Doctor Who?

It's wrong maybe, but I don't like the old Doctor Who, and I'm losing interest since Rose left. 

I'd never really watched it until recently so maybe better things are yet to come.  Maybe the next Doctor is even more amazing or something.  I didn't even like Rose when I first started watching the re-boot, which I do actually enjoy.  Billie Piper made that roll amazing, because I think the writing of the first season wasn't all that great.  I never really missed the first or ninth Doctor, however you choose to view that, but still, Rose made it all work even with crappy writing. 

Martha isn't so bad, and really, I'm not that far into the season where she starts, but I'm kind of "meh" about her.  She was right though, she's the rebound girl, and nothing she does to 'be with' the Doctor will change my loyalties to Rose.  It's all very strange considering I thought Rose was crass and stupid to begin with and then I cried when she was no longer in the same dimension.  Is that supposed to be part of the appeal here?  We get attached to someone and then they leave and we get attached to someone completely new again and cry when the new person leaves? 

Should I even keep watching?  Someone tell me that it's worth while. 

Wasn't it just yesterday?

Dear Elyssa,

Today you're done with elementary school, and it doesn't feel like all that long ago, I was holding you for the first time. 






It doesn't feel that long ago that I was rocking you to sleep and couldn't even keep a weekend job because I was so in love with you I couldn't bear to be apart from you.

I remember teaching you to read, write, add and subtract, but what I wanted you to learn more than anything was to love yourself and to never be afraid to just BE yourself.  I never wanted you to care what other people thought of you, though you have and you probably will in the future, hopefully that phase will pass sooner than later. 

On your first day of pre-school, you were SO very excited.  I cried on the way home from dropping you off because I was so full of pride and anguish at the same time.  You walked right into that class room and never turned back.  You were so independent and I was so happy, yet sad, at the same time.

When you started Kindergarten, you were even more thrilled than when you started pre-school.  You thought it was the best thing that has EVER happened to you.  You were always so glad to go to school and so happy to be there.  I think you had honor roll every year of your elementary career.  Congratulations my love!

I want to give you the world and hide you away all at the same time.  You've wanted to be a professional Princess, Ballerina, Rock Star, and now lately, you want to be a Lawyer.  I'm not sure how those things go together, but I love that you have dreams.  I've always wanted to protect you, because you always seemed so fragile to me, on many levels.  You've always been so sweet and kind, and nothing like me, that I've worried that you'll be taken advantage of.

On the first day of school for Fifth grade you were sooooo excited about your outfit being all from one particular store that was popular amongst your friends.  By the weeks end, you had learned that it really didn't matter to wear those specific clothes, but you were thankful to get it out of your system and realize that the people who were your friends, didn't care at all what you wore. 






Your teacher told me this year during conferences, "Do not underestimate her ability, she's a little firecracker when she needs to be, she doesn't let people push her around, and she sometimes looks or acts like an easy mark but isn't". 

That was probably the proudest moment for me as the parent of a wonderful little girl with all of these fears inside of me; the fear that you would not be able to handle the bullies and assholes in life. 

Apparently, you are doing just fine, and staying true to yourself in the process and I couldn't be more proud to be your mother.

My life... according to Concrete Blonde

I was browsing through some questionable meme material to 'repost' or use here for my own entertainment but found nothing that really peaked my interest.  So, I'm recycling this from the bookface because I can:

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions. Pass it on to others, including me. You can't use the band I used unless you are totally lame and can't come up with another band. No fair repeating song titles. Repost as "my life according to (band name)"

Pick your Artist:
Concrete Blonde

Are you a male or female:
Woman to Woman

Describe yourself:
I Don't Need a Hero

How do you feel:
Dance Along the Edge

Describe where you currently live:
Your Haunted Head

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Walking in London

Your favorite form of transportation:
Run, Run, Run

Your best friend is:
True to This

You and your best friends are:
My Tornado at Rest

What's the weather like:
Cold Part of Town

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Darkening of the Light

Your last relationship:
When I Was A Fool

Your fear:
It's Only Money

Thought for the Day:
It'll Chew You Up and Spit You Out

How I would like to die:
Bloodletting

My soul's present condition:
Beware of Darkness

My motto:
Because I Can

These are the days of our lives.. or unlives depending..

Yes, I've been watching that damn epic teenangster Vampire Diaries drivel and it has me ensnared in its tentacles of drama.  I guess it shouldn't be shocking that I suddenly have a bit of a break out on my face, so I also get to 'look' like I'm a dorky teenager, except for those pesky wrinkles and age spots.

Growing up in southern California has its perks.  Mostly it's all about the weather.  There is also a plethora of things to do that are very specific to the area and the beach is always 20 minutes away.  The biggest drawback I can think of is that I was raised around people who cared entirely too much about how they looked.  This was something I have carried with me my whole life.  This vanity, my best and worst friend ever.  This constant worry about my nose, it's too big, oh and I'm fat, and I have ugly knees.

People seriously are saturated with having to worry and fix or attempt to fix all of their flaws.  This has helped form who I am, and as sad as that is, I can't seem to let it go.  I don't much care about what others particularly think of me, but I have standards and 'expectations' of myself to a degree.  I expect to age, sure, but I don't want to.

Do I want to live forever like the vampires?  No.  I don't want to live forever.  Those poor people in Mystic Falls have some serious problems because they will live forever or whatever.  I want to age.  I just don't want to LOOK like I'm aging.  I can't have it both ways.  Hell, vampires aren't real, so I can only have it one way.

Tomorrow I'm going to the dermatologist, we'll talk about my age spots and wrinkles and maybe remove some pesky moles.  Like the ones that could be cancerous or whatever.  If I'm honest, I'd say how very much I wish I could have my breasts lifted, my nose fixed, and a face lift.  The sad part is that I've 'planned' on needing these alterations from the time I was about 13.

Vanity.  Best, worst, and ever present constant friend...  I realize it's silly and shallow.  I get it.  Really, it's part of who I am, just not the best part of who I am.

UPDATE: Got the spot removed.  So for posterity, no makeup, bulbous nose and all, here is why people should always wear sunscreen - so that they don't need spots burned off of their faces.

Back on the wagon Day 1

My two year old doesn't care that I've got big plans today to be productive and motivated to start losing weight.  I got a shake for breakfast and currently I am stuck watching Oso, wondering if he really needs to sit right on top of me.  Twice I've removed him and he attached himself to my leg.  It's going to be one of those days.

My new proposed plan is going to have to include a needy toddler.  That doesn't mean my meal plan will suffer, however, my ideas about exercise will have to be changed.  I also woke up congested.

While it feels like a conspiracy, I actually think this is par for the course when I try to stay on the wagon of better health.

Speaking of ego..

Driven by a desire to know about my kids health from a DNA perspective, I had everyone in my house, and even some outside of my house, spit in a tube and sent it off to 23andme.com.  All of the results are in, and some of it kind of sucks, but most of it is just fine.

The problem is I'm sitting here picking apart random things about their DNA that may not make sense to me.  My two year old looks a lot more like me than my ten year old, and apparently, just IS a lot more like me than his sister.  While his 'IQ' DNA looks about right, or on par with what his sister got and his older brother (but not in the same IQ category), he also got some not so great things from my DNA, that I wish would die in a fire and never surface ever.

So it's also kind of like the blame game.  My two year old is more prone to high blood pressure, so the first thing I do is blame his dad, because that matches what his dads DNA says too; and so on.. and so on etc.

It's not like I imagined I had some sort of control about what genes my kids got, but the ones I biologically contributed to, are beautiful and smart just as the one I did not biologically contribute to is beautiful and smart.  It's weird though that I want to blame myself, or my husband, for things that I did not want passed onto my kids.

It is all rather subjective actually, when I think about these percentages, and what do they really mean?  Chances for having this one disease, is 1.24x more than the average person.. honestly, that's not really all that much now is it?  Even though they may not have genes for cancer, if they smoke, they're probably going to get lung cancer etc.  So why take this on?  Oh, well didn't I tell you?  I'm totally supposed to be controlling this shit and why the fuck did I NOT make sure certain things were sorted out in the gene pool!?  (roll film of self berating miserable gnashing of teeth etc)

Ah, ego, you're such a bitch.

Out spot out!

Three. 

THREE FUCKING SPOTS.

On. My. Face.

What the fuck is happening to me?  I know this is limited reading for people who even know about this blog, but holy fucking shit... my vanity is taking a huge hit this week. 

I had one new spot, and I thought, it's pinkish, new, but maybe just dry skin or something.  What do I know, I'm not a dermatologist, so I make shit up that either makes me feel better or more paranoid depending on the day. 

This morning I woke up with two NEW spots right next to the now older spot. 

I seriously wanted to cry.  Instead I called a dermatologist.  Wish me luck, but either way, those spots will have to go.  I have freckles a plenty, I don't need MORE discoloration and uneven issues with my skin.. ugh!

All of those stupid years thinking I could ever accomplish a tan.. how stupid could I be.

I will conquer the spots. 

Great Expectations

When I was little, I had decided, that I was either going to die young and have a fabulous funeral where everyone would be wearing a glorious pre-planned color scheme, or, that I was going to be rich and have people to do the things that I didn't want to do. 

So, I'm not dead, and I'm not rich, but am I happy?  With age has come a new standard of expectations.  The problem is that said expectation is a sure way to set myself up for a let down when something doesn't measure up.  This is a generic problem and applies to just about any number of things in my life or even myself.  I've tried lowering my expectations etc.  Really though, lowering them just makes me bitter and think "well what the fuck is the point then!?". 

The problem is the expectation itself. 

I still don't have an answer, for how to live, without some sort of expectation.  I expect a certain kind of behavior from my children, spouse, family and close friends that I know well enough to predict.  When one of these categories is thrown off because someone is acting out of character, it means that, to me, an expectation hasn't been lived up to.  I do this to myself as well.  My weight gain, especially since having Mason, isn't something I really even want to face, but I've let myself down and I'm trying to figure out why I'm surprised about it. 

Obviously I had higher hopes and expectations of myself?  It could also be that I know I am more capable than I am currently allowing myself to be.  So is it that I don't need to change, but rather just let myself be more true to myself?  That's my current answer, I'm still hiding somewhere and wallowing inside about something and the only reason I have to be disappointed in myself, is simply that it's not who I really am.

Well, I've actually said I'm going to do it..

I'm deleting pictures from facebook, almost as I type this, going back and forth because obviously my ADD isn't managed correctly and focus is a million miles away.

Do I even want to keep my blog here?  I've tried moving away from blogger before, but it never worked, and mostly because I couldn't commit.  So I'll try this again, and see if it works, and maybe, just maybe I'll get more crap done because I won't be checking facebook every three minutes on my phone.  Ugh.

PS - Fixing the decor..

Spring/Summer fever

The kids are completely ready for the summer and vacation. I really don't know that I'm ready for them to be on vacation!

Even Mr.T was trying to squirm his way out of taking classes this summer!

All the while, I've gotten my ass in gear, and tried to get things (things being myself) in better working order. Coincidence? Maybe.

OH and I discovered Bean Brownies!!!

Sounds disgusting, but I promise you, they're not bad at all! Add some peanut butter chips and they will rock!

One can of black beans
One brownie mix

Rinse the black beans thoroughly.
Put them back into the rinsed can, then add water till the can is full (with the beans inside)
Puree beans
Stir into brownie mix
Add the extra 1/4 a cup of water (most mixes I've found it's been 1/4 a cup)
Blend
Pour mix into pam sprayed brownie pan
Time per usual directions

You're basically replacing the eggs and oil, and adding fiber and protein!!! They taste like brownies, they smell like brownies, they ARE brownies, but only 2-3 weight watchers points each!

What sort of Mother am I?!?!

Today, I picked up my daughter from school, as usual. I asked the same questions.

"What did you eat for lunch today?"

"Uhm, chicken nuggets!"

"Where they good?"

"Oh yeah!"

"How was your day?"

"It was good, we had another SCA meeting today, and voted on prizes."

Pause

"What kind of meeting did you have today!?" - confused

"Uhm an SCA meeting." - like duh, didn't you hear me?

"So does your whole class get to go to these meetings?" - me thinking maybe they rotate the kids in and out for the experience etc.

"Uhm, no, just Dhruvil and I go, and guess what's the best! We voted for a week of no homework for the winner! Wouldn't that be so great!?"

"Yeah... " - stunned - "So uh, how long have you been having these meetings?"

"I dunno, like from the beginning or something." - obviously has no idea

So there you have it folks. Proof that I'm obviously not paying enough attention! Here I thought we were so close... I mean she tells me when she forgot to stop biting her fingernails, and that one time when she picked her nose in class...


So... don't let the picture fool you!

EDIT: My dear friend Reagan has pointed out, ever so eloquently, that this is all Mr.T's fault. Saying "It's the Karlan in her. Wouldn't he be on some committee at work and then tell you later only b/c y'all ran into someone on the same committee and that person mentioned it?"

Happy St. Patricks Day!

Green everything!

Salad - of course

Green Pork chops mmmmmm


And you can't forget the green jello!!!



All green except that Elyssa wouldn't take off the orange sweatshirt to show her green shirt with a cute fairy on it and Isis refused to be dyed and hid in a box in the pantry...

It's all a matter of perspective..

Totally worth the watch.

Dance like no one is watching..

Recently, I have started taking belly dancing classes and while I'd love to say I can already do this:



It's not quite there.

Who knew that separating the upper and lower parts of your body would be fun and great exercise? Well, apparently, Shakria knew.

I'm really enjoying it and having more fun than I thought I would. The hard part is practicing, because without a teacher there, you could just be thrusting your hips all crazy and willy nilly. So I have to practice in front of the bathroom mirror, just to watch my posture, and make sure I'm not sticking my butt out. You wouldn't believe how easy it is to think you need to arch your back. When you're first starting out though, there is no arching, and barely any knee bending (which is awesome for me!)

Even though sometimes when she dances, she looks a little like she's trying to be a zombie, or something, I still say she's hot.

It's definitely in the shoulders.



Very interpretive actually.

*pause* to reflect on the put upon...

Here he is, so put upon and jaded, you expect him to have written volumes of bad poetry and have an intense collection of whiny emo music. It's finally that phase... God help me it's barely even begun.


This pause is brought to you by the frustration of being a Mom to the likes of a pre-teen.

Hormones, I realize, play a big part in why my son is acting like he has lost his brain and replaced it with mush. This seemingly normal phase of growing and maturing, this developmental period that assuredly affects all of us, somehow doesn't resonate with my brain when I'm talking to my kid sometimes.

You must realize there is no point in trying to have a conversation with a twelve year old (when you have opposing views), who really, should move out before he gets old and forgets that he knows everything.

So, we're talking, about his grades, one of which was pretty much failing, the rest were A's, (he has since brought it up to at least a B), and he starts to say "I don't try in school because I don't have to, and why should I have to if it's easy?" So, of course, this riles me up enough to have a conversation with him, about his future, ethics, character etc. Then he says something, and I'm just like... huh... then I realized, he doesn't know what he just said, he must not have heard himself. He said 'I have to try in Spectrum because it challenges me and makes me think, not that I have to try, because it doesn't challenge me really though.' So, he's just contradicted himself, and I repeat his words back, and ask 'wait did you just say this, and follow it up with this', and he flips out and decides I'm mean, and then starts to cry. Seriously.

There was no yelling. I was baffled really. So I really just repeated his words to him, asking if he meant to say what he said, and that's when he went all 'pre-teen' on me. We all know, that I'm evil of course, and like a total bitch, and completely unfair... but I can handle that. Tears though?

In the end, it doesn't matter who is right or wrong, and I guess I just need to get over myself. He's going through this, and I can't stop it, and I can't fix it, and I just have to be there when/if he makes it out on the other side of things alive and maybe singed, but mostly, hopefully, unscathed. I can only hope for the best, and apologize for the ego in him that I fed, and do the best that I can to be here for him.

Really though, he's totally emo and actually proud of it in a weird way, so I guess I should go buy the eyeliner and black nail polish now and get a head start on things. It might be nice to get my old Smiths CDs out and really show him how to do it right - oh wait, can't do that - because then I'll be doing it all wrong!!! Especially since he just got his very first pink polo shirt, and LOVES it, and wears it proudly with his skull watch, black jeans and studded belt.

He doesn't look so emo here.. but there is the pink shirt. He was actually very pleased.

Oh joy.

If my life was simple...

...I'd be so relaxed and happy too.

Isis really likes the new red couch.

Her Garden..

Very lovingly these pieces were cut from her first year outfits, dresses, rompers etc, and put into a pattern. Also worked into the pattern, are fabrics from my great Grandmother's collection, my Grandmother's, my Mothers and my own. It's still a work in progress, but it's almost done, and I hope one day she loves it as much as I do.


upclose detail

Hair... the musical and the real thing. HHNT!

So, I bought the musical Hair, and I don't know if it's just that I forgot about a lot of scenes, but I thought the rating at PG or whatever meant the kids could see it. It was turned off relatively quickly.

The same thing happened with sixteen candles. The rating system has completely changed. PG13 isn't what it used to be, because PG actually meant 'parental guidance' - not 'hey it may as well be a cartoon'.

Needless to say, only my oldest can see those 80's movies. I mean 'Hair', is not the Kentucky Fried Movie or anything - which we also own, but it's still worse than I remembered and my daughter is still a still too young for that.

Also, I've been lazy about switching out the picture. So I just opted to post the new hair pic. What you can't see is that in the back on the opposite side of my part, is the other red chunk of magenta streak.


This is the cheesy, 'see this is my hair' smile'. HHNT!

Old age and streaking

Usually two things that shouldn't go together are 'old age and streaking', if you're a pervert and think that I meant something about dirty old people running around nekkid!

I turned the big THREE ZERO last week. I'll have to change my profile over there now, to an actual thirty instead of an 'almost' thirty. I did not do much to celebrate in the way of a party or doing anything in particular. The important part here is that I got cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory and that I got some really awesome gifts.

I had wanted, very much, to do something amazing for my year thirty. I may still try and do something this year - ideas are welcome (cheap ones :P )

Now, on to the streaking!!! My stylist streaks my hair, with two very specific chunks of highlight one in the front on the right and one in the back towards the left (right and left are of my natural part). I also got an asymmetrical bob to go with it.

I'll be changing my profile picture soon to exhibit my new hair.

Whispers in the Wind...

Beth invited me to join her in a friendly writing competition that she frequently participates in.

Jason Evans, of The Clarity of Night, I think, takes these pictures and based on this picture we write. The objective is short fiction, 250 words max and due by next Wednesday. My entry is #18 called Life. Feel free to tell me what you think.

I am not, as a general rule, a writer. That is to say, I get too caught up in details, and start focusing desperately on the stop sign instead of what is going on in the car. Normally, I really enjoy writing dreary emo poetry, or did in the past. I was very macabre - except, only really when I was writing my pathetic prose.

Bah, here I am describing something that has nothing to do with anything I was actually trying to say - a clear indicator no? It was fun and no pressure at all. I am vastly entertained by some of the other writers. I'm definitely not up to par, but I liked my story well enough, and I hope they (or you) do too.