Think I can teach my kids the REAL definition of humility? Probably not until I change the definition in my brain and in my heart...will not be an easy task. You would think the motivation to change would come from keeping my kids from the heartache of self-deprication and self-loathing but it doesn't seem that simple from where I am.

Kiddos - listen to what your mom says not what she does...wish it worked that way.

I am sure I am the only one that finds this funny but sharing anyway

2011-01-21T10:57:00.000-08:00

We have had the flu in our house this week – Rylee got it Saturday, Zachary got it Monday, and Chad got it Wednesday. So Chad is the latest in quarantine because I can not get sick – I leave this weekend for a week for work.

At bedtime last night, I gather the kids at the foot of our bed and tell the kids:

“Wave, blow kisses, and say goodnight to Daddy from afar.”

Zachary turns to me, scrunches his faces and says “Why did you say that?? A Farr? He’s not a Farr – Emily and Stacie are Farrs. He is a Martin.”

It's the Thought that Counts

2011-01-05T08:35:00.000-08:00

I realize I am so hard on my kids – especially Zachary.

And when you read this Zachary please know that I love you more than any number you can count and I constantly fight internal battles to try to figure out what is the right thing to say or do. I worry about pushing too hard or not pushing enough. I worry do you have enough friends. Are you happy? What is the balance between spoiling you and surprising you? I constantly constantly worry – I just want you to be happy, healthy, and self confident.

But I am a yeller – how can you have a self confident kid if you yell at them? How did that happen? My dad used to straighten me out with the tone of his voice and I find I do that. I SUCK at patience. I can be patient all day long with a stranger but if Z happens to whine about not getting chocolate milk I get all nasty and ugly. How can I love him so much and not be patient??? I am thinking that is a therapy topic for another blog.

ANYWAY this self-deprecating rant or as Chad calls it my “martyr-woe-is-me” tirade is leading me to another touchy topic for me. The etiquette of gift receiving. Chad’s mom MiMi and my mom Gramma are both very generous to our children. They bring gifts with each visit and holiday/birthday times there are mounds of gifts. I learned as a child of a very generous grandma that this is the grandparents’ right and privilege to dote and spoil the grandchildren. I do not mess with this tradition.

I do however take issue with my children’s response to these gifts. I do not want there to be the expectation they get a prizey (what MiMi calls these gifts) with every visit nor do I want any pouting if the prizey is not what they expect.

I had two situations recently:

Situation 1:
MiMi came for a quick visit and brought Zachary a copy of Toy Story 3. Zachary sat on the couch and actually whimpered and pouted. He told her he didn’t want Toy Story 3. I was irritated. I told Z that he needed to thank MiMi for thinking of him. He said quite loudly in response “I don’t want that movie.” So there in front of MiMi, he and I are arguing. I am trying to explain the difference between liking the gift and thanking for the thoughtfulness.

MiMi then says to me in front of Z, “don’t tell him to say he likes something that he doesn’t.” I feel the redness all over my face and body – the prickly heat kind of redness - and now I am beyond frustrated. I then try to explain to MiMi the difference between liking the gift and saying thank you for the thoughtfulness.

I turn to Z and tell him that if he is going to pout like that I do not want to see it and he can finish pouting in his room. He gets up to leave and MiMi grabs him and whispers in his ear. All of the sudden Z is happy and says that he is ok and will stay downstairs.

MiMi tells me that she can not have Zachary so upset and has told him that she will take him shopping later for something else that he wants. So she let him pick out anything from Target – he selected Beyblades – and came back the happiest child on Earth. Not sure if he said a sincere thank you either.

Situation 2:
Two weeks later, Gramma came for Thanksgiving and brought Z a Phineas and Ferb shirt. Zachary once again pouted and said “I don’t like Phineas and Ferb” and handed it back to Gramma. My mom came downstairs and said “I should have called an asked what he was into these days. Last time it was Phineas and Ferb.” So now my mom feels bad that the gift she brought for no reason other than love of her grandson has been rejected. PS – he wore that shirt the next week went he went and had his picture taken with Santa.

Solution:
?????????? No clue. I have sat down and talked with Z about while not liking a gift is fine you still say THANK YOU for the thoughtfulness. There should be no pouting, whining, or whimpering when receiving a gift. I have reacted negatively in the moment when he does these things but I have also at a calmer time talked to him.

I do not want to have Zachary live a life of gifts he does not like. But absolutely do not want to have a child that does not understand thoughtfulness and generosity.

I get it – he is almost six – so of course as he matures hopefully he will understand better but at the same time he is almost SIX. Shouldn’t there be some sort of recognition of thanking for the thought? Or am I expecting too much?

We did have a chat before Christmas Chad’s grandmother – G-Nanny – spent the holidays with us and I knew she would be so very upset if the kids do not like her gifts. I walked through it all again:

* People do not have to give you gifts
* People spend time and thoughts about you
* Everyone should try and be grateful that there are loved ones in our lives that want to give us presents

During the present opening, he responded to each gift with “Oh my goodness!” which tickled MiMi and G-Nanny and thrilled me. He loved G-Nanny’s gifts so there was no issue there.

I thought I had made such progress and then he asks – “Why didn’t Uncle Larry give me a gift? We gave his kids gifts – they should have given me one.” Sigh.

I read on some parenting site – don’t constantly correct children – don’t tell them to say please and thank – simply model the behavior you want them to demonstrate and they will. When?? When do they demonstrate this behavior???

Then I remembered that I yell. Oops. Not a behavior I want to pass along.

Can we pick and choose which of our behaviors our children imitate? I didn’t think so.

Did I mention all I want are happy, healthy, self confident, and polite children?

Mom Gets Khaki

2011-01-03T11:23:00.000-08:00

Zachary’s obsession with Star Wars continues and he has downloaded every possible G-rated Star Wars game to “his” iPhone (please note we did not buy our 5 year old son an iPhone – it is Chad’s old phone that Z plays games on). One of these games borrows a line from the New Hope movie – Han Solo tells Luke – “nice shot kid – now don’t get cocky.” For some reason, Z is convinced that Han Solo is saying khaki.

I have tried to correct him but now he says pants are cocky and Luke is khaki. ANYWAY – we were having the same discussion about cocky vs. khaki and Z says – “now what do you say cocky means?”

I try to tell my kindergartener that cocky is arrogant (because he knows that word??) or a know-it-all. Zachary then says that Amare (a kid in his class) is a know-it-all and that he is Ms. K’s jet.

I try to clarify with Zachary – “do you mean pet? Is he Ms. K’s pet?”

Looking at me like I am crazy, Zachary say “No Mom I said jet.”

Because I feel the need to push the issue, I respond “you mean pet with a p right? A teacher’s pet?”

Frustrated with me, Zachary gets up to leave and says “No mom jet with a j not a p but a j.” And he turns his back to me and starts walking out, slowly turns around, shakes his head and says “besides, Ms. K likes cats.”

Busted!

2010-12-21T14:46:00.000-08:00

We took the kids to see Santa last Thursday and Zachary was so excited. He had written a list out and brought it with him. The list is a pillow pet, Star Wars Legos, BeyBlades, and a DS. We waited at StoneBriar to see the same Santa we have for the past 5 years and when it was our turn Z was gung ho and Rylee freaked. So Z and Santa went over the wish list.

The following weekend we went out to Cedar Creek lake to have our Jost Christmas. The Jost family is Chad's Mom's family so we stay with Chad's Uncle and Aunt and his cousins, their kids, and his grandma and her husband all squeeze in together for some serious family bonding.

His Aunt and Uncle had arranged for a visit from Santa for all the kids. Zachary was SOOOO excited again. Santa brought gifts for each of the kids to keep them happy until Saturday. Santa took each child on his lap and asked what they wanted for Christmas.

Z's present was at the very bottom of the sack. I really think he was worried that Santa was not going to call his name - he paced and then sat and stared and he tried his very best to be patient. Finally it was his turn -- grinning from ear to ear he sat on Santa's lap and waited while we took pictures.

Santa then turned to him and said "Zachary - what do you want for Christmas?"

Z looked at him, cocked his head, and squinted his eyes "Um Santa -- I already told you."

OOOPPPS!!

Not sure if he was worried that Santa had already forgotten his carefully thought out list or if he was suspicious that Santa didn't really know who he was -- doesn't matter to me. All the adults laughed as Santa had the reindeer in the headlights look and tried to recover.

Merry Christmas my smart boy!!

She Does Have a Thing for Toy Story

2010-12-13T16:51:00.000-08:00

Rylee was playing with our Little People Manger set. She put one of the wise men on top of the camel and said "YeeeeHaw Cowboy!"

It Sounds Like a QPM But It Wasn't

2010-12-13T16:48:00.000-08:00

A sweet little conversation I had with my daugher...

Rylee: Mommy I want gum.

MK: No baby you can't have any gum.

Rylee: I want gum pleeeaasssee!

MK: Rylee, I said no. You can't not have any gum.

Rylee: No Mommy I want gun.

MK: Oh gun?! I thought you said gum. Yes, you can have the gun.

Listen to the Music

2010-11-18T13:07:00.001-08:00

While I know someday I will miss the intensity with which my son loves me and wants to be with me, last week I was frustrated by it. I was going on an overnight trip to Chicago so I would see him Wednesday morning and pick him up from school Thursday afternoon. He started crying and was worried he wouldn't get to say good-bye. He didn't trust me. We had been going over this scenario for about ten minutes.

There we sit the two of us in the dark - he tucked in his bed after prayers crying and me sitting beside him tickling his back trying to find the words to assure him he would see me in the morning, we would talk Wed night from my hotel, and I would pick him up from school Thursday.

He tried to say something in his crying voice when I was distracted by an odd noise. Rylee sleeps with a humidifier on and I thought it was doing something. I made Zachary be quiet so I could figure out what exactly was the noise.

From Rylee's room we hear PPPBBBPPPPTTTT and PZZZZBSSSST -- Rylee is making raspberry noises or a Z declares "Tooting Noises." She is doing it to entertain herself -- she doesn't know we are listening -- and she is almost making a song out of it.

I try to keep a straight face and turn back to Z to address his concerns and he is trying his darnest not to break out into a full on laugh. He is covering his mouth and giggling. His trying to cover and her harmonic noises makes me giggle and soon Z and I are quietly laughing at the zerbert tune from the other room. All concern has left both of us -- soothed away by my daughter's melody.

I kiss Z on the forehead, tell him I will see him in the morning, and he blows me a kiss and while still chuckling at his little sister, says goodnight.

I smile as I go down the stairs -- I am lucky to have children with so much love and so much musical ability.

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater vol 3

2010-11-15T11:49:00.000-08:00

Entry 3 of the blogs that I am cheating to create. I am going to take a complete shortcut to blogging and use my Facebook status’ as prompts for the happenings in the Martin house over the past several months where I was too busy/tired/uncreative to update our journal.

June 18th - Wicked - amazingly cool fantastic!!! Date with my husband - even better!!!

I had an actual date with Chad. Sadly they are few and far between these days. It has also been a long time since I have seen a musical that I did not already know the story so I was giddy watching the plot unfold.

Chad then gave me the book for my birthday -- must say I am glad I saw the play first. I can not say too much since Chad is getting ready to read the book.

June 23rd - Instead of "The End" when we finish a story, Rylee says AMEN. Not sure if this is a comment on my storytelling or on my praying!! :)

July 3rd - ‎2 minutes into fireworks and Rylee throws the blanket over her head - she did finally remove it to eat ice cream. It was great family fun!!! :)

July 8th - Walking out of daycare this evening Rylee says "Oh no Mommy it's raining! My hair my hair! Mommy my hair!" I may have a princess on my hands.

FINALLY a little blogging on Rylee. She is a sweet girl that is ALL PINK GIRL. She does funny hysterical stuff every day and I miss capturing it here. She and Z are going to look at this and wonder why she is rarely mentioned -- It is because I am lazy honey! Sorry!!

She loves to accessorize with hats, gloves, and necklaces. She would change her shoes every few hours if she could. She knows what she wants to wear. And is quite able to express her like or dislike for an outfit.

One day I had what I consider a super cute outfit all picked out for her (jean capris and a fancy top) and she used this devil voice at me "NO PANTS! NO PANTS!!" I figured she wasn't in the mood for denim so I got my second choice of bottoms out -- khaki capris and she busts out with that same scary guttural devil voice "NO PANTS! NO PANTS!!!" I look at her and ask her not to use that voice and what does she want to wear. She turns her head so her chin is over her shoulder, keeps her head low but looks up, smiles (and I swear she was batting her eyelashes) and says "A dress please."

She uses the word "cute" to describe outfits and must have a bow.

I am proud though -- she does have her "pincess" pull ups but really likes her YeeHaw (Toy Story) pull ups better. Tidbits like this give me confidence that perhaps we will find some common ground through the years!

I Love You Dad and Thank You

2010-11-12T12:26:00.000-08:00

I am very proud of my Father – Lieutenant Colonel James Barry Leonard. He served two tours in Vietnam – 1964/65 and 1967 – and saw things that people should not see. I do not know the true extent of horrors that he saw and he will never tell me. I know a few stories – that the jungle was so thick the leaves of the trees actually intertwined allowing my dad and his soldiers to walk on top of the trees and have hand grenades thrown at them from underneath. Or some times Vietnamese kids would wander into their camp with a bomb attached to them. I have heard nasty stories of rats and leeches and yet I have not even scraped into the really bad stuff. I remember watching Platoon when I was about 14 and bawling to think my dad had seen any of that in real life.

I often wonder what my dad would have been like had he not gone to war. The impact of war on him had to have been profound. In his sleep one time home on leave, my dad threw my uncle’s cat into the Christmas tree when it crawled on him and really hurt the cat. He said in his dream it was a rat. Mom said he still was having nightmares when they were married. But I guess I should not spend too much time thinking about how it changed him. My dad is my dad – in all of his flaws and in all of his goodness and his service in the military made him who he is.

I also recognize how lucky I am. I am very aware of the soldiers that do not come home or come home with wounds that can not be fixed – physical, mental, and emotional.

I recently learned that my dad did not leave the military by choice. It makes a lot of sense for me to hear this now – I could never figure out why he left and my mom said that it was a RIF (reduction in force) and he was essentially laid off. Mom said that dad thrived in the military – the structure, the discipline – was all up his alley. He was successful and respected. He had chosen a career as a military officer and that was taken away from him. In 1973, he went into the reserves and never went back into active duty. I remember his retirement in 1993. He had “served” for 30 years and now knowing it was not his choice to leave I wonder if that retirement moment was bittersweet.

I did spend a little time thinking that had he continued in active duty that I would be full-fledged Army brat. My life would be totally different. I am quite happy with how my life turned out so the selfish part of me says “thanks Dad for taking one for the team – because your dreams did not turn out – mine did!” I suck sometimes.

Every Veteran’s Day I send a note to my dad to say thank you. I thank him often for being a dad but once a year I think him for choosing to be a soldier. It is not a role I could ever take or a job I would ever want. But he volunteered and was good at it. He and the millions in the military service across the years deserve all of my appreciation. I am grateful to all of our military. So this year instead of delving deep into my appreciation I had a little story to include in my note to my dad:

From: Martin, Mary Kate
Sent: Thursday, November 11, 2010 10:28 PM
To: Dad
Subject: Happy Veteran's Day!

Hey Dad -- thank you so much for all you did for me, and the rest of our country. I apologize for the late well wishes -- was in Chicago yesterday and today and just now getting to my email.

I do have to tell a story on your grandson.

After I picked up the kids from school, it started raining. On the days that it is raining, I usually drive to the front of the house to pick up the mail and then drive around to the back to park. Lazy I know but the kids get a kick out of it.

Anyway, I drove around today and of course no mail. I said out loud -- "Oh yeah it is Veteran's day - no mail" and Z asks what is Veteran's day.

I tell him we take time to thank all of the soldiers that protect us and fight for us so we can live the great life we have. He said oh ok. Not sure he understood. So I ask him if he knew Gramps was a soldier and on Veteran's day we thank Gramps too for all he did. Z said wow -- Gramps was a soldier. I said that I had pictures of Gramps in his uniform. And Z made me promise to show him.

So we get inside and so begins the hustle and bustle of being home -- dinner, clean up, homework, etc. In the middle of all of it, Z asks to see pictures of Gramps as a soldier and I only have time to show him two with promises that I will show him more later. He asks lots of questions that I tell him he will have to ask Gramps directly because I can't answer.

We finish our night time routine and it was time for us to head up to bed. As we climb up the stairs, Zachary says to me "Mom, there are some very bad men out there. But I don't want you to worry because Gramps and his Army friends will take care of them."

I could have cried. I loved it -- thought you would want to know.

I really was quite taken with Zachary's words. And in true JBL short - sweet - to the point - no emotion fashion my dad's response was:

From: Dad
Sent: Friday, November 12, 2010 12:58 PM
To: Martin, Mary Kate
Subject: Re: Happy Veteran's Day!

Thanks for telling me of Z's confidence in me and my Army buddies. It is heart warming. See you all soon.

I love my dad - I got his short temper and lack of patience, ability to talk for five hours straight barely needing a breath, and a bit of a self righteous attitude. I also got his work ethic, fantastic memory, and prioritizing my life with God as number one. While my dad is not afraid to say I love you or I am proud -- that is the extend of the detail he will go into. So despite the lack of gushy response to my email, I imagine he was as touched as I was thinking that Zachary feels safer knowing Gramps and his friends take care of all the bad guys.

Thank you Dad and thank you to ALL our military, past and present, for keeping us safe from the bad guys.

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater Vol. 2

2010-11-04T07:15:00.000-07:00

Entry 2 of the blogs that I am cheating to create. I am going to take a complete shortcut to blogging and use my Facebook status’ as prompts for the happenings in the Martin house over the past several months where I was too busy/tired/uncreative to update our journal.

May 22nd - On Vacation! On Vacation! See you work folks in JUNE!!!
May 28th - my chi flat iron is the most useless waste of packing space when visiting a humid location

We took our first just us family vacation in May. Chad’s company owns a condo in South Padre on the beach so we headed south for the Martin Family Vacation. I have to tell you I was dreading it – not the vacation but the drive down and the drive back. Someone I work with is from Brownsville and she makes the drive all the time – she said it usually takes her about 10 hours going fast with bathroom stops. Add two children with multiple bathroom stops and food stops and get out and let the feeling back in your butt cheeks stops – I thought for sure it would be a 14 hr trip.

Chad in his brilliance said – let’s stop in San Antonio and go to Sea World. After a rocky start, the kids ended up enjoying Sea World. Rylee fell in love with puffins – squealing, shrieking, in love and Z fed dolphins and sea lions and walked away with a stuffed Shamu he named Sparkles.

The kids loved the beach and the pool and we had a great time. The last day Rylee had a fever that kept her down that day – poor girl and Chad and Z went to see the turtles.

We did attempt one “nice” dinner where we all dressed up and went early to avoid the crowd and it was not as smooth as we wanted. The restaurant didn’t have a booster seat so Rylee would constantly stand up and try to jump from chair to chair. Neither kid would eat the fancy fish sticks because they were real fish sticks as opposed to Van de Kamps. Just a gentle reminder of why we don’t do formal dinners as a family.

The drive home we thought we would try to make it to Austin and when we hit Austin we decided to just go home. And we made it in about 10 ½ hours so my friend here at work must be a pokey driver.

As always – vacation is fun but when it is over you are ready for it to be over:

June 1 - Happy Birthday to my wonderful brother Jamey -- I love you! Hopefully this declaration of love and birthday wishes in a very public location will make up for the fact that not only didn't I send you a gift --- you aren't even getting a card. Course you probably find this more embarrassing -- public display of affection and all. Oh well what are big sisters for???!!

Don’t see enough of my brother…love that I am related to someone so cool. There were times growing up I questioned whether both of us would make it to adulthood alive. I was bossy (SHOCKING!) and self righteous and he was ornery and possessed every stereo-typical trait a little brother could have.

Some wicked battles growing up but it all seemed to turn out ok with some good memories to boot. I hope Z and Rylee get to know their uncle and the amazing man that he is.

June 13th - Food for thought from Zachary over dinner -- "I think they should call Earth Texas"

Chad is very proud of his Texas born son. He seems to have a grip on the mentality already.

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater Vol. 1

2010-11-03T14:31:00.000-07:00

So begins a series of entries that I am cheating to create. I am going to take a complete shortcut to blogging and use my Facebook status’ as prompts for the happenings in the Martin house over the past several months where I was too busy/tired/uncreative to update our journal.

May 1 - Drama this AM with Z getting four stitches but washed away by the fun lunch with friends!!!

Z mysteriously fell down on the tile entryway and cut his chin open – actually he busted it open. Chad and I had this deal long before children that I would deal with vomit and he will deal with blood. Sadly for Chad, he has had more vomit in his life than he could have expected and fortunately for all of us we have not had any real blood situations up to this point.

I heard the fall (I was upstairs) and Chad was in the kitchen so by the time I got down there Chad already had Z in our bathroom. There was blood and I peeked. It actually looked to me as if the edge of something (I am convinced our staircase) actually punctured his chin.

Kudos to Z for being so very calm despite the nervous parents. No question that he needed to go to the ER and get stitches and he just held that bundle of gauze under his chin.

I stayed at home with Rylee and finished getting ready for our company (we had a play date for lunch that day) and Chad took Z to the hospital. This trip was their second time to go to Centennial so they were old pros at this scenario.

I should let Chad jump in here and give a description but Reader’s Digest version is they had to strap him down and burrito him/mummify him and stitch up his chin. He didn’t cry – brave boy – and he came home with four stitches or whiskers as we called them.

By the time our friends showed up a lunch he was over it. Wish I could have recovered from it that fast!

May 9th - After each Cootie piece he wins, Z says quite seriously "Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner." Love that kid!! It is a happy Mother's Day!

I first heard “Winner Winner Chicken Dinner” from a colleague of mine who was in sales – I have never heard it before Chris said it. The statement cracked me up so much I guess I used it with Z. When he said it during our friendly game of Cootie, I posted the above to Facebook specifically for Chris. I was amazed at how many people commented and knew of this goofy saying. You have to admit it is kind of catchy and I bet you’ll say it a few times in your head!

May 16th - I am disturbed by the utter gooey sticky-ness a milk soaked Kix ball has.

How I would LOVE a maid! I am too much of a messy person to have a house with kids – they just compound the issue. I am convinced that Kix Cereal was meant as torture to us non-neat housekeepers!

Rylee is allergic-ish to wheat – she tests on the low reaction scale - so I was buying her corn and oat based cereals and then enters our life Kix and Kix with Berries (meaning Kix with pink colored balls).

When Kix balls get wet they are just like a dollop of glue. They stick to tables, chairs, hands, PJs, floors, etc. Rylee would get up from eating breakfast and her bottom would be covered in these Kix balls like dingleberries.

God forbid you miss one when you are cleaning up (like those folks that are not great housekeepers are inclined to do) and it dries. Depending on the surface the Kix ball has dried to, you may have to get out some serious weaponry to remove it.

Needless to say Chad has asked that I discontinue bringing Kix into our home.

I Stand Corrected

2010-11-01T12:20:00.001-07:00

Zachary asks me "Mom do you know who had the very first Thanksgiving?"

I am fully expecting this to have some sort of tie back to Star Wars but I go with Pilgrims.

He said "Yes Mom! That is great -- and who else?"

In my very politically correct way I answer with "Native Americans."

Z shakes his head and sighs. "No Mom -- it was the Wampanoags - they are Indians."

Just schooled by my kindergartner.

PS - I did google it to make sure it wasn't a name from Star Wars!

Who's Child is This?

2010-10-28T10:45:00.000-07:00

While there are many stories that should be published since nothing has been documented since June (leaving TLC, starting school, starting soccer) I am only going to recap a few. These stories will have you questioning whether I can truly be related to this boy:

* He only wants to drink water - he doesn't want milk unless cereal is involved, he doesn't want juice and definitely doesn't want cokes -- they are spicy. Me the queen of DDP has a son that only drinks water. Not complaining here folks just amazed!!!

* Walked into AlphaBest (after school care) on Tuesday and didn't seem him. The director smiled when she saw me and said that Zachary was in "time alone." We haven't put Z in a time out in YEARS so I was surprised and a bit horrified and asked what happened. She laughed and said that he was frustrated by the Lego's he was playing with and got mad. So I asked what did he do? (imagining throwing them or stomping on them - you know things I would do) She said he went to Time Alone. I said "But did he yell or throw or something?" She said "No he went to time alone." (Who's on first people?) I asked for clarification. She said when he started getting frustrated he went to her and said "I am too mad at the Lego's to play with them right now - I need to go have some time alone to calm down." That is right -- my son put himself in time out. If only Mommy could learn that kind of anger management.

* This kid wakes up in a good mood. This point really does call into question if we are related. I am not pleasant in the morning for an hour or so after I wake up. Even if I get enough sleep - I still need some time before anyone talks to me. The minute Z is awake - he gets out of bed and starts talking. He is a full speed before his feet can hit the floor. It is exhausting and quite unreal. Even Chad needs a little time to wake up and he is a thousand times perkier than me in the morning.

* He is anal retentive. Not in an Alex P Keaton way but there are things that go a certain way and any deviation from the routine can cause concern. I know I am quirky and have one or two OCD tendencies but WOW Z can get crazy about things that catch me off guard: closet door must be open always, only eats red vitamins, shoes must stay downstairs, his blanket must be cool, must color within the lines, must color realistically, and has to sleep on stuffed moose when his hair is wet.

* He doesn't eat pizza, rice, spaghetti sauce, cereal marshmallows, mashed potatoes, goldfish and any fruit other than mandarin oranges, bananas, and grapes. He does eat broccoli, biscuits with grape jelly, mac n cheese, and waffles. He is picky about his chicken nuggets too. Only certain kinds will do.

* The lines of reality and imagination are a little blurred for him. I know I have blogged about his life in England (which he still does mention by the way) but now it is all Star Wars all the time. He talks constantly about Star Wars. Interesting since he has never seen the movies. He doesn't know the stories so he makes up his own. He does seem to know who are the bad guys (DarK Vader -sic and General Grevious) and the good guys (Luke and Anakin) but he has created history and characters and plots for Star Wars. I am think George Lucas should pay us some money - Z is very thorough in his story line. The only concern I have is when he is so deep in his imagination -- I think he forgets where he is. He has light saVer -sic battles down the aisle of Target or is having a serious dialogue with the other Jedis in the shower and forgets to wash or is flying/fighting something on the soccer field as the team goes by with the ball. I am far too grown these days to get lost in my imagination like he does.

Please understand I love each and every quality my son has (well - truth be told the food situation is challenging) and I see everyday how I have a loving, sensitive, imaginative, generous, and giving boy. I think the reason I question who's child is this is because I am amazed and blessed that I get to call him my son!

More &!@* My Five Year Old Says

2010-06-23T11:36:00.000-07:00

These are three phrases Z has uttered recently:

1. “There sure are a lot of hos on the moon.”
2. “The scariest thing EVER on earth is Mommies!”
3. “Does Dad go party in the middle of the night?”

These three statements made me laugh out loud (he doesn’t like when I do that) and have to dig for clarification. While I feel compelled to explain the context of each comment, I feel it really takes the magic out of them. So if you want to just have the giggle – go back and read them again and stop after #3. If you are looking for the story behind them, keep reading but I warn you they are not as funny with the explanation.

1. Zachary has quite a fascination with space – he can name all of the planets (acknowledges Pluto but he does clarify it is actually a dwarf planet), he know comets, and galaxies, on and on. He has a very cool space book with fold out pages and real pictures. During dinner, Z was “learning” us about space and throws out the statement “There sure are a lot of hos on the moon”. I make my confused face – “Hos? On the moon?” He says “Yes, my book has pictures. There are hos everywhere!” In my mind I am picturing cheap prostitutes leaning on moon rocks, smoking cigarettes and wearing clear platform heels. I am visualizing thousands chatting amongst themselves and I laugh VERY loudly at my own twisted vision. Zachary calls me out of my reverie and asking what is so funny. I told him I wasn’t sure what he meant by hos on the moon and he gets his book to show me the craters on the moon. Indeed there sure are a lot of HOLES on the moon.

2. This next moment happened in the car coming from school turning from Preston onto Gaylord – the location is not relevant in the least it is just that for some reason I remember exactly where I was when this conversation took place. We were talking about things that are scary – spiders, snakes, places where there are spiders and snakes. (side note: he recently has quite a fear of spiders and snakes) He then asks me “Do you know what the most scariest thing is? More scarier than snakes and spiders?” I tell him I have no idea and he informs me “The scariest thing EVER on earth is Mommies!” I absolutely snort with laughter – and say “Yes Z, some times we Mommies are VERY scary.” His response was “I know! I know! Especially the ones with white tape.” I stopped laughing. Do what???? White tape? Hindsight is 20/20 and I realize now it was obvious but it took me a couple of minutes to catch on to what he meant. Light bulb goes off as we wait at a red light – “oh honey you mean MUMMIES!” I giggle. And he gives me that “duh” look and says just like a kid from The Goonies “That’s what I said – Mommies”.

3. We recently were on vacation in South Padre island staying in a condo owned by Chad’s company. We were getting ready one morning and Z comes in to the bathroom and asks me “Does Dad go party in the middle of the night?” Followed by my laughter. Again with my soooo wrong visions – Chad sneaking out in the middle of the night to go party with the teenagers on the beach or go drink beer by the pool with the bachelor party boys also staying in the complex. I tell him no that Daddy does not go party at night. He then says “well are you partying in the middle of the night?” I tell him I am way too tired to party at night. He then says more to himself “I wonder who is partying in the middle of the night?” I am trying to think of what is he hearing that makes him think there is a party or that we are go to a party in the middle of the night. Only one night was there lots of noise coming from the pool until about 1:00 am. As Zachary wraps up his getting ready process, going to the bathroom, washing hands, etc, he turns to me with much more seriousness than a five year old should have and said “Mom, we need to figure out who is partying at night.” I ask why and if they are disturbing him. He gives me that look that indicates he thinks I am totally crazy and says “No, but we need to tell them to flush because it is gross to leave it sitting in there.”

I love the &!@* Zachary says.

&!@* My Five Year Old Says

2010-06-02T16:54:00.000-07:00

As I buckled Z in his car seat after school yesterday, a small sliver of gold shiny-ness in his nose caught my attention. I mentioned to Zachary that he had something in his nose and he responded:

"Yeah -- it's glitter. From the duck."

A Punny RePost

2010-05-21T07:29:00.000-07:00

I am stealing one of my status updates from Facebook because I am being snotty and irrational. Zachary is the KING of unintentional puns and each one he drops makes me laugh out loud. I learned this appreciation for word play from Andrew who is the KING of intentional puns.

I have also read that if you have to point out a pun then the pun loses it punch and humor. I am notorious for putting a "(HA!)" after my puns which to pure pun appreciators really does detract from its funny / clever appeal.

So last Thursday Zachary had a beautiful pun moment and I was dying to share his inadvertent cleverness. So what do I do??? I post it on Facebook and I avoid putting my standard (HA!) after it to keep the pun true.

The comments that were posted in response were more about his actions and naptime stories rather than the hilarity of his pun causing my irrational witchy unnecessary indignance. Instead of appreciating the sweet remarks friends and family made I am stomping my foot saying but isn't his PUN funny??? I think my attitude takes more away from the pun than if I had put a little (HA!) next to it. Or perhaps it is not nearly as funny as I, Zachary's biased mom, think:

This is for Uncle Andrew -- Tonight at Kindergarten Orientation we learned that they do not take naps. Zachary stands up and throws his fist in the air and says "YES! I am so tired of naps!"

No -- it is definitely funny. So I will make light of the situation and let those that don't catch his word play stay in the dark and let those that enjoy his unintentional cleverness enjoy the brilliance. (HA!)

Mommy Math

2010-05-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

Zachary says to me tonight "Mom I love you so much" and I respond with a "Zachary I love you so much there is no number high enough to count how much I love you."

He laughed and said "How much Mom - like a hundred?" and I told him "more like a million times a million times a million billion gazillion."

He stopped laughing and made his serious face to say "that is definitely more than a hundred."

Ok Maybe Not but There are Sprinkles!

2010-04-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

Zachary loves the cookies that you buy from the store – you know the ones that are the sugar cookies with the bright frosting and sprinkles. We were down to one and I told him I would put it in a baggie and save it for him. He worried constantly that someone else would eat it.

So tonight after eating a very good dinner, finishing his homework in record time, and completely picking up all his toys AND his sister’s toys I told that I thought he should get his cookie and sit down to eat with Chad who had just gotten home and was eating dinner.

Zachary said that he thought that maybe Daddy would want the cookie. I was stunned – I mean he LOVES these cookies and he had been panicking that someone would eat it. I thought it was so “sweet” (HA!) that Z was offering this prize cookie to his hard working Dad.

I think Chad was also taken aback. He told Z that it was such a generous offer but that cookie really had Zachary’s name on it.

Zachary said oh ok and went to the pantry retrieved the cookie and came back. He stared at it for a while and then told Chad "Daddy I don’t think they put my name on it."

Raising Couch Potatoes

2010-04-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere (I am thinking Newsweek) that we shouldn’t give today’s parents such a hard time about letting the TV babysit their children. The writer said that while growing up his mother made him go outside all day long to play unsupervised in the neighborhood. Essentially she was letting the outside babysit him. The writer continued by commenting no parent these days will say “Go run around the outside all day without any supervision” because of the ugly things that exist today.

I do remember living in NJ and mom letting me run around outside without her. My only real rule was I had to stay within the col-de-sac. We moved when I was five so I was younger than Z when I ran around with my friends.

I also know I had tons of freedom in Broken Arrow – riding bikes, running from friend’s house to friend’s house, going to the pool – all with out supervision.

To summarize, according to the writer parents of the good old days were just as guilty as us parents of the here and now about letting their children be “babysat” while the parental units try to get something done around the house.

Do you think they felt as guilty?

Well, She Does Speak the Truth

2010-04-16T12:36:00.000-07:00

This story is long overdue for documentation. Back in December, Rylee was just starting to make sounds like she was talking. She could say MaMa but it wasn’t necessarily in reference to me but to almost anything. One “word” that she said in reference to herself was money.

Now I am not sure if she was saying some sort of “mine” or “mommy” or what but it came out money. If you picked up her toy it was MONEY at the top of her lungs or if she wanted a snack moneymoneymoney. Anyway, we were amused by our daughter’s choice of words.

For Christmas, we went to the afternoon mass (during the blizzard I must mention!) and because it was Christmas we were in the overflow in the gym. We were sitting in bleachers and I was struggling to pay attention because I was trying to make sure Rylee didn’t plummet down the concrete steps. However, I did try to listen to the homily.

Fr. Jim talked about a Mexican Tradition of acting out what the Holy Family had to go through right before Jesus was born trying to find a place to stay. The tradition is called Las Posadas. The participants knock on doors and are refused a place to stay. Fr. Jim then tries to bring it home to us saying “what will the answer be when Jesus knocks on our hearts? What do you think Jesus will hear when He knocks on the doors of Hollywood? What do you think Jesus will hear when He knocks on the doors of Wall Street?”

It is at this moment that my darling daughter decides to answer Fr. Jim yelling like the 17 month old she is:

She responds “NO MONEY!”

Good thing Fr. Jim, the congregation at Prince of Peace, and God have a sense of humor.

I think I Would Prefer J.K. Rowling

2010-04-15T12:45:00.000-07:00

My husband is incredibly creative. He “oozes” it actually. I have always hoped that our children will inherit this trait and Z is showing signs of creativity in his imagination. However, crazy mother that I am starts to twist this interesting streak into something to worry about – roll your eyes with me - of course I have.

It started with me trying to talk about “stranger danger” with Z. I told him that if anyone he doesn’t know approaches him when Daddy or I are not around to not talk to that person and to never follow that person anywhere. He told me not to worry he will uses his karate on them and kill them. Hmm. So I try to tell him I am serious and that he should not use his karate on anyone unless he is in class and I don’t like him saying he will kill anyone but don’t go anywhere with strangers. He responds with “I am serious Mom. I will use my karate and get him.”

So I have been tossing the scenario in my brain – can he tell where his imagination ends and reality should begin? I am frustrated because I do not feel that he took away from our conversation the dangers of strangers but rather had an elaborate play in his head where he is some superhero karate dude.

Then adding to world that is Zachary’s he has recently announced that we, the Martins, are his second family. He says he used to live with his community helper family (HUH?) in England (which he explains is "an island with a king" --???) when he was little. He added his community helper family in England call cookies biscuits, fries chips and dogs lickers (don't know about that last one!).

What the heehaw???? He loves to share stories of his other life with the community helper family all the while throwing in tidbits about England. I am thinking he must be learning about England in school or else they have changed Boom-a-rang from Cartoon Network into some sort of discovery channel because I did not teach him those things about England.

He is quite open about this other family with people he meets or friends we see. The people we know just smile and look at me saying “he has quite an imagination doesn’t he?” Those that we don’t know haven’t a clue how to process the information and smile and move on.

I am trusting this is a phase kind of like having an imaginary friend which I have heard is actually a sign of intellect and creativity. That is what I have heard. So I am choosing to believe that while I haven’t actually taught him about stranger danger that his stories of his other family and karate heroes are signs of a successful career in the future in the arts some how.

As my friend's mother said over the weekend “Maybe he’ll be the next Stephen King!”

I was inspired today...

2010-04-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

OK – I know these seems totally and completely random for me but it struck me so much that I wanted to share. I have pulled these sentences out of context from Richard Rohr’s daily meditation and the point of the meditation was more about sharing in Christ consciousness but the bold sentence lead me in another direction.

We have to let go of the passing names by which we have tried to name ourselves and become the “naked self before the naked God.” Your bare, undecorated self is already and forever the beloved child of God. When you can rest there, you will begin to share in the universal Christ consciousness, or the “mind of Christ.”

It is so hard for me to wrap my brain around that bold sentence. Naked to me is pretty much the most vulnerable position you can put me in – to stand before God naked with my sins, my bad decisions, my anger, my hurt is a frightening prospect to say the very least. It is not as easy as one would think to remember how very loved we are by our Father – ironic huh? We love our children unconditionally and yet there are many moments in my life I forget that I am loved unconditionally with all my flaws and in my nakedness by God.

As my dear friend Debra has said – There is nothing I can do to make God love me more and there is nothing I can do to make God love me less.

Jan-Feb Z nuggets

2010-02-21T18:50:00.000-08:00

How do people get up...?
Tonight, as we were finishing up reading the heart touching story of "The Littlest Angel", Zachary says, "mommy, I have a question." (Here we go- the realization that the littlest angel was a boy; and why was the little boy in heaven, and how do people get there... ooooh how to answer this?)
Zachary continues, "How do people get up into monster trucks?"
---
The morning of Cain-ita and Abel
One morning, as we were running late out of the door, a fire truck and ambulance siren could be heard in the distance. Mary Kate has encouraged Z to say a prayer for the people the rescue workers are going to help. So- Zachary stops in his tracks and says, "we've got to pray, daddy!" and proceeds to start a very sweet spontaneous prayer out loud. In the meantime, Rylee takes out at full speed for the alley. It's Monday- the trash truck is coming down the alley. So- I am chasing my demon daughter running into harms way 'round the car while NOT supporting my angel son making me proud of his spontaneous prayer. Lovely.
---
Adult stuff
While keeping both kids all weekend, I was explaining to Zachary why I was not going to Play Super Mario Bros (gen 1 recently rescued from SA) because of all the housework. Z replies, "Daddy, you've got to learn me all of this adult stuff because I'm just not going to know it." I'll try...
---
Par-tay
As we were shopping for invitations at Target, Z started inviting random people to his birthday party. Two accepted.

Adventures with LuLu

2009-10-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

My friend Leigh Anne, affectionately known as LuLu to Zachary, has saved the day for Chad and I over the past couple of weeks and taken Z on "dates" for the two of them. She had two stories to share with us:

Zachary does something for Leigh Anne, and she says "Gracias. Do you know what that means?" And he says "I think it is a bad word." It seems Spanish class at TLC is not really paying off for us.

But this one is for Uncle Andrew:

Z and LuLu were in store at the mall and someone walked out with something causing the security system to go off which makes Zachary say "Oh my LuLu -- that is quite alarming!"

Move Mom to Yellow

2009-10-13T09:17:00.001-07:00

I purchased a bunch of pants, leggings, and tights for Rylee yesterday. I was showing Chad my purchases and explaining that shirts can go with pants and not tights but sometimes leggings and dresses can go with leggings and tights but not really pants, etc. Chad looks at me like I have lost my mind, covers his ears, shuts his eyes, shakes his head, and groans really loudly.

Zachary was sitting with us and asked "What is wrong with Dad?"

I said "I think I pushed dad over the edge with my Rylee dress code."

Zachary very seriously responds "You pushed dad over the edge?? I think I need to change your color for that."

Jesus Really Loves Everyone

2009-10-13T09:13:00.000-07:00

Driving the kids home from school last week, I passed by a Halloween store that has a HUGE blow up Frankenstein. Zachary points it out and asks "Who is the big green guy?"

I tell him "Frankenstein."

He says "Oh yeah - Frankenstein - he's friends with Jesus."

That right there made me laugh. Z is not too keen on being laughed at when he is not trying to be funny. So he says "Frankenstein and Jesus ARE friends. Jesus told him to build a boat."

I look back at him and say "Honey - I think that is Noah."

He says "Oh, Noah. Hmmm. No I really think it was Frankenstein."

Just so you know...

2009-09-28T05:59:00.001-07:00

I called Zachary my little boy yesterday and he informed me that he is not my little boy.

"Mom, I am not a little boy. I am a medium boy. Because I growed."

Crossroads

2009-09-08T11:00:00.001-07:00

So I am at one of those points that I am sure will either damage my son forever or teach him how to push past the fear and grow as a person.

Z took swim lessons all summer long - every Wednesday. He did very well - in fact the teacher recommended he move up a level midway through. He volunteered for everything - to go first, to jump in the pool, to be the demonstration - and he looked forward to swim lessons.

Then something happened. The second to last lesson his dream came true. The teacher said he could go down the slide after class. Well he came down quicker than she anticipated and she didn't catch him. After class he told me he would not be doing the slide again. Then after his final class, he told me that he didn't like swim lessons and didn't want to come back anymore. I told him that he started his new class the next week and he said that he wouldn't be going underwater. So I asked him to wait and see what the new teacher was like.

The next Wed was his first class of the advanced beginners with the new teacher. He seemed happy and excited. I went and took my post in the viewing deck and when it was his turn, he started to cry. Not a hollering bawling tantrum cry but a scared, weepy, trying to fight through it cry. For 30 minutes, I watched my son on his turns cling to his swim teacher with a death grip and cry while trying to swim. When it wasn't his turn, he would hop out of the pool and stand and cry. I think my heart broke in a way it has never broken before that day.

I met with the teacher afterwards and she said he can swim. He held on to her but he was doing everything else on his own. She said its nerves and he'll get over it. As I held him shivering in his towel, with his poor sad face, he looked at me and said "Mom, I cried." I told him that it was ok -- I had no clue what else to say in that moment.

Week 2: Z is changing for swim lessons, we are at the pool, and he says he doesn't want to go. I asked him why this time and he says that he doesn't want her, the teacher, to let go of him. I tell him that he needs to talk with his teacher, explain that he is scared, and why he is scared, and she will help. He stops getting ready and looks at me - with that sad face -- and says "Mom I really do not want to go. I am very scared." He again is not pitching a fit or throwing a tantrum. He is genuinely scared.

I am not proud but I resort to a bribe. Please don't roll your eyes at this but I was at a loss. I can't think that quickly. I tell him he can pick out a cookie after swim lessons. I remind him to talk with his teacher and tell her what he is feeling.

So fewer tears this lesson but much much clinging. You can't really swim holding on to someone.

At the end of the lesson, he tells his teacher and everyone -- I get a cookie! So now the world knows I have bribed my son. I am so embarrassed. But strangely proud that Z fought through the fear. But he fought for a cookie. What have I done?!

After he has changed and dried off, we go to pick out the cookie. Before he takes a bite, I tell him that he is getting this cookie because even though he was scared, he tried his best anyway. I made him repeat it to me and tell his dad later why he got the cookie. Because although he was scared, he tried and did his best.

That was last week. He told me yesterday he really does not like swim lessons and doesn't want to go anymore. He has some private swim time with his teacher tonight to help his comfort level before class tomorrow but he is so apprehensive.

So here is my crossroads. If after this private lesson he is still scared, do I make him go? Does it make him a better person to "fight through the fear" at the age of four? Does it keep him from being a quitter later in life and not giving up when there are challenges? Or does it perpetuate a fear of water? Does it take him two months back before all the progress ? Does he resent me for forcing something that can wait six months to readdress?

It is not like he asked to participate in swim lessons. If he had made the commitment and he didn't want to finish because he was bored then my answer is more clear -- he finishes. But this is not that situation. He shook in fear. He cried tears in fear.

I don't want to be "wussy" mom. I don't want to be "bribe my child" mom. My gut says stick it out - he'll work it out over the next few lessons and honestly that is probably what we will do. But this situation brought to light a bigger drama. How do you know when to push and how do you know when to let your child sit it out? How do you know when he will grow from the experience or when he will be scarred by it? It gives me a headache. It gives me a heartache...I can't make the wrong decision.

Oh well - here is hoping that the private lesson works and that Z will once again enjoy going to swim lessons. Otherwise, I may just keep a stash of Oreos in his swim bag.

Vacay Recap by Zachary Martin

2009-09-08T10:37:00.000-07:00

I do the blog for convenience to keep track of things and yet I still don't keep up with the blog. Sad comment on my laziness. Thankfully the Espinozas helped with this one. They are geniuses I tell you.

During our vacation to NJ in July, Jess would ask Z what his favorite part of the day was and he always answered with the last thing we did. So Jess suggested when we get home, we break down the vacation into days and had him draw a picture of each day with his favorite thing. While we didn't actually get to the art work, Chad and I did ask him to tell us his favorite thing for each day was and it worked! Even last week, Z recalled his favorite thing from each "event" on our trip to New Jersey.

So before I forget -

The Beach -- Sand Castles
I have to add that the shells freaked him out. He thought they were pinching him when he walked through the sand and that they were still alive. He wanted to "save" them and had us clear out all the shells around our blanket and throw them back into the ocean.

The Boardwalk -- Rainforest Cafe
I think the boardwalk actually had lots of favorites -- the ice cream, the huge candy store, and the pedi-cab Chad and Z took when it was raining. However Z remembers, the alligator, moving animals, and stuff tiger he got at the cafe. Wait till he finds out there is one here in Dallas!

Storybook Land -- The Rollercoaster
My son rode that rollercoaster FIVE times. He actually was quite the adventurer at this park. Now keep in mind the rollercoaster was called "Bubbles the Coaster" to help you identify the level of scariness. Our godson Lucas who is two like the rollercoaster. But over all I was impressed with Z's willingness to try the "scary" rides.

Visiting the Hogans -- The Airplane Ride
So it wasn't exactly a ride but more of a playground equipment thing but Zachary did not want to get off of it. He "flew" all day. Need to ask where they got that thing.

Visiting Gramps -- Couldn't pick between the Pool and the Truck Race
I can understand Z enjoying the pool although the water was WAY cold and no one really did much swimming but Dad, Chad, and Z all took a brief dip in the pool. Then because it was too cold and too early for dinner we hung out in my dad's hotel room (ugh!) and Zachary watched some Truck Race on Speed Network. I don't know how he even found it interesting other than he likes monster trucks. But my son stared at the TV watching these trucks for at least an hour. Who says 4 year olds have a short attention span?

Visiting Uncle Andrew and Aunt Jessie -- The Basement and Thomas Table
Z was in HEAVEN in the Espinoza's basement. It is like FAO Schwartz and ToysRUs combined for him. Lucas has a train table and all of the sudden Z is back into Thomas. The basement has been beautifully redone and it is a great escape for the kids. All of Lucas' toys are downstairs and we could turn the boys loose and let them play. So I think Chad and I vote for the basement too!!

The vacation was really amazing -- being three blocks from the beach, the time with the Espinozas, and of course the basement.

Z Sets the Record Straight (ha!)

2009-08-11T17:25:00.000-07:00

Zachary and I had quite an interesting conversation in the car today. It went something like this:

Z: Mom, someday Rylee (he pronounces it like Raleigh, NC) will grow up and get married.

MK: You are right she may get married. Do you think you will get married?

Z: Mom you are silly. Only girls get married.

MK: Really? If only girls get married who do they marry.

Z: They marry other girls mom.

MK: But I am married to Daddy.

Z: Mom we have already been over this - he is a boy he can't get married. (He then proceeds to name every girl he knows and says they can get married)

MK: But MiMi is married to PaPa.

Z: (Loud sigh) No mom - girls are supposed to marry girls. That is just how it is.

Prayers before Pizza

2009-08-10T10:10:00.001-07:00

After our standard dinner blessing, Chad added in "Please take care of our family" and when we started to make the sign of the cross, Zachary said "No no - I have a prayer too."

"Transformers are good and trying to save the world. Dear God make me a Transformer to save the world. Make me Optimus Prime with guns instead of hands. Amen."

So either my son is not getting this praying thing at all or maybe he is getting it more than I realize.

Oh how she has grown...

2009-07-28T05:54:00.001-07:00

More documentation since I am too lazy to actually write it in her baby book...

9 month appointment:
18.3 lbs
28" long

12 month appointment:
20.6 lbs - 50%
30.5" long - 90%

She started crawling April 30th -- Chad and I were on vacation so MiMi was the witness - it was her 9 month birthday
She got her two top center teeth May 24th
She got the two top next to center teeth May 30th
- yes they really did come in all around the same time -- four teeth! Overachiever!
Starting walking at school on June 12th and witness by us on June 13th
Two more teeth - bottom - one poked through and one right under the surface July 18th

It seems she only gets teeth on Saturdays! Ok maybe it is a sad comment on the fact that I don't notice these things until the weekend.

Healthy baby girl! We are beyond blessed...

Z Famous Quotes

2009-07-23T18:34:00.000-07:00

While some of these make no sense (and they caused me to say "I am sorry what did you say?") they will certainly make you smile:

"God made waffles from Saturn."

"I am a Caucasian! I am a transformer!"

"Don't cut my toenails - they make me taller."

I saw Z near the bathroom and I yelled (which I seem to do often these days) "Zachary you need to wash your hands" to which he rightfully yelled back " I have to potty first!"

During the year we keep our Christmas tree in the attic and it is an ordeal to pull it down and put it up for storage. At the end of the holidays last year I told Z that it was time to take the Christmas tree down and corrected me "No mom it is time to put the Christmas tree up." He got me on a technicality.

NonAnimated shows are "People Shows"

Carbonated beverages are "Spicy"

Pointing to an RV "Look Mom an annidoe [sounds like antidote w/o the t] - they take lots of people everywhere well except the airport because they don't know how to get to the airport." EDITORS NOTE: Chad pointed out that he is trying to say Winnibago

After eating one of my mother's nasty no sugar, no white flour, lots of fiber muffins he was asked if he liked it to which he responded: "You get used to it."

As a firetruck goes by: "I hope they aren't going to my house. That would be bad." Followed by me saying "You are right that would be bad." To which he replies: "Don't worry Mom - I have a fireman hat and we have a hose. I'll take care of it."

God Bless Us...Every One

2009-06-11T10:54:00.001-07:00

On the way home from Zachary's swim lessons last night, I stopped at QT for gas. I rolled down his window so that we could chat while I pumped. My phone rings and it is Chad telling me to get home now! Apparently the weather is really bad. I look around and sure it is cloudy but no rain and no bad wind. Granted there is an occasional clap of thunder but nothing that I imagine to be too dangerous. But I promise as soon as I am done filling up, we will head home.

So I turn to Z and starting asking about swim lessons and the Plano city tornado sirens go off and we must have been right next to one. Needless to say, my poor son is trying to remain calm but is freaking out on the inside. Hands over his ears saying over and over Mommy there is a siren! Mommy there is siren!

I get in the car and tell him not to worry that we will head home to be with Daddy and Rylee and the siren is only going off to tell us to get home because a storm is coming. He asks if the siren is from a police car (there was one in the QT parking lot) and I tell him that no it is a siren on top of a pole so that everyone can hear it.

He then says -- "Actually it is Chicken Lickin." Hmmmm.....WHAT?

"It is Chicken Lickin." He is very serious.

I still don't get it. I ask who/what is Chicken Lickin? He says the white chicken. So friends, the confusion you are feeling now - I was feeling then. DO WHAT???

He says the little white chicken with the movie. From some recess of my mind I pull out "Do you mean Chicken Little? The sky is falling Chicken Little?"

He said -- "OOOOHH YES! Chicken Little." So we have made some progress. Chicken Lickin is actually Chicken Little. Now to figure out what this has to do with a tornado siren.

Zachary explains that the noise we are hearing is the siren on top of Chicken Little's car. He is driving around blaring the siren to let people know the storm is coming.

I don't remember the movie but perhaps there is a scene with Chicken Little driving around warning people the sky is falling??? Doesn't really matter - point is the Chicken Lickin situation has been explained.

We get home and the weather has definitely gotten worse. My friend Kat calls and says there is a tornado in Hebron and wanted to make sure I knew. Hebron is getting close to Frisco so we hang up to head for a safe place and the power goes out. My son is on the edge again. He wants Chad and I to turn the lights on.

Ugh. No can do buddy. I hate that he is so worked up but trying so hard to stay calm. When did he grow up?

So Chad, Rylee, Z, and I are sitting in the laundry room with our battery operated lantern listening to the horrid wind shake our garage door. I am trying to distract the family and suggest we say a quick prayer to feel better.

We bow our heads and pray for God's protection for our family, Auntie C, Kendall, and Uncle Todd and for the protection of our friends, family, and loved ones and everyone impacted by the storm. We ask protection for our house too but more to keep us all safe. We say amen and then Zachary says -- God please keep Chicken Little safe too.

Chad has no clue and looks at me -- I give him the "later" look and we ride out the storm.

As I am tucking in Zachary for the night, we say our bedtime prayers. We say our "Now I lay me down" prayer and then I throw in something like: Thank you God for keeping us safe and protecting all of us and getting us through the storm. We are grateful for your blessings.

To which Zachary says "and thank you for Chicken Little and his siren. AMEN."

Thank you dear God indeed. AMEN.

The Sock Thief

2009-06-09T18:42:00.000-07:00

Here is just a random tidbit:
We drift from room to room while doing housework. Rylee does her best to keep up, crawling and playing as she goes. Along the way, she has learned that many things can become a play toy.
Lately, she is been getting a little more daring. She really covets her brother's stuff.
Precisely- his footware.
Rylee will take Zachary's socks and use them as a chew toy.
During the latest heist, she grabbed a [clean] sock and bolted out of the room ("bolting" being a hyper-fast diaper-ripping crawl). She went into Zachary's room with the loot and tried to shut the door. Seeing that the law was on her, she immediately shoved it in her mouth to get a few good chews on the sock in before confiscation.
-CMM

The Streets are now Safe

2009-05-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

Today TLC, Z and Rylee's school, is having Community Helper Day where Z's class is supposed to dress up as a Community Helper. Zachary got it into his head that he wanted to be a police officer. We didn't think it would stick but all the way up to last night he talked about being a police officer.

To assist with making him look like a police officer, I bought a very cheap hat and accessories. He wore the hat through out the entire store while I continued shopping. It was amusing to me and the rest of the shoppers as he would say "Officer Zachary here to stop the mean guys" or "Police Officer Zachary to chase cars to make the bad guys stop."

The best is though at home when Zachary got into his "costume" and put on the accessories. The package came with a police baton that looked a little like a shorter smaller version of:

Being the conservative uptight mom, I told him that he could not take that to school. I had visions of the teachers yelling at me that I sent an armed child to school and he was taking care of the bad guys aka classmates.

He didn't understand why I had a problem with him taking it to school. He thought it was a giant whistle or horn. He then stuck the short perpendicular piece in his mouth with the longer portion of the stick up in the air and blew into it trying to make a sound.

Chad and I laughed so hard at our son the police officer with his badge, hat, handcuffs, walkie talkie, and puffing on the baton like a crack pipe. God bless our law enforcement!

Live in the Moment

2009-05-12T07:57:00.000-07:00

Over a month ago, I read a blog that sent me into a whirlwind blogging frenzy. Per his usual, my blogging guru Stuart posted an entry that inspired me to exam more closely than I wanted my horrid temper and lack of patience with my children. In Stu's Stand Up Comedy, he describes a situation between his son and himself and the actions of a bored tired boy. While I recognize that Stuart does "lose his stuff" on some things, overall his approach to raising his boys is nearly the polar opposite of mine. He lets his boys pee outside and watch the Simpsons while I go crazy if Z drips on the seat and I don't even let Z watch Sponge Bob let alone the Simpsons. I have a huge appreciation for Stu and his Lovely Bride's more laid back style despite my, as previous entry's have pointed out, up tight ways that just may suffocate my children .

ANYWAY, I wrote the temper/discipline blog as honest as I could and for that reason I suppose I am too chicken to post (Sorry Stu -- not there yet with putting it out there!) Boils down to - I ride Z too hard but in the moment I can't seem to remember that I need to chill. Only after time and I simmer down do I realize how I overreact. I am not a patient mother and again times like right now I am embarrassed and hurt that I would ever yell at Z for the things I do and I don't want him to remember me like that or far worse to become like that. Anyone have ideas on how to remove the cob that is shoved pretty far up my hind end? Kudos to Chad to try and balance my skitzo ways with some stable parenting!

So then my sister in law sends the following Mother's Day Post and provides me with another gentle reminder to take it easy, down a notch, and love my children for time is rushing by me as they grow and change every day. I pray that I will remember to Live in the Moment - not worry about pee dribbles or why Z can't sit still for dinner or gets out of bed for the 10th time to tell me he had MacNCheese for lunch at school. I want to enjoy that Rylee is crawling and cruising instead of groaning in frustration that I can't get anything done because she is getting into things. I truly do want to take time with my children like Stuart did to talk not yell about actions and consequences when the time calls for it and I want to just let it go when in the grand scheme of life it really isn't a big deal.

So the challenge to me and to anyone willing to try -- LIVE IN THE MOMENT!

By Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author: All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there some thing wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China . Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, 'Remember-When- Mom-Did Hall of Fame.' The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, 'What did you get wrong?'. (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

Ponderance of the Hour

2009-05-05T14:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know the right answer to this question so I pose it to you:

If Chad did not notice my smiley behind until the store or say at a cocktail party -- does he mention it to me once we are out at the event and I die of embarrassment or does he not say a thing and let me live in ignorance???

POST SCRIPT ENTRY: OK the winner is STUART TINSLEY of Team Tinsley fame...once again having to point out the obvious to me. Must say a little embarrassing not to have figured it out on my own!!

Overdue Update

2009-04-10T12:24:00.001-07:00

Since Rylee has her 9 month appointment on Monday -- I thought I should probably record her six months stats from her appointment in January and Z's 4 year appointment in Feb.

RYLEE

6 months:
26 1/2 inches long
16 1/2 pounds

Got her first tooth Feb 7th and second March 7th.
Finally started rolling on Feb 21st.
Bumper Pad went away on March 8th...see the QPM entry from March and you'll understand
She is WAY different than Zachary. She is not consistently sleeping through the night. Makes for grouchy parents.
She can tell the difference between Chad and my parenting styles and adjusts her needs as such. This means she will cry relentlessly if she needs something from me because I am a wimp and will respond. With Chad she needs only giggle and blink because crying with him gets her no where.
She loves to stand and last weekend did make crawling motions.
She has a wonderful laugh and she likes to put her finger in your mouth and yank it right back out.
Anything Zachary does entertains her.
She does not like having to eat her veggies first. If you bring out her fruit and put it on the table but don't plan on giving it to her until after veggies, there will be a battle.
Still nursing but this week only once a day and that will go away next week. Still drinking the frozen milk but I am not pumping (YAY!) --- TMI I know

ZACHARY

4 years old
41 inches tall
37 pounds

His latest thing is to say "My Pleasure." when you thank him for something. Cracks me up.
He can count to over 30 and can count backwards from 20.
He is still working out the math situation - we asked him what one plus one is and he said "Eleven" - fair enough one and one can make 11.
He did get glasses - he is 20/50 in one eye but both eyes have an astigmatism. Dr. hopes that wearing glasses now will help how much he needs them in the future.
I think his entire diet includes dino chickens (chicken in the shape of dinosaurs), Spiderman Mac-N-Cheese (remember he has never seen the movie!), milk, and a strong desire for candy at every moment. He'll still eat broccoli, green beans, carrots, and corn but it takes some gentle nudging.
His teacher always have such good things to say about him -- while I am sure they are on some level required to say that I do believe they are right about him being smart, friendly, and a good kid...said the unbiased mother.
Still working on the staying dry through the night but definitley no accidents during the day. Couldn't tell you the last time we had an issue. However there is something about being in Target that triggers his "gotta go" reflex. I can ask him 15 times before we start shopping if we need to stop at the bathroom but only when the cart is half full is it time.
Current obsessions include Bolt, Legos (building castles and playing with knights), and occasionally still WallE.

Chad and I are blessed with two very healthy kiddos. We are thankful to God for his blessings.

Happy Easter to all!

Check Out the Intestines!

2009-04-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

I know Chad and I have to get on the ball with some real posts but this is still cracking me up and instead of forwarding to all of you via email I am sharing on the blog -- my children will have proof of how geeky I am or actually how geeky their dad is since he sent it to me!!

Slumber in the Belly of the Beast

In the sub-zero wasteland of the planet Hoth, only the strong survive... and of course those lucky Jedi protected by the thick skin of a Tauntaun. Now after exhaustive movie viewing research and analysis ThinkGeek Labs has isolated the exact synthetic compounds needed to re-create Tauntaun fur. What have we done with this supreme knowledge? Created a Tauntaun sleeping bag of course.

This high-quality sleeping bag looks just like a Tauntaun, complete with saddle, internal intestines and glowing lightsaber zipper pull. Now when your kids tell you their favorite Star Wars movie is "Attack of the Clones" you can nestle the wee-ones snug in simulated Tauntaun fur while regaling them with the amazing tale of "Empire Strikes Back".

Use the glowing lightsaber zipper pull on the Tauntaun sleeping bag to illustrate how Han Solo saved Luke Skywalker from certain death in the freezing climate of Hoth by slitting open the belly of a dead Tauntaun and placing Luke inside the stinking (but warm) carcass. If your kids don't change their tune on which Star Wars film is the greatest ever, you can do your best Jar Jar impression until they repent.

Product Features

Classic Star Wars sleeping bag simulates the warmth of a Tauntaun carcass
Built-in embroidered Tauntaun head pillow
Glowing Lightsaber zipper pull
Great for playing pretend "Save Luke from the Wampa" games
Teach your children about the best Star Wars movie ever
Fully Licensed Lucasfilm™ Collectable
Fits children (and small adults)
100% Polyester construction, Machine washable
Exterior Dimensions - 32" x 60"

check out: http://www.thinkgeek.com/stuff/41/tauntaun.html for original post

This May Qualify as a QPM

2009-03-16T18:59:00.000-07:00

Ummmm where is Rylee's head????

Maybe it is time to take out the bumper....

To Spot or Not

2009-02-25T15:05:00.000-08:00

So today is the start of Lent -- the 40 day count down to Easter (less Sundays!) and we Catholics start it off with Ash Wednesday. My friend Lady Steele and I went to mass together over lunch and after the service we both turned to each other and said -- "How long do we leave them on?"

This question is one I deal with every year. The first reading during mass is all about not "showing off" your sacrifices, commitments and your suffering. Don't boast about your fasting and yet I leave mass with a big black mark highlighting my trip to mass and my journey into lent.

I feel like the ashes are just a beacon for people to mention that I have dirt, grease, or a smudge of the unknown on my forehead. Then I have to tell them "Oh no it is supposed to be there -- it's not a spot-it's a cross...of ash. It's Ash Wednesday." That then leads to the question I HATE the most -- "So what are you giving up?" If I am giving something up, that is definitely between God and myself. My sacrifices or commitments to do something are very personal even if it is just chocolate or not listening to the radio on the way to work to spend time in prayer. Not really your business. But I am wearing this very obvious black mark on my head that will make people ask.

So that leads me again to the reading -- don't boast or show off -- and yet I wear a big mark that says asks me why this is on my head.

Lady Steele pointed out that we are also to minister and share our faith and this is a perfect time. Explain what Lent is about and how we take time to become closer to God during this season. While she is utterly and completely correct, it doesn't take away that we will get asked "What are you giving up?" Dodging that question doesn't make me popular either. I try in the nicest way possible to say Not Your Business and people either continue to goad - "come on -- what is it?" Or get huffy and say - "I am just asking."

So back to the original question: How long do we leave these on? Mine made it to about 4 pm when a co-worker snickered in my doorway. He said it looked like a giant target on my forehead.

Pass the Valium Please

2009-02-19T12:41:00.000-08:00

Back in November my friend Michelle (Ok…so… author) sent me a forward about a little boy named Jamie Bulger. You may or may not remember his story when it happened in 1993 but I assure you if you do any research you will never forget. I have kept this email in my inbox for now three months because it started this blog entry swirling in my head. This three year old little boy is abducted by two ten year old boys and tortured to death. It sucked the breath right out of my body and the horror I felt practically froze me as my imagination created pictures of the unspeakable. It re-enforced my internal struggle of freedom for my son and protection for him – where is that balance? I am sure all of us have heard that God never gives you more than you can handle. So does that mean because I don’t think I can handle my children have something horrific happened to them that they are safe? Or that I need not worry if something does happen to my kids – I can handle it?

From the moment Zachary was born, I have worried about everything - stupid stuff to the more important but definitely everything including raising him to be polite, generous, loving, assertive, and not a weenie doormat. I was (or perhaps should say am) a nerd. Always have been a bit on the social quirky side and definitely not a cool kid. Chad will also tell you he did not have the best of jr high / high school experiences. So our kids receive a double whammy and are already in the negative cool points giving them a harder hill to climb when it comes to making friends, social situations, and basic childhood survival. I am not looking for my kids to win a popularity contest – I want them to be comfortable in their own skin (I know I know - not possible for teenagers) and I do want them to be well liked and not getting wedgies or having ugly things said about them. I am not completely unrealistic – there are growing pains – there will be hurt feelings and lonely feelings because it is a sucky part of the rite of passage but I don’t want my kids to be the geek. I realize as I type how shallow it is but I have to admit it is true. My blog guru wrote about a boy in his son’s class and called him Ralph. I do not want Z or Rylee to be Ralph. Do you think Ralph’s parents know that he is a Ralph?

While both of these incidents are not really related they feed into my insecurities as a parent. I know that I can’t keep my children locked up so that no one abducts them, or no one hurts them physically or emotionally. I realize they will learn and grow with each misstep and each broken heart. I know I can teach them Stranger Danger and to look both ways before crossing the street. I know I can tell them Sticks and Stones and talk about personal space with others. However, I would like it to be clearly outlined please. Tell me how to raise a child that will not be in harm’s way or have a target painted on their back that says please dunk my head in the toilet.

If I promise not to keep him in a bubble, do I get a promise that he will be safe? If I swear that I will let him out of my embrace, can I be assured that at the end of the day he can return to my arms? If I teach him to be conscientious, and gracious, can I be told for sure that he will have strength to stand on his own and not be walked all over. If I encourage him to voice his opinion and believe in himself, can I please have a guaranty that he will not be a bully?

This entry is dripping with drama and perhaps should be two separate entries but there is a part of this production that constantly plays out in my head. I want to keep my kids safe with out stunting them socially. How do you know how tight to hold on? When to step in? When to throw them in the deep end to let them swim? How much is too much and how much is not enough? Has my preoccupation doomed them?

Ugh and sigh….
So how do I stop this obsessive worrying?
Medication?
That’s what I thought.

The one I haven't met yet

2009-01-27T21:44:00.000-08:00

There is a stranger in the house. Doesn't talk much, basically self centered, but she is making the gradual effort to fit in. A stare here, a giggle there; she is coming around.

I get to meet a little more of her each day.

The unlocking of her little mind is an incredible journey. Each day, some epiphany blooms on her face. Someday soon, I'll forget that she wasn't all here at first. I'll forget that all we got was a cry for communication. But- I hope I also always remember that she was contented to show love by snuggling under my chin. -CMM

Your Daily Dose of QPM

2009-01-23T13:14:00.000-08:00

So yesterday morning I faced an interesting dilemma. My son has horrible dry skin issues which also affect his lips. He is constantly licking his lips giving him the raw-peely-you-tell-by-looking-it-hurts lips. Chad and I frequently slather both our children with Aquaphor hoping that their skin will someday be smooth and not so red, bumpy and itchy.

In the rush to get out the door, I was a bad mom. Totally forgot and did not smear my son with the miracle vaseline. So as I was getting him out of the car at school, I notice those poor, pathetic, cracked to point of bleeding (TOLD YOU I was a bad mom) lips. I started digging around my purse for my chapstick and I could only find Burt's Bees tinted lip balm.

Decision time. In this quandary do I:

A. Leave him miserable with those bleeding lips
or
B. Coat his lips with Fig Lip Shimmer

The answer is best summed up by this question from Zachary – “Mommy why are you making me wear lipstick?”

I wonder if he said anything to his teacher or friends. Maybe they didn’t notice the reddish/brown color on my son’s lips. Or maybe his teacher and classmates thought he drank some koolaid at breakfast.

A Pictures is Worth...A Giggle!

2009-01-14T10:58:00.000-08:00

On the trip home from San Angelo after Christmas, Zachary watched Wall-E. The movie got us from San Angelo to almost Cisco (about 2 hrs.) He then pulled out the movie he wanted to watch next (a Thomas one ) and wanted me to switch it out for him. About the same time Rylee woke up and was fussy. I asked Chad if we could stop for a break in Cisco and listening to our two children complain he was happy to oblige.

However when we got to I-20 and Cisco there wasn't a good place to stop so we decided to travel on to Eastland nine miles down the road. We usually stop there anyway, I just thought with antsy kids we could try Cisco -- now we know better.

So I explain to Z that we will stop in about 10 mins and I will change out his movie then. I try to comfort Rylee without seeing her since her seat is behind me. I talk in that annoying sing-song voice and call her name. In the mean time, Zachary keeps asking if I will switch his movie. UGH!

With about two miles to go, I reassure Zachary that we are about to stop and I will change the movie then. Rylee has settled -- either annoyed that we aren't paying attention to her or lulled to contentment by my sing-songing voice.

We exit at Eastland, pull into McDonalds, and I turn around and see this:

Notice the movie on his finger (so he doesn't get fingerprints on the DVD) ready to be changed. In the less than five minutes from my last assurance, he completely passed out.

I told Chad that we should go ahead and stop since I needed to feed Rylee anyway. I open the car door to get her out and she too has passed out in that brief five minutes!!

Crack me up these kids -- vacation -- especially Christmas vacation -- is exhausting!

My Children, My Love

2009-01-12T13:12:00.000-08:00

My mom told me when I was pregnant with Zachary that having a child is like having your heart walk around outside of your body. I also remember reading something like that in a Chicken Soup book somewhere along the way. I am quite sure that any parent will attest this statement is very true.

I am stunned at the emotions and feelings my children can illicit just by being them. The joy and the frustration and the wonder – anything they feel effects me. The intensity can be frightening to me.

Over the holidays, Rylee got sick. Like ugly-vomiting-if-wasn’t-sleeping-was-crying sick. At one point, probably about 2 in the morning, I just cried holding her. I love her so much and couldn’t do a thing for her but hold her and pray that the vomiting would end soon. How unfair that she can’t tell me what hurts or what makes her feel better.

This past weekend, Zachary was running a fever over 101 – he felt like he could fry an egg on his forehead. During his sleep, he was shivering, laying in a pool of his sweat, and moaning. At one point he called out for me and I ran into his room wanting to fix it.
I was amazed at how much love I could feel for my child and the helplessness that came with it.

It seems awfully ironic – the people I want to do the most for (specifically Chad, Z, and Rylee) I only have limited things I can do. I look at my kids with their beautiful eyes taking in all that is around them and I cringe at the thought of heartbreak and failures that lie ahead for them – again things I can not control. The tears they will cry from outside forces or self induced decisions and the ones that I will cry along with them scares me a little.

That I can love another so much is a gift. I love Chad with a love I know is from God – there is no way what I feel is something other than divine, holy, and spiritual but that is a blog for another day. With my children it is an awesome power and responsibility. Think Spiderman.

My friend Stephanie (Lady Steele) posted the words to In My Daughter’s Eyes by Martina McBride The wisdom of the iPhone. Although I am not familiar with the song, I was struck by the words and panicked by the pressure. What happens when they figure out I can’t fix everything, I don’t really know all the answers, and I am faking this parent thing? According to Martina, right now they look at me like a hero – strong and wise. Gulp.

There are so many things I am that I don’t want to pass on to my kids. There are so many things I want them to believe and have passion for that aren’t in my makeup. I know who I want to be in my children’s eyes but I am not that person. I know who I want them to be but don’t know how to get them there.

And yet despite the illnesses I can not cure, the tears that will come, the “winging” it with the parental stuff, and the flawed human mom that I am, I am grateful to God that He would trust Chad and me with these two precious lives. Thank you for showing me all that comes with love.

So I will remember when...

2009-01-09T11:19:00.000-08:00

This post is for documentation – no punch line at the end…I just want to remember these days.

On Sunday (Jan 4) Rylee started sitting up almost by herself, and then on Monday she was definitely up 15+ seconds. If she leaned forward or backward, she could upright herself like a weeble-wobble however if she tipped right or left she was down for the count.

Then last night when I came home Chad had me run to her room to watch her flip over from her back. She isn’t quite making it all the way but her shoulders and one leg (yes awkward) roll over. Soon enough she’ll be tossing and turning in addition to that leg thumping thing she does at night.

She has had a runny nose (clear snot) for over four weeks now. If I am done with her snot bubbles, heavy panting, and inability to breathe out her nose, I can’t imagine how she is feeling. This nose situation in addition to a scary little cough and an outbreak of RSV at school had me taking her to the doctor on Monday. Apparently she has a cold so we will have to just wait out the snotty nose. But I ask you does a child’s snotty nose really ever run out?

At this same appointment, Dr. Berger asked about the rash that was all over her body. I had noticed the rash and assumed it was eczema because I had been REALLY bad about watching my dairy intake over the holiday (it’s cranberry bliss season people! Who really has the strength to say no to that goodness?!?!!) I had been suffering the guilt only a mother can feel when her lack of willpower causes her sweet innocent baby such ugly harm. Dr. Berger came to my rescue in a sort of twisted way. She said it looked like a strep rash (didn’t even know strep had a rash!) and tested little Ms. R. Sure enough it was strep and even better it's treatable!! After one dose of antibiotics, her rash had faded and by the third dose it was gone completely. Now if that runny nose would just disappear too.

Sunday night I had the greatest time with Zachary. We sat on Chad and I’s bed and he made me “gorgeous.” He took hair brushes, combs, clips, make up brushes, foundation sponges, and eye makeup and he fluffed and patted and yanked and brushed for at least 20 minutes making me “gorgeous.” And that is his word – gorgeous. Chad says it is from a robot in the Wall-E movie. He tries to say it with a bit of an east coast accent along with “I'm good honey – I'm good” also in this strange east coast sounding accent. I would have busted out laughing if I weren’t enjoying all of this attention. He kept saying – “Mommy it takes a lot to make you gorgeous or we still aren’t done-you are not gorgeous yet” – while sounding like backhanded comments to a random observer they were sweet lovely words for a mom being pampered by her son. So on Wednesday after he got his haircut and was sitting in the chair, I said “you look gorgeous.” My little man was mortified. He shook his head and said “No Mommy. Please don’t say that to me.” Was this my first (as I know there will be thousands more) time for embarrassing my son in public?? He is definitely growing up too fast for me to keep up with. He moved to the next room at school – he is PreK 1 with the other four year olds. But he isn’t four! At least not for 39 more days…did I mention it is moving fast?

Z Quotes

2009-01-07T19:49:00.000-08:00

Just a few quick Zachary quotes for the evening:
Tonight he read a story about a pal-a-kitder (The Very Hungery Caterpiller).
Z has figured out what he wants for next christmas: "I want a power ranger, the one with a motorcyle with it. And a tinkerbell."

The QPM Game

2009-01-02T08:52:00.000-08:00

I had to tag on to Chad's QPM entry on Dec 30th. I am the queen of QPMs -- in fact Chad may have coined that phrase for me. And as "cute" as the question period is supposed to be in a young boy's life, it can make a parent totally nutty.

Z and I spent the majority of the drive to school in a simple banter:

Z: Why are you dropping me off at school?
MK: Because Daddy is picking you up.
Z: Why is Daddy picking me up?
MK: Because I am dropping you off.
Z: Why are you dropping me off at school?
MK: Because Daddy is picking you up.
Z: Why is Daddy picking me up?
MK: Because I am dropping you off.

Over and over and over

And it is the daily conversations like this that have lead to a HUGE QPM by Chad and me. We have turned this into a game. We have taken this precious time in our son's life and turned it into a competition. Call up CPS now...

Whoever can answer Zachary's question with something that keeps him from asking another or changes the subject gets a point. Whoever can simply stump our son into complete silence gets ten points. Yes we are evil. And after reading about Chad's elephant answer in the previous post, I am sure you know HE is winning.

a QPM

2008-12-30T20:43:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, while we are rushing through our adult lives, we forget that everything we do influences the devolpment of our children. Our lives should be an inspiration at all times to our offspring.
That being said- don't ask Zachary what caused the large pothole in the daycare parking lot.

You see- Z has entered the question period. Everything triggers a question. Everything.
One morning, on the way to daycare, I had reached my limit to answering questions. The main entry to daycare was blocked to repair a large pothole in the approach. When Z asks why there was a hole, I told him that it broke when an elephant sat on it. That satisfied him for a moment, until he asked where the elephant went. I replied that he went home with Elvis. (Elvis was a blow up that was promoting a sub shop down the street. Z still misses Elvis to this day).
Going further- when Z asks why the entry was still blocked after a couple of days, I replied they were afraid the elephant might come back so they wanted to keep it away ( I really didn't want to explain the 28-day yield strength of concrete to a three year old.)
This is a QPM. A Questionable Parenting Moment. Things that could help build CPS's case to declare you unfit to be a parent. While the infraction above is not a severe one, it is a basic example. I am sure that I will create many many more.

Now- a few Z quotes:
"Can I have a Crownie?"
"Mommy, you're not gorgeous yet. [fluff, fluff; pat, pat; the best 3-year-old imitation of the cosmetic bot from Wall-E] now you're gorgeous."

4 Months Already

2008-11-25T11:20:00.000-08:00

Just a quick stat update. Rylee had her 4 month check up and subsequent buffet of shots...always pleasant.

She is 14.65 lbs and 25 1/2" long -- 75 and 90th percentiles respectively. She laughed on Sunday -- sweet laugh. Apparently this morning she rolled over twice for Chad.

She is a healthy girl but is dealing with a nasty case of eczema. The doctor has asked me to give up dairy for a while to see if that helps. Grand week to try to give up dairy -- banner Thanksgiving! But if it helps my poor little itchy girl I am willing to try. Do you know that even chicken nuggets have dairy in them??? Ugh.

The other blow we received yesterday is apparently she is too long for her infant carrier. I argued with Dr. Berger about this for a few minutes until she showed me on the carrier where it said it is good until the child is 26." We were kind of hoping that we could make it until February when Z will be 4 yrs old and 40 lbs which is enough to go into a booster seat. Rylee would then move into Z's seats. It would be ridiculous to purchase 2 new seats for just a few months. Course it is safer to keep Z in a five point harness and his seats hold up to 80 lbs. It is just his feet don't fit behind the front seat very well anymore. Oh well. Maybe she won't grow 1/2" in three months -- what do you think?

I've Been Tagged

2008-11-19T12:09:00.000-08:00

I have seen these "TAG" things on blogs before. I enjoy reading them but have never experienced it personally. Really never gave any thought to doing it. However I was "tagged" by Michelle (Ok...So... author), then nudged on by Britta (Vice Chancellor of Sunshine) and I am much too lazy to come up with my own entry this week (Annual Thanksgiving Party prep is wearing me down!) So I am going to participate - if it doesn't intrigue you, so be it - skip this entry.

10 Years Ago I...
1. LIVED in Arlington, Texas and was planning the first ATP...just didn't know it was the beginning of the tradition. We were just inviting friends over to drink!
2. DROVE a long way to my job in Dallas in my 1991 Mazda Protege. It was affectionately known as Leprosy-mobile because it's white paint started to patchwork peel like it was diseased. I bought that car for $5,000 in 1992 and drove it until 2003. It was ugly but it was good to me.
3. WORKED at Parker College of Chiropractic in the Post-Graduate / PSPS seminars department. My friend Barrie got me the job but then moved to New Jersey -- no correlation between her move and my working there...at least I don't think so. The work environment shifted and became awkward and negative (again no correlation between Barrie's departure and the hell that took over Parker) but I can't dog it too much since it got me into the trade show business and I have had two jobs since then and LOVED both of them.
4. TOOK A ROAD TRIP to Lubbock to help my friend Marge pack up her stuff and move in with Leigh Anne and Drew in Bedford. I eventually shared an apartment with Marge - for nearly 2 1/2 years.
5. DISCOVERED that I was totally in love with Chad Martin. Can't believe it has been ten years but then again I feel like he has been my best friend my whole life.

5 Things on Today's To Do List
1. Clean the house for the ATP
2. Shop for food for the ATP
3. Cook food for the ATP
4. Set up the house for the ATP
5. Pick up Marge from the airport for the ATP

I am a little frightened that the ATP is consuming my world. I have two wonderful children that may like some affection and attention not to mention some meals from their mother.

5 Snacks I Enjoy
It may be easier to list 5 snacks I don't enjoy because I eat most everything so picking just 5 -- what is that about??!
1. Chips and Queso
2. Carrots and Spinach Dip
3. Salami Rolls
4. Crackers and Allouette
5. Fruit

Funny this is the appetizer list for this weekend. Very strange.

5 Places I Have Lived
1. Lubbock, TX
2. Columbia, MO
3. Broken Arrow, OK
4. Toms River, NJ
5. Baubenhausen, Germany

5 Jobs I Have Had
1. Operations Supervisor - Worlds of Fun
2. Residential Life Director - Texas Tech
3. Hotel Operator - Hilton Grapevine
4. Strategic Account Manager - Exhibitgroup/Giltspur
5. Operations Manager - Hanley Wood Exhibitions

I find it kind of funny that I went from Operations Supervisor to Operations Manager -- not amusing to anyone but me I am sure.

I will consider this entry additional documentation for my children and not a way to get out of doing a blog this week.

Words no parent ever wants to hear 1

2008-11-12T19:25:00.000-08:00

(I am sure this will become a series)

This evening as we were finishing up supper, I was holding Rylee, MK was finishing her meal, and Zachary was squirming to get up. Finally, after squeezing a “May I please be excused” out of him, we let Z get up from the table to wash up. MK and I started our daily catch-up small talk when we hear the phrase that makes my blood run cold:

“Mommy and Daddy! The poddy is making a tewibble mess!”

MK and I look at each other horrified. I toss Rylee across the table and bolt for the bathroom. Sure enough, the toilet is overflowing and proceeding to fill the bathroom with a good ½ inch of water and micro bits of poo. Uck.
Z looked up at me with that innocent but vaguely smirking face. Dumbfounded, I somehow I managed to get the water off and the toilet plunged.
Was it too much toilet paper? Structural poo? We’ll never know. Z is not quite old enough to be malevolent, but I still couldn’t help being irritated. This is not how I wanted to spend my evening. Luckily it was bathtime, so MK wisked Z and Ry off to our bathroom while I mopped up the mess in theirs.
It wasn’t as bad as we thought, and all was soon good as er- used.
Upon her return, Mary Kate quips, “You always end up with the crappy jobs.”

EPILOGUE: The next morning, Z would flush the toilet and watch it go down. Flush the toilet and watch it go down. Flush the toilet and watch it go down... After every time, he would yell, " Daddy! It works a-gain!"

Showing My Blue Color

2008-11-12T13:50:00.000-08:00

I guess it is time that I came out of the closet. Some of you already know, some suspect, but I think most of you are going to be shocked:

I am a conservative liberal.

What does this mean? I voted for Barack Obama and am so thrilled he won. I don’t agree with all his points but more often than not we see eye to eye on things.

Some may question why this is a big deal however the ten of you that actually read this blog are probably already aware of why that is a big deal. I count on our friendship remaining in tact after this admission but know that it could be changed.

(OBAMA SPEAKING IN DENVER photo by Jamey Leonard - thanks bro!)

I have never been one to discuss politics for several reasons. I don’t always feel educated on all of the topics enough to debate someone. Passions run so high where politics are concerned that generally speaking you are not going to convert someone to your way of thinking so why even get in a discussion where you end up getting mad and frustrated. I am also a Catholic in Texas which means I am surrounded by people who overall do not view politics with the same eye as me. It boils down to I am a chicken and avoid wearing an indication of blue on my sleeve.

I really get angry though at some of the statements I hear. How now people are praying for our country because of the election results – why weren’t they praying all along??? Or how Obama will be known as “the Abortion President.” Really? That is what his legacy is going to be? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING!!! I recognize it is my own fault that I sit in silence seething at the remarks made about Democrats or how the country is now dead because Obama will be president. (There is a guy in the metroplex that actually hung a black flag {symbol of death} over an upside down American flag {symbol of distress} in protest of the election.) I do not have the confidence to out myself in this environment.

Up to the election, I received tons of emails (didn’t we all!) on how Obama is evil or for the sake of my children I have to vote for McCain. These emails came from my friends. On Facebook, I had friends say how proud they are that their kids voted for McCain in the school election or use their status update for McCain publicity. Please understand that I fully support their right to pick the candidate that works for them. If McCain is the candidate that is aligned closest to their beliefs, then I do expect them to support, campaign for, and vote for McCain. However, I did not feel I had the same option.

On Tuesday, November 4 at about 8:30 west coast time, I was sitting with my boss and another person for dinner when Chad texted me “McCain conceded.” My boss did not believe me and had me call Chad to verify. I was so excited but dare not say a word. My boss is a vocal Republican so I cheered in my head and let them discuss this turn of events.

I really do feel this is a risky move to make my political thoughts public. I have a friend I have known for years that a while back sent me an email to boycott a toy company. I want to say that it was American Girl (don’t quote me on it!) that supported a shelter or after school club or some organization for at risk girls to help them create a future. Although not the primary function of the group, the reason I was to boycott it was because they provide a safe environment for girls that are lesbians and they also provide counseling for those who had an abortion. The email called for me to boycott the company and to pass along to all in my address book. I wrote back to my friend and said that I could not pass the email along for I thought the organization’s goals sounded like good ones. She responded with something that amounted to “then you are not who I thought you were.”

My family even wasn’t sure where I stood. My mother-in-law was shocked to find out that I was happy to have Obama as president. My brother (a VERY outed liberal) said he wasn’t really sure what side of the fence I was on for the election. It was at that time I decided to write this entry.

I want my children to have confidence in their beliefs and stand by their decisions even if they are in the minority. I did my research for the election. I compared the candidates and their stances. I find that Obama and the more liberal positions represent my views best. Why am I so afraid to say that? Am I a bad Catholic or bad Christian? Am I getting booted out of Texas?? The repercussion will be my friends will now look at me differently because “I am not who they thought I was.” It is hard to swallow that people may lose respect for me based on my liberal views. As a people pleaser and someone who cherishes my relationship with God, I really struggle with this. I guess I could be blowing this out of proportion but I know some of my Catholic and/or Texas friends will shake their heads in disappointment. I should take a step back here though. I should also consider giving credit to my friends that may just shrug their shoulders and say “whatever – let’s agree to disagree.” I just feel like that won’t happen as much as I want it to.

So now I stand before you ten people that read this blog and anyone else that stumbles upon it feeling very vulnerable to criticism and judgment. I will be stronger for it. I am so proud to be one of those that help put Obama in the oval office. I want Zachary and Rylee to know that I am part of that history – not just the first African American but the one that will bring freshness and energy to the position. I will try to wear more blue.

I appreciate the support some of you gave me for branching out on this blog to more than just kiddo stories. Maybe next time I’ll pick a topic less controversial like the war in Iraq or religion! HA!

It's ALLLLL about MK

2008-11-08T09:15:00.000-08:00

So this MartinRandomness blog is supposed to be about my children. Chad and I created it as an electronic baby book initially to capture stuff like Zachary is "X" inches tall or Rylee rolled over today. Then it occurred to us that we can document short stories that made us laugh or say "oh how sweet." In this venture into blogland, I became interested in others blogs. I follow five of them very closely. All five with different styles and focus.

Britta and Shelly's blogs are of the West Texas variety. Meaning they make me want to crack open a beer and catch up on their family. You feel their personalities through their writing - you sense how warm Britta is and what a firecracker Shelly is. You understand the scope of love they have for their sons. They are both so consistent about posting pictures and providing family updates. I check in with them almost daily for a quick hit of their charm and fun.

Stephanie and Michelle are my random bloggers. I assure you this is a compliment. They tend to write what is on their mind at the time - sometimes politics, sometimes the art of concrete mixing, sometimes the idiots at Sam's club or even Eddie Izzard. Sure their family is mentioned but it is not necessarily the focus. You get to know them by their opinions and observations of friends, family, and mankind. They articulate themselves in a way that is captivating and leaves you wanting more when the entry is finished. These are sassy witty women who keep it interesting.

And then there is Stuart. His blog is actually the inspiration for ours. He is keeping a record for his boys for the "Buck Rogers Future." I must tread lightly here for I feel I lean towards stalker when it comes to this blog. Stuart presents a very honest and open picture of not just his boys but of himself. It is so revealing and so personal you feel like you know the Tinsley Family. I feel like I was actually there for whatever event Stuart is describing. I laughed so hard (like milk out the nose laughing) at his entry called Hope Springs Eternal (I dare you to read it and not do the same!!) and I openly cried (snot, tears, and all) and had my heart break as I read about the death of his mother and the waves of aftershocks he continues to feel. His writing draws me in completely.

Now you are intrigued as to why I am providing this blog review. Other than taking a moment to let these wonderful amazing bloggers know how much I admire their writing, appreciate their sharing, and asking them to keep blogging the good stuff - these five unique individuals - actually six when you count my husband - have me thinking. Should this MartinRandomness blog contain more MK stories? (Chad too!) Should the entries branch out to topics on my brain? If I am (sorry - if we are) creating this blog for Zachary and Rylee's Buck Rogers future (credit Stuart Tinsley) will they want to see me too?

My memories of my mom and dad are parental ones - cheering at soccer games, making me do chores, that type of stuff. I have no clue what was important to them or worried them or amused them other than my brother and me. They weren't humans -- they were parents. I do have to say now that I am older and can appreciate them as people with thoughts and emotions outside of kids, I do wonder what it was like for them when they were my age.

So assuming in the future Z & Rylee are interested in the Chad and MK of 2008, the next question becomes am I willing to be that vulnerable? Can I allow myself to be truly honest like Stuart and my other blogging gurus? Will I expose my insecurities, flaws, and issues along side my passions and my loves? I would have to destroy any illusion my kids may have of me as June Cleaver. OK maybe that is a tad dramatic but that is me -- do I really want them to know that I am a drama queen?? What about the weird stuff I think about? Or my bizarre trains of thought?

My final quandary (love that word) is that unlike my favorite bloggers I do not have the same skill in storytelling. I ramble. It's ok to agree. I know it. Chad agrees too. I go on and on and on etc. If you look at the five blogs I admire you will notice they are concise and not lengthy without getting to the point. I mean how long has it taken you to get through this entry?

Additionally, unlike my blogging cohorts or my husband, I am not really a great writer. You get a sense about them from their writing while mine does not provide the reader with an picture of me that has depth or dimension.

So by posting this entry I guess I have my answers:

1. I will assume the kids will be interested in peeking at their parents and how
they were in 2008
2. I just won't reveal all of my wonky ways and kooky thoughts
3. Let's just hope practice makes perfect and I'll eventually keep blog entries
under 300 words.

I guess this means be on the look out for more Deep Thoughts by MK and Chad. Besides, if I change my mind I can always hit delete!!

3 month old diaper toss

2008-11-05T20:13:00.000-08:00

Coming to an Olympic venue near you!

We’ve all been there: in a hurry, trying to get out the door somewhere, when your precious darling excretes the foulest substance known to man all over the diaper and through the sides. How could something so foul come from such cuteness?
Anyway, during one of the frantic cleanup sessions (clock ticking), I carefully folded the toxic bundle and set it to the side in order to catch the last ‘finishing’ wipes. That is when my bundle of joy did one of her thrusting kicks. This, in itself, is not bad. But the precious little foot had a precious little sock on it that caught the Velcro tab on the diaper. On the return kick, the diaper went with it- CONTAINMENT BREACH! (did I mention tick tock tick tock?) So old diaper kisses the new diaper, clean bottom is re-soiled, OUTFIT #2 is toast, and daddy gets to change shirts. Tick tock OH WHATEVER.
This is finished up with the smile to end all smiles. Yes little one, you are worth it!

Healthy food is for someone else

2008-11-05T20:11:00.000-08:00

As we pulled into the Walgreen’s parking lot, we pass a health food store.
Zachary asks, “What’s THAT store?”
“It’s a health food store” I reply.
“What’s that got in there?”
“Well, they have all sorts of natural foods that are healthy and good for you.”
Z states, “So it probly doesn’t taste very good then.”
I just about lost it. God bless fast food culture!

Oh How She has Grown

2008-10-20T11:26:00.001-07:00

Rylee leaving the hospital Sunday, August 3:

Rylee after church on Sunday, October 19 - 11 weeks later:

Zachary's Office

2008-10-15T19:48:00.000-07:00

When we drive down the Dallas North Tollway, Zachary consistently points at the Dillard’s at the Shops of Willow Bend mall and says “That’s my office!” or “That’s my work!” He also calls the Cinemark Theater a castle but that is for another time.
Today, Zachary and I (Chad) were near Willow Bend and had some spare time, so I drove over to Dillard’s.
WE got out, and Z matter-of-factly states, “we’re at my office, Daddy!”
Unlike our usual shopping trips, I let Zachary lead the way to wander around the store. He had full reign to look at whatever he wanted. The only section I did steer him away was from the bridal registry area. Hollilop sticky hands, an urge to grab, and crystal just don’t mix.
We walk into the housewares section. Z was so excited that the Christmas displays were out (it’s mid-October). We proceed to walk through all the kitchen items, with Z claiming all of his ‘new special things’. The sales clerk, amused at all this (and totally bored with stocking), asked to be Zachary’s secretary.
He proceeded through the furniture. I got to sit at Zachary’s desk and on his ‘new special couch’. We saw his ‘new special chair’, his ‘new special table’, his ‘new special closet’
We had to ride the Al-e-gaaa-ter (escalator) up, and then look through the purses for mommy (editor’s note: don't get any ideas...).
Z took off for the mall entry, and we wound up at the main court. We had to ride the glass El-a-gaaa-ter (elevator) and look at the machine below.
Then- Zachary spotted the food court. ‘That’s where I eat lunch!” We toured around looking at every vendor. After pizza and Japanese didn’t thrill him, I spotted Bluebell. I said, ”That one has ice cream.” Without hesitation, Z ran up to the counter and ordered, “I want a scoop of chocolate ice cream pleeeeze.” He’s three. Geez.

(EATING ICE CREAM AT HIS "OFFICE")
After ice cream, we wandered through a couple of stores (sorry FootAction and Hot Topic) and made our way back to Dillard’s. Z picked out a gray on gray shirt for me (little scary how well he knows me [at 3]!)
As we were leaving Dillard’s, I asked, “Did you like your work?”
Zachary responded, “That’s not my work, that’s my office. THAT (Saks Fifth Avenue across the lot) is my work.” I guess we never caught the subtlety. If only he got the employee discounts…