Goals for 2012

Oh wow…  New Year’s eve already.  Let’s see, what were my goals last year again?

·        Lose some weight.  Donovan says he’s happy no matter what size I am (suuuuuuuuure) but I need to lose some because it’s making my constant pain worse.

·        Move to a better/cheaper place.  I HATE this apartment.  I’ve already got something in mind, but I need the taxes to be deposited before I can make an offer.

·        Get all the little kids (2 and 4 footed) house broken.  I think this one’s self explanatory.

·        Find a dependable babysitter.  I’ve been back in Vegas almost 6 years now, and have yet to find a sitter that is available when I need them.

·        Take a ceramics class.  But to do that I need a sitter.

·        Re-start my clothing and gift company.  I had to close it down because no one was buying.  This time I need a stock built up, and some really great pictures, along with an amazing web-site. 

Annnnnnnnnnnd…  big surprise, the only one that really happened was losing some weight right before the insanity of the fat season, whoops, I mean holiday season.

Last year was a bitch.  Yep, I said it.  I got put on meds, fought with D, and I’m still struggling to get the little kids potty trained.  M decided to become a nudist.  Boychik has regressed and complains of headaches.  D’s getting out of the military, but we’re worrying about how the family will get by until he’s in school…

The laundry monster is slowly being conquered, pictures are getting back on the wall, sewing stuff is getting organized, but it all seems just so, idk, insignificant in the grand scheme of things?

ANYWAY.  On to the list of goals that I’m most likely not going to meet this year.

·  Get to a healthy weight by the time D gets home.  I got this amazing dress for 90% off at Kohl’s yesterday and I WILL fit into it.

·  Start couponing the right way.  Right now I don’t because a) I’ve got no clue, and b) most of the coupons that I find are for stuff we’ll never use or the generics are cheaper.

·  Move out of Nevada.  For good.  The summers are horrible, the housing is badly made, and the teachers are convinced that if a kid misses school a parent needs to be threatened with CPS.

·  Complete the potty training for the little kids.  The dog can wait.

·  Build HodgePodge’s web site. And actually post it to a hosting site.

·  Start writing again and actually submit it to my peers.  Yup, I’m saying it right here.  I want to write again.

·  Take some extra classes so that I can graduate sooner.  Hopefully I will be able to get a job.

·  Get D re-acclimated to the family and vice-versa.  That should be FUN.

So, another list of goals to put away and not look at till next year.  This should be a truly interesting year.  See you on the flip side, dear readers.

No dogs or... III

No, instead of banning kids, there’s gotta be a better solution.  Banning babies from first class flights?  Really?  If mom and dad can afford first class, how can we, AS A PROUD CAPITALISTIC SOCIETY take that privilege away from them?  If it were me, I’d be talking to a lawyer or the ACLU about discrimination.  Movies and theaters?  Okay, I get that choice.  When I interned with a theater in college, there were plaques on the wall in the lobby stating that no one under the age of seven was permitted entry.  Some of the live performances weren’t something I would take a kid to, though.  They did have kid days, though.

Movie theaters are a tricky thing…  Boychik has NEVER been to a movie.  It’s too loud for him, too dark, too many people.  There are “autism friendly showings” once a month, but only one theater has them.  Miss Scarlett’s never been, either, but she’s only three.

The only restaurants I’ve been to since D went back to the military with just me and the kenders has been fast-food.  My MIL and her husband take us to a buffet when they visit, and the kids do pretty well – Miss Scarlett waited till we were packing up to spill her milk on the floor.

Renn events are hard.  If I don’t have a helper, I don’t go anymore.  Especially since I get “those” looks, and the childless few think that telling me how to “fix” Boychik is not only welcome but necessary.  But it’s all good.  D will be home soon, and I’ll have the other half of my parenting team.

Ah, introspection, so interesting on a chilly morning.  Next blog is my yearly goals.  That should be a laugh and a half.

No dogs or ... II

Are these same “No kids allowed” folks realizing that they aren’t hurting the kids, they are hurting parents?

Yup.  As a semi-single mom, if Miss Scarlett isn’t welcome and it’s before Bex is out of school, I’m not going.  So they will lose business.  Besides losing business, what about these poor new moms that really don’t have a way out of the house?  Becoming a mom is a traumatic thing.  No really.  As a mom, I’ve been trapped in my house, with the only people that I see regularly thinking my name is “Mommy, hey, mom”.  I get poked with a bony little finger when I don’t respond fast enough.  There are days that the only thing that saves my sanity is school all day for them and Bex coming home so that I can sneak out to the store or leave to tutor.  When I think about these moms that are trapped, or can’t leave without a litter of kids, I actually feel bad for them.

And besides all of that, where are these kids going to learn how to behave in public if they are banned from taking their place in public?  Yeah, no one thinks about that.  School?  No.  Not unless you want some kid that’s only able to interact with those his own age.  Church?  Okay, valid location, but what about those that don’t go to church?  What about those churches that separate the genders and ages?  And those that don’t “do” church are automatically left out.

This benefits ONE part of society.  One.  Its taking rights and privileges from another sub-culture.  When rules like this go into effect, we aren’t equal anymore.  Isn’t equality one of the defining parts of our constitution?  Then why are we still discrimination against people? 

So now the list of those that are having their rights taken or never acknowledged in the first place looks like it’s going to be welcoming parents, too.  Sigh.  I am tired, readers.  I am tired of situations and rules being bent or changed to benefit the few.

No dogs or ... I

When did dogs become more welcome in public than children?  Yeah, I’m serious.  At one time it was normal to see “No dogs, [insert specific religion], or [specific nationality].  Now children aren’t welcome.  And with that, their parents, too.  Yup, discrimination is rearing its ugly head once more in our own beloved country, only instead of discriminating against the elderly, its discrimination toward those who choose to have children.

Yes.  I said that.  Unlike other “choices”, there are plenty of ways to insure that you don’t become a parent.  Many people make use of them.  The young, intelligent, ambitious people that are sometimes referred to as DINKs (double income no kids) like their lifestyle. 

I will admit that the DINK lifestyle seems glamorous while I sit in clothing of a size that disgusts me and I yell at a child for the third time to take off his wet clothing because he smells like a toilet.  The thought of being able to leave the house without tears and cries of “Mommy, you CAN’T go to work!” while a pre-teen rolls her eyes is attractive.  Not having to ask the people that will be travelling with me to put on their shoes and stop picking their nose would be a wonderful thing.  So are the dreams of the ability to have an emergency bank account or a vacation without having to know if there’s a mini-fridge for C’s necessary chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.

BUT.  Yes, huge but; these people are truly missing out.  They’ve been exposed to children suffering from bad parenting choices that they are biased, so much so that they yearn for child-free areas.  I’ve been the target of the whole “oh, you need to do this” by the childless.  Now, if you’ve been reading, you know that I’ve got three kids.  Two are autistic; one’s what is referred to as neuro-typical.  But she’s three.  I’ve had the boy have a complete meltdown in the checkout line because of too many people, exhaustion, and the checker not giving him HIS bag quickly.  He actually threw himself on the floor, wailing.  But this was over a year ago, and the performance has not been repeated.

While I TRULY understand the hatred of screaming brats, as a mom, I know the causes.  Usually I smile, look at my own quiet children that are, most of the time, angels in public, and say “Uh oh, someone’s done shopping, guys” as the screaming child approaches us, passes, and goes away.

Change is awesome... But coins are better.

Oh I LOVE changes.  They’re so exciting and fun!  And if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge to sell you in New Mexico… 

So, Yule is upon us.  Nothing says Yule like a naked toddler on a footstool rearranging the tree and playing with the volume control on the surround sound.  My meds are making me feel kind of off.  Maybe because I’m decreasing them as an experiment?  I’d rather have the lower dose, really. 

And speaking of experiments, I really would love to try something that is so anti-kosher it will get me threats from those I know that are Jewish…  Boneless pork chops stuffed with some sort of shellfish concoction, breaded in matzoh and covered in a soft mild cheese or drizzled with a cream based sauce.  So not kosher, but the thought of it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.  Where the fat clusters and increases.

Today I was literally swarmed by every living thing in my house under the age of six.  That includes the dog when she left the blanket cave she made on my bed.  Uncle Squish came over and took B to a movie and left me alone with the little ones.  After the movie, Squish even helped her wrap her present for me, and the little kids’ gift, too, cause I’ll be thrice-damned if I’m going to pay for AND wrap my own stinking gift.  I watched my mom do that too many times and she always seemed bitter and annoyed about it.

C’s been yelling for days “I wanna wanna watch Kung Fu Panda on DVD!!!!!!”  Okay, fine, I give in today.  We get half way through, and not only has he left and gone off to watch SpongeBob in the other room, M has joined him.  So I ended up on the couch, watching the first Kung Fu Panda on DVD while crocheting.  I posted on another forum “Is it wine time yet?  ‘Cause it’s been whine time around here all freaking day.”  Too bad the only alcohol in the house is some Godiva liqueur that’s older than M.  C heard me telling Squish that if I didn’t get a break, I was going to go to jail.  His reaction?  “Mommy, I wanna go to jail WIF you, Mommy!!!”  Yes, two “Mommy”s in one sentence, cause that’s how he rolls.

We did prayers and candles for Hanukkah; first night’s good, no missing candles, no “I blow out the candles, Mommy?” followed immediately by slobber ridden blowing, no melting of the blinds or singeing of curtains.  Just have to make it a few more days.

With the time off from classes, I should really purge the computer and backups, maybe fix the margins on the blog entries, seriously think about a goal list for the New Year… 

Screw it, I’m crocheting place mats.

Stressed? No, my head always feels like this...

So, we’re that much closer to the big Winter holidays.  And the main things on my mind?  Keeping the little guys out of the tree, the dog in the house, and how to get D’s care package to him on time.  And cookies.  Can’t forget to make sugar cookies.  Or just pick up some of the dough in a tube and make the cookies that way, ha ha.

The only kid that still has to do shopping is Beckie.  Uncle Squishy is going to help out this that, I think.  One of the purely suckish things about being the only parent and main driver for the kids right now is that I always know what’s going to be under the tree or inside the wrapping paper.  I miss good surprises.  I’ve had my fill of yucky ones…

Positive point for me today, besides 2 weeks off from class?  All the utilities got paid.  Yup.  Everything’s had money thrown at it, including the car payment.  Thanks to the charity of others, my kids have stuff to go under the tree and we’ll have a family to eat with on Christmas.

My meds are all screwy, but I feel better than I have (except for sleeping too much once I do fall asleep) in a long time.  I see the doc later this month, so maybe a lower dose?  After the beginning of the year, it’s back to the gym.  Honest.  I’ve got a whole list of goals for the New Year…  Hopefully I will meet more of them than I did last year.

Come to find out, not only did D not have the money to come home, he was too slow in trying to get leave.  So it’s another Yule without him.  At least it’s the last one without him for a while.  Yeah, I’m missing him.  Can’t find the camera, but there’s one on my phone…  And M still thinks that she’s a nudist.

Oh?  You didn’t know?  Yeah; my three year old is convinced that clothing is only for outside the house.  Once we get home, the most she’ll leave on is a shirt, and that’s only if we’re all very lucky.  I’m not too freaked out about it, cause it makes it easier for her to make it to her potty, but it’s kinda weird having a nude toddler roaming the house in the middle of winter.

And the biggest change facing us once D’s home?  We’re moving.  Yup.  Getting out of the pit that is Southern Nevada, going to literal greener pastures.  D’s gonna go to school, I’m getting a job (I hope, please, Please, PLEASE, Whoever is listening, let me get a job…) and we’re FINALLY leaving the desert.  

blog blog bloggity blog I

Oh my my my, it’s been FOREVER since I blogged.  Bad KenderMomma, no biscuit.  Or cookie.  And forget about those peanut m&m’s you like to eat.  Frozen.  In bed.  While telling the littlest furry kender “no, you cannot have these, they will make you sick, yes they will.”

So…  Lots has happened.  The littlest bipedal kender-beastie is NEARLY house-broken.  Now if she would just stay in bed.  My meds are working off and on, so, cool – some days I’m efficient Momma, other days its “Momma’s gone CRAZY.”  Turkey day was good.  We went to a friend’s house, cause the thought of making a turkey for 4 people, two of which are more interested in seeing if the food will stick to the table, windows, wall, or match their underwear was just too depressing for me.

Oh let’s see…  What else?  Oh yeah.  I got downgraded to a “historical consultant” at the nonprofit play that I WAS with.  The gist of it? 

“You’re not Christiian, so you need to GTFO.”

“Um, okay, that’s fine.”

“Oh, but can we still use your skills?  And because no one knows the inventory and checkout systems YOU created that have saved us money in lost costumes, can you TRAIN someone?”

“Sure?”

“And by the way, you’re going to Hell.”

I swear by all that’s good, sweet and holy, I’m too nice.  Really.  But when D gets home from the wilds of Europe this coming year, and we leave freaking Cat Box Nevada, no more pro-bono shit.  Ever.  Never ever.  I don’t care if they’re blind orphans with scurvy and missing fingers.

I got to watch the shit storm of Regretsy versus PayPal.  That was AWESOME.  I was all set to close my PayPal account;  WTF pending transaction?  Oh.  Riiiiiiight.  Donation to the drive that PayPal’s trying to steal.  Fine.  Now that I’m lucid and have had a little more sleep, I realize that closing my PayPal would be CRIMINALLY STUPID; once I start selling costumes and clothing on eBay, Etsy, or my own site, how will people PAY ME???  Hello, nearly shot myself in the foot with that decision.  With a freaking filthy, rusty, barbed harpoon.  DAMMIT.

So PayPal is not “last resort, carrier pigeons won’t carry my check or money order, I’ve gotta have this now, Now, NOW.”  Which would be a very odd thing, cause I do custom work – I don’t carry stock, I DON’T HAVE THE SPACE.

Happy place, happy place, D has promised a house with speace for a workroom that I don’t have to share with the kids or animals.  Sigh.  OKAY.

School is good.  I’m starting in on my eith , ayth, EIGHTH (I’m in college and can’t spell eighth without some thought and spell check, how the f*uck does that work?!)  When I saw that it was an ethics class, I screamed.  And it wasn’t the fan-girl scream of joy that I do at the poor unfortunate designers or authors that actually talk to me.  Then the littlest kender looked at me and said “hee hee hee, Mommy, you sooooo funny.”  Great, toddlers get my sense of humor.  Awesome.

But some Yule gifts have been bought on Amaaon, the Science Fiction Book Club, or at actual real time retailers.  I KNOW.  I’ll have to get my huge butt outta bed, brush my hair, scrape the green fuzz off my teeth and put on a bra.  And then try and convince the three year old that yes, it’s 50 degrees outside, she will be wearing pants.  But not underwear, because 75% of the time, she’ll pee in them to spite me.  How do I know that it’s spite?  Um, hello, she’s THREE?

And speaking of three, she’s still up and it’s after 11 pm.  Thank you albuterol, you’ve made my toddler into an insomniac.  Wheeeeeeeeeeeee.  On that note, I should probably find my own bed under the unfolded clothes, littlest pet shop figures, and dog hair.  Stay warm, and a Welcome Yule to my sister and brother pagans, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Joyous Kwanzaa, and Festivus to the rest of us…