Art, Facts and Chickens

Sara's mind is a wonderful, random and fascinating place. Sara is brilliant, perceptive and hilarious. I love watching her mind in action. This is just a small glimpse into her mind. Enjoy the ride. Wherever it takes you. These are some of the gems in her journal. Give me your money or else. When I am fifty, I will have been alive for awhile. I can't wait until I am nineteen and in college. My brain is filled with facts. Once I read a book filled with adjectives, nouns, pronouns, adverbs and other grammar. I like spinach but not for dessert. Mom told Christian to clean up but the crayons remained on the desk anyway. Speak and reason with them. Sara, I believe one day you will be the chief of the group. For a brief moment, the fairies imagined migrating with the beetles to an arid place. Sometime between now and when I die, I will go on a great adventure. Even as a grown man, Edward loved pillow fights. As a poet, I write many poems. I don't really remember what a strait is. I already know decimals. Everyone alive is breathing. I don't what the words "financial", "finality" or "annul" mean. Striped cheetahs don't exists, but wouldn't it be cool if they did? Fairies are definitely not make-believe. In a haunted house, there is a mad scientist's laboratory. A handkerchief is like a tissue. I cannot find a sentence for barnacle. We came back from our search with enormous piles of gold for everyone. Have you ever seen a scrawny kitten with an attitude? I will probably accomplish many things in my life. Always approach chickens calmly. Art, in my opinion, explains attitudes and ideas. Canadian, Chinese, Greek, Russian and nationality are a little hard to find sentences for. Lunar eclipses are very dangerous if you live near the sea. My dad marveled at how I tried and tried to startle him. I don't like to be trifled with. She decided to challenger herself this year. She wants to see how many vocabulary words she can use in one sentence. So far, her record is six. And the sentence made sense. At least, it did to Sara.

Three Little Words

I recently went on vacation with 2 friends from high school. We have been through it all together -first boyfriends, first breakups, college acceptances and rejections and all the associated drama, laughter and tears. They saw me through my mother's illness and death. We are all adults now with jobs, husbands, family and responsibilities. We were anxious to get away and have some laughs. We sat in the sun, caught up and reminisced. My friend posed an interesting question to us. Describe yourself in three words. I thought about it and came up with my three words. They came up with their 3 words. I was surprised to notice that my three words were negative. I focused on the things about myself that I didn't like - my weaknesses, faults and insecurities. They focused on their strengths. They focused on the parts of their lives that give them the most satisfaction. I always thought of myself as a happy person with a good life. And I do have a good life. I am surrounded by amazing friends and family. I have 2 healthy and wonderful kids. I have a husband I adore who loves and respects me. We are a team. We are blessed with what we have. We do not struggle to make ends meet. So, why did I immediately come up with 3 negative things? What does that say about me? I always thought I was the kind of person who looked on the bright side, saw the glass as half full, found the silver lining in everything. I try to find the good in everyone. I guess my point of view is a little darker when I am looking at myself. Life isn't black and white. People have strengths and weaknesses. We have good days and bad days. There are shades of grey in everyone's life. I just need to find the good in me a little more often. So, I came up with three new words for myself. The words themselves are not as important as what they say about me and how I think of myself.

I guess I am a work in progress. What are your three words?

The Christmas List

Everything and anything Christian sees nowadays goes on his list for Santa. I swear, if he ever sees an infomercial, he will be asking Santa for a George Foreman grill and a set of steak knives. Any store we go into, he begs and pleads to browse through the aisles, looking for inspiration. Luckily, he is 4 and pretty clueless most of the time. I take a picture with my phone and we move on. Sara, being 8 and pretty tech savvy with the memory of an elephant, is not so easily distracted. She is angling for larger, pricier items. She spends her free time browsing through catalogs and the Internet. Her wish list ranges from Wii and Nintendo DS games to books and American Girl accessories. Right now her list is up to three pages. Christian's list includes just about anything involving Legos that he will need an engineering degree to assemble and anything involving superheroes. In between adding items to his ever-growing list, he asks very pointed questions about Santa and his litmus test. How does Santa see everything? Do Santa and God talk to each other? What counts as naughty? If I am only a little naughty, do I still get presents? Does he take back presents if I am naughty after Christmas? Now the poor kid is really freaked out because he has God AND Santa keeping tabs on his antics. I'm liking having double reinforcements on my side.

Here's My Vote

I am so glad the elections are over. Am I the only one who was disgusted by the childish antics and postings? I'm not even talking about the political ads. I am talking about the ridiculous ranting and ravings on Facebook. I am not overly political. I follow current events. I read up on the issues and candidates then form my own opinion. I do not try to change the views of others. I am grateful to live in a country where I am entitled to my opinions, beliefs and vote. I am a reasonably intelligent adult who can choose my own candidates. I do not think others have the right to try to change my vote. You are entitled to the same respect. I will say that when I read people's curse-filled, vile, angry diatribes on Facebook about the evils of the different candidates, I wonder. Do they not realize how petty, immature and ridiculous they sound? You are not helping your cause. Nor are you convincing me to support your cause or candidate. You do not sound passionate. You do not sound informed. You sound like a 3 year throwing a temper tantrum. And, when your candidate wins, try to pretend to be a mature and responsible adult. Do not gloat and resort to name-calling. I have reads that "my" candidates are the the scum of the Earth and I am even lower for voting for them. I am paraphrasing because I won't use the language I've seen on Facebook. When I read the inflammatory posts, I am beyond glad that we are on opposite ends of the political spectrum. I support your right to your vote and your voice. But, for everyone's sake, put on your big boy/girl pants, buy a thesaurus, wash your mouth out with soap

and try to sound and act like a grown up.

Put A Sock In It

Seventeen minutes. That is how long Christian threw a fit this morning about his socks. I stayed calm for 16 of those minutes. Sara waited by the door with her coat, backpack and SHOES on for 10 of those minutes. I finally hauled his barefoot and stubborn self to the car so we could drive Sara to school. Then we headed back home so he could put the dreaded and offensive garments on so we could move on with our lives. This has been a continuing struggle in our lives. It doesn't matter what socks they are. He even flips out about his precious and beloved Spiderman socks. Twice a day, he has to put on socks to leave the house. Twice a day, I wait to see if he throws a hissy (and how long it it will last). I've praised him when he puts them on without fussing. I've congratulated him for being a big kid and getting dressed and ready all by himself. But, sometimes the little stinker just has to throw himself down and pitch the hissy fit of all hissy fits. I have news for you, little fella. You are NOT Cinderella. They are not glass socks that will fit like a glove. You now why? Because they are SOCKS! Put them on and move on with your life. I'm living a nightmare version of the Prince and the Pea. I'm counting down the days until spring is here and I can put the little fashion diva in sandals and skip the drama.

It's Not Me, It's You!!

Have you ever been dumped by a friend? Ever outgrown a friend? I think we can all say yes. I've been dumped. It hurts. It's hard when you realize that you no longer have anything in common or have drifted apart. I tend to hold on to my friends for a very long time. It's hard to get rid of me. I have friends I have known since I was 4 years old. Trust me, she has seen and heard it all. And still takes my calls. I was dumped by one of my best friends right after the birth of our son. I was devastated. To me, it was out of the blue. What had I done or said? I was never given the chance to talk it out. I received an email informing me that our friendship was over. Four years later and I realize that it was for the best. I realized that I never felt good enough around her. I never felt like I could just be me. I always felt judged. The comments and put-downs were subtle but they were frequent. My daughter, who was 4 at the time, even commented once that "your friend doesn't seem to like you very much, Mommy". What kind of example was I setting for my daughter? Friends are supposed to build you up, support you and be kind to you. I didn't want her thinking it is ok to be treated or treat anyone that way. I've learned (the hard way) that is ok for people to come in and out of your life. People change. Their situations change. Not everyone stays friends forever. I have friends from all walks of life - different backgrounds, lifestyles, etc. As I get older, I have learned that it isn't about where you come from or how much money you have. Some of my best friends are people I have nothing in common with on paper. Here is what I look for in a friend - kindness, patience and a hell of a good sense of humor. I can be as sarcastic as the next person. I can tease and be teased but I know where the line is. I don't have the time or energy to waste on people who call themselves a friend but put me down. I have had enough of people who brag, criticize, judge and complain. I've done the mompetition. I've hung around the friends who not only judge my parenting, but feel the need to parent my children in front of me. I know I am far from a perfect mom. Trust me, there are days that I am proud my kids are alive at the end of the day. But, I have no desire to parent anyone else's child. I am done with the "keeping up with the Jones's" friends. If you are picking your friends based on their 401k plans, you need to re-evaluate. I wonder about the people who brag about their fancy houses and vacations. Are they happy or are they hiding behind their status? Any, why does it seem, do they always brag in front of the people that they know are struggling to make ends meet? Are they clueless or just really insecure? If you come over to my house, you will be tripping over toys and shoes. There will be dishes in my sink. My kids will probably be fighting. Someone's house will always be bigger, fancier and cleaner. And I am perfectly ok with that. We are blessed with what we have. We are even more blessed with who we have in our lives. I am not a perfect friend. I will forget to call. I may forget to ask about your latest family drama. But, I will not judge. I will be there when you need me. I will listen and support you. I will laugh with you but not at you. I don't care about your credentials, education or finances. Rich bitches need not apply. Funny, smart, kind people, come on over to my messy house and have a few laughs.

Curse Your and Your Balloon Animals

I'm no Scrooge but words cannot adequately express my hatred of all things balloon related. It starts when the kids are babies and they are handed out at restaurants. You spend the whole meal hoping and praying the baby doesn't chomp on the balloon, pop it and choke to death on the rubber remnants. Or you spend the whole meal chasing the balloon as it floats around the restaurant. Then, the minute you leave the restaurant the kid immediately lets go of the rubber orb from hell, ensuring 10 minutes of tantrum as it floats up and away from their chubby little hands. As they get older, they discover the "art" of balloon animals. These are like crack to a child. Some oddly dressed man with really bad makeup will make whatever strange animal, vegetable or mineral my kids request. Usually my son asks for a sword, light saber, or dagger which he will then use to bash anyone and everyone who comes within a 5 mile radius of his weapon of mass destruction. And let's not forget the mental anguish inflicted on all of us when his weapon pops as we head home. So, I take the kids out to eat, then spend all night referring balloon weapons, and waiting for the damn things to pop. Then I get to deal with the drama of one kid's popped balloon and the other kid's delight in their intact trophy. I swear I am gonna knock the smile of that arrogant clown's face then choke him with his own balloons!