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30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 5

Day 5: 5 things that irritate you about the same sex/opposite sex

There are so many directions in which I could take this prompt. And the direction in which I choose to take it: 5 things that women do that irritate me. Prepare for some bitchiness.

1. Calling kids “littles” and “bigs”

This drives me nuts. It’s something I was first introduced to reading mommy blogs. And I hate it. Kids are kids. Calling them “littles” and “bigs” bugs the crap out of me. If you need to distinguish, call them “little kids” or “big kids.” Like the rest of the world does. Besides, these are the Littles:

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Image found via Google search, which led me to a blog post at OfftheMike.com.

 

2. Calling every single woman who is a mother a “(fill-in-the-blank) mama”

This is another thing that I first noticed on mommy blogs and which has, to my dismay, spread everywhere. I was fine with Coraline calling me “Mama.” And I’m OK with my friends who refer to themselves as a mama. But it bugs the ever-loving shit out of me when women refer to any woman who is a mother as a warrior mama, tiger mama, fierce mama, scary mama, proud mama, whatever mama. I can’t even tell you exactly why I hate this, but I do. Hate. It.

3. Never leaving work at work

When I used to grab a workday lunch with a group of women, it would almost inevitably devolve into nonstop bitching about work. I have of course done that myself here and there, but some women would do it every single time. It got real old real fast. Now most of my workday lunches are spent by myself with a book or with male friends. Who do not bitch nonstop about work. We instead talk about family, politics, movies, TV, travel — you know, life outside of work.

4. Trashing other women for work, parenting, and life decisions in general

I honestly don’t know why we women do this. Men aren’t trash-talking other men for going back to work after the birth of a child and putting that kid in day care. They’re not criticizing or bullying other men because their wives breastfeed or bottle-feed. They’re not laying guilt trips on each other over work travel. And yet we women do all of that and more. Which I really don’t understand. That’s great if you didn’t have to go back to work after giving birth. Some of us didn’t have that option. It’s not anyone other than the mom and the kid’s business what they’re being fed. As long as the kid is healthy, who cares? If a woman travels for work, she’s a bad mother who ditched her kids. When a man travels for work, it’s expected and he’s a good father for providing for his family. We women need to stop tearing each other down and support each other instead, and mind our own children instead of offering unsolicited opinions on how others’ children are being raised.

5. Making bitchy lists like the one I just made

See: all of the above.

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30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 4

Day 4: What you wear to bed

So far with this challenge, I’m missing the quality of the last challenge’s questions. Maybe these will get more interesting the more days pass. Who knows.

Anyhoo, with regard to today’s super-exciting question, I usually wear mismatched things to bed. Old, ratty Old Navy long-sleeve shirts paired with comfy pajama pants in the fall and winter, old, ratty T-shirts and boxer shorts in the spring and summer.

I do still have my faithful old black sweatshirt. You know, the one we bought in 1987 when we first moved to Tennessee. You could say it’s seen better days.

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I’ll throw this away when Rich concedes and tosses his 25+-year-old pillow, which means never. I’ll be buried in this beautiful bastard.

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I gave up sewing the cuffs back on every winter. The tattered cuffs have sentimental value, though, since my late cat Yum Yum used to suckle on them while flexing his paws on my side. Weird, I know, but it was his bedtime ritual for several years.

I do still dig the sweatshirt out every winter, though. Even though it’s literally threadbare and has huge tears in it — it’s not exactly meant to provide warmth at this point.

Now that I’m a bona-fide grownup, I’ve become more interested in actual pajama sets. So this winter I’ve been living it up in a pair of Star Wars pajamas, complete with long-sleeve top and warm, fuzzy pants. That’s about as fancy as my sleepwear gets.

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30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 3

Day 3: What kind of person attracts you?

This could be a loaded question for this old married lady. Obviously, the answer is someone like my husband: handsome, funny, smart, clever, handy, a good provider, and a great dad. Now, if I were single …

Back in the day when I had those crushes on celebrities that every teenage girl gets, I had a type: dark hair and dark eyes. Think 21 Jump Street-era Johnny Depp. I also like men on the bulkier side versus thin. And tall. A man’s gotta be TALL (Johnny was a very pretty exception since he’s not that tall and he’s never been bulked up). I think as a general rule, I still find tall men with dark hair and dark eyes more attractive than fairer men with light/blonde hair. I told Rich he broke the mold since he makes Casper the Friendly Ghost look tan by comparison, with his pale complexion, lightish brown hair and blue eyes. He’s my very own special snowflake. Also, he helped me make one seriously awesome kid.

thumb_IMG_0480_1024As I’ve gotten older, though, looks have become less important. Not that I’m looking or in the market, but I now find intelligence and responsibility more attractive than a pretty face. Priorities change as you get older. And while I find plenty of men attractive (I’m married with decent eyesight, not dead), I don’t find myself attracted to them. Although I do still appreciate a tall, well-built man with a pretty face.

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30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 2

Day 2: How have you changed in the past two years?

This is kind of a general question, isn’t it? I guess the way I’ve changed the most over the past two years is that I’ve given up trying to please other people. I’ve started taking a daily dose of Fuckitall (OTC. And imaginary).

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Instead of worrying about what other people think about me, I’ve instead turned my energies to doing what is best for myself and my family. In doing that, I’ve become more patient. Well, specifically more patient with Coraline. She’s a great kid, but sometimes when she is going off the rails about whatever, I have to work hard to not lose my shit with her. I work hard to remind myself that she is a kid, I’m the adult in control, and occasionally she is going to lose control precisely because she is a kid.

I wish I had other great insights into how I’ve changed in the last couple of years, that I’ve become a more Zen person, become enlightened, discovered the secret to total happiness, yada yada yada, but I haven’t. I have, however, learned to be OK with that.

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30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 1

I started 2016 with good intentions, including journaling every day. Then tendonitis hit and, boy, did it hit hard. Any form of writing fell by the wayside since I couldn’t even hold a pen or pencil, and typing was pretty much out of the question (I became a hunt-and-peck typist at work). I won’t get into how the voice assist function on my iPad was essentially a traitorous whore, twisting whatever I said into ever more ridiculous words. I did a 31 day blog challenge back in 2012 and figure the first day of a new month is as good a time as any to start another challenge.

I found this list via a Google search, which led me to Pinterest user Madison Clayton‘s page:

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Let’s start, shall we?

Day 1: Weird things you do when you’re alone

It’s not particularly weird, but when Rich and Coraline are both out, the thing I do to take advantage of being alone is listening to music and singing. Out loud. Really loud. I sing LOUDLY without fear of being laughed at, told I “don’t have a singing voice” (Coraline is mean about my singing), or making a dog howl (Mommy misses you, Caleb). Boring and not so weird, I know, but it’s my biggest solo-time indulgence. I may not be able to sing well, but damn if I don’t know the words to countless songs. At least I’ve got that going for me.

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Caleb

Our beloved brindle pit, Caleb, died suddenly and unexpectedly Friday night. I was already in bed asleep when Rich burst into our bedroom and said, “I think Caleb may have just died.” By the time we both ran downstairs to the den it was clear Caleb was already gone.

I don’t know where to start. Like I said, it was sudden. And unexpected. He behaved normally all Friday, eating, drinking, playing, napping as usual. Rich said that after I went to bed that night Caleb came to get petted and kissed, then went back to playing with Troubadour. They laid down to sleep and just like that Caleb slipped away. It’s some comfort that he went so quickly and without suffering. But what I find more comforting is knowing that he died after doing his favorite thing in the whole world: playing with Troubadour. While Caleb loved his big sister Snoops with all his heart, his relationship with Troubadour was on a whole other level. They literally became inseparable, with Caleb starving himself then quitting drinking water when they were apart for a few days a few years back. We took them for vet checkups on the same day because they couldn’t stand being home alone without each other. When Troubadour got a time-out in his crate, Caleb would kiss you and give you the eyes to get him released. They slept on the same bed together. They drank in tandem. They often peed in tandem. They didn’t even like going out in the backyard without each other. Which is why it’s now so hard to watch Troubadour processing what happened. He spent all Saturday obsessively checking the backyard to see if he’d somehow missed Caleb, even though he’d seen Rich carry Caleb’s body out the door that morning for that final visit to the vet. It was the only time in his life that he’s ever remained completely silent when his brother went out the front door without him.

I can’t express how much we are all going to miss Caleb. How much we already do. How hard it was telling Coraline and hearing her little heart break when she started crying and saying his name over and over. He was loved by everyone in our family and so many of our friends. Throughout his life he changed a lot of people’s minds about pit bulls, showing them what good dogs they inherently are. He loved peanut butter-filled Kongs. He loved chewing/eating/destroying tree branches. He loved kissing our hands and faces. He loved playing with Frisbees, ropes, and Boobah dolls. He loved wrestling with Troubadour, preferably in front of an audience. He loved everyone in our family. He loved our friends. He loved his little brother and his cat, Buster. He loved me. He loved Coraline. But most of all he loved Rich, his favorite person, the one who picked him out of all those puppies all those years ago.

Caleb smiled, but he’d only do it on command for Coraline. I already miss that goofy smile so much. I could write so much more about what I’ll miss about him, but it could easily turn into an endless post. I’ve cried so much since his passing it’s hard to believe I haven’t dehydrated by now.

We are now a family with one dog and one cat. And it’s for Caleb that we’ll take extra-special care of that one dog, the one who was crying tonight as if in physical pain because he can’t find his big brother.

Caleb would have turned 13 years old tomorrow. We are so honored and proud to have been his family since bringing him home as that tiny 13-pound 13-week-old rescue. You were a good boy, Caleb. Such a good boy.

Baby Caleb

I always thought of this as Caleb’s official baby portrait.

New Puppy

Getting comfy in his new daddy’s lap.

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Caleb was one hell of a patient big brother.

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Sleeping brothers

Caleb frisbee

This is maybe my favorite photo of Caleb. His personality really shines through here.

 

 

 

 

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New Zealand Day 2 Recap

*I let a massive photo gallery upload to Flickr overnight only to wake up and discover that Flickr failed me. I will embed the photo gallery later on, but in the meantime you can see most of the photos in my Flickr photostream. Keep in mind that Flickr also has them out of order.

We got up nice and early on Monday, our second day in New Zealand, to grab breakfast before heading out for our first adventure: Skyline. The weather was rainy and miserable, but being that we are in New Zealand, we didn’t let that put a damper on our day. We rode a gondola car up to Skyline and enjoyed the soggy views we got from that perspective. In the midst of a downpour, I talked Nan and our new friend, Rori (who is from Barbados) into going on the Skyswing. Once we were strapped in and the cable began pulling us up, up, up, and dear lord, UP for our ascent, I asked Nan and Rori how the hell they let me talk them into this. That ascent is probably the most frightened I’ve ever been on any thrill ride in my entire life because you end up basically vertical with only a harness holding you in, no floor on which to brace your feet. Factor in how high up we were — not just on the ride, but over Rotorua in general — and it’s a miracle I didn’t pass out. Nan was smart and sat in the middle so she could at least brace her feet on the two poles extending from the bottom of the swing to the top. I braced my right foot on the pole nearest me and started trembling so badly that in the rain my foot kept slipping off. Rori and I voted before we got on that Nan would be the one who, when given the signal from the ground by the ride operator, would pull the cord that would release the swing. It took Nan a couple of tries to pull the cord, and then we swung out over Rotorua from the top of a cliff. I’m not gonna lie here — I’m pretty sure my eyes were closed for some of it. They were definitely closed for most of the ascent. So it’s a good thing I managed to hold on to my point-and-shoot and record the whole swing. But once that swing cut loose … it was indescribably fun and so freeing to be flying through the air like that. By the time it was slowing down, we couldn’t stop laughing. The ride operator stops the swing by using a large hook to brace you and reel you in, and we’d seen other people flip upside down when he hooked them. No sooner had we been hooked than Rori said, “At least we didn’t go upside down!” when — you guessed it — we flipped upside down. Nan suspects the operator got such a kick out of us screaming and laughing when we flipped that he flipped us again. If you watch the video of our ride and it looks like my feet are against the sky, now you know why.

When I got off the ride, I told some of the film crew that they should try it if they had time; they’ve been filming everything we’ve been doing on this trip. EVERYTHING. They asked me if I’d like to talk about day 2 of this trip, I said yes despite what the rain and the Skyswing’s G-force had done to my hair, and you can see some of what I said in the #RealMiddle Earth Diary 2 on New Zealand 100% Pure’s Facebook page.

After that it was time for the huge buffet lunch awaiting us in the restaurant downstairs. Someone might have had two plates plus a dessert, but it’s OK because I walked it off after. The rain finally eased up so Nan and I made our way to the Luge, which was also a blast. I only wish I’d worn gloves for my ride because the handlebar grips started to hurt after a while. We then headed back to the main building to hit the winery, Volcanic Hills, for a wine tasting. By this point, though, it was 10 minutes from the time we had to leave, so it was a very speedy wine tasting. I tried five wines in those precious minutes, which had our host calling me the pacesetter for the group. It was basically wine, cracker, water, repeat for me. The wines were all delicious, and I finally found a red wine I love. I only had to come all the way to New Zealand to find it.

Nan and I then hopped a gondola car back down to the bus with another new friend, Kris, who hails from Austin, and we made our way to the bus for our next stop: Hobbiton. The drive took about an hour and by the time we reached Matamata, the rain had stopped and the skies were clearing. We were let loose in the gift shop first, where most of us (cough) went crazy deciding what to get, what not to get, and either way ended up spending too much money. I asked the store employees about certain items to make sure they were exclusive only to the store/New Zealand to help with my buying decisions.

Broke (I know I was) but excited, we all then got back on our buses and drove over to Hobbiton. When we first got to the grounds, we spotted sheep everywhere. Then three horse-riding warriors flanked our bus, shouting battle cries as we got closer to Hobbiton proper. Once we got off our buses and started walking into Hobbiton, it was just so surreal to finally be there and see everything for ourselves. I can’t describe how amazing it is, and I don’t think my photos can do it justice. It really is such a magical, spectacular movie set. Some of our Fan Fellowship people started crying when they were interviewed during the champagne meet-and-greet we got, they were so overcome. I’m a fan, but they are fans. Fans like Nan is a fan. My group, the hobbits, were led by a guide named Sam. And yes, a lot of us started calling him Samwise. Mostly because he told us to. We heard all about how the Alexander family, who owns the farm on which Hobbiton is located, insisted the set be made permanent and left there forever for fans to visit. We heard all about forced perspective; how Martin Freeman sat right there on that bench in front of us; how a scene that started on a given spot ended in a location 40KM away; how we were standing on the very spot where Gandalf promised fireworks; how the tree on top of Bilbo’s house was restructured to look 60 years younger and is made of foam and cost about $750K. I was given a silk leaf from that tree, which I will hide away from Coraline lest it become part of some of her artwork.

The tour through Hobbiton took two hours, at the end of which beers and hard cider awaited us at The Green Dragon. After a bit of drinking and socializing, we were led inside for our first surprise. No sooner had the curtains to the main room parted than people began screaming (myself included), because Jed Brophy, Stephen Hunter, Mark Hadlow, and John Callen were seated at the long dining room table waiting for us. You might know them better by their dwarf names: Nori, Bombur, Dori, and Oin. I got Nan in a photo with John right away, while I got hugs from and a photo with Mark. After a lot of excitement, we were ushered through and out The Green Dragon to wait for our other groups to join us. In short order we heard cries of surprise from the dwarves, elves, and wizards. Once all four groups were outside, we socialized and nibbled on the many foods being offered on trays. (This trip has kept us all very well-fed.) During this time Nan and I managed to get more photos with the other actors. All of them were very gracious and charismatic and funny: Mark Hadlow would yell, “Nori is a dick,” to get everyone riled up. Nori defenders would immediately pipe up and defend their beloved dwarf.

Nan and I and a bunch of our new friends eventually moved over to a picnic table near a large yellow tent (called a marquee here) to be ready to get in line for our next surprise. We were warned repeatedly that there was to be absolutely no filming or recording allowed and to put away our cameras before we were let in the tent. Once inside we made a run for it and managed to get second-row seats in the middle. Two blank screens were in front of us, and we all got a pretty strong feeling about what our next surprise might be, particularly after the no-cameras-allowed warning. Sure enough, one of the producers for The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies came out and confirmed that yes, we would be watching the brand-new trailer for the movie. Everyone went wild at the news and then quickly everyone started making shushing noises so we could watch it, including Mark Hadlow, who was sitting in the row in front of us and enjoying hamming up the “shhhh!” sounds he was making. Once we quieted down a DVD started playing with an introduction by Sir Peter Jackson. We are forbidden from giving details of what we saw in the trailer, but trust me when I say IT IS AWESOME. While watching it, people gasped, yelled, and cheered. When it ended, the roar was deafening. Some of us (including yours truly) started chanting, “One more time!” The producer teased us asking if we would like to watch it again, which was unsurprisingly met with loud cheering. During the second viewing, everyone was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. And when it ended, we again erupted with cheers. Did I mention that IT IS AWESOME? Because it is. We then got a third viewing because, well, you know why. Turns out the trailer was STILL AWESOME.

The actors then presented another surprise. They took center stage and let us know that three people among us had birthdays during this trip, called them up there by name, presented them with a gorgeous hobbit-inspired cake (like it’d be anything else), then led us in singing “Happy Birthday.” After much cheering (yes, again), Jed, Stephen, Mark, and John — I can call them by their first names now, you know — gave us all a heartfelt thank you, then serenaded us with “Song of the Misty Mountains.” (I uploaded video of that to my Instagram.) It became more of a sing-along when several of us joined in, including Nan. The actors bid us goodnight, then the Fellowship was led back out to start our nighttime tour through Hobbiton. As we waited in our assorted groups to start our tours, fireworks burst over the party field across the way. You know, the one with the Party Tree. People cheered and ran to the shore to watch. When the display ended, we set off to see what Hobbiton looked like in the dark. It was a whole different kind of magical feel than it had in the daytime. The hobbit houses were all lit up, the party lanterns in the party field (where some of us might have danced a little bit) were aglow, and everything was so beautiful. This is where I have to gripe that I should have brought my tripod with me. Most of us without tripods did not get good photos. Still, we were in Hobbiton.

Six hours after we arrived, it was finally time to go home. Which most of us didn’t want to. As you can imagine, we would all be quite happy living in Hobbiton.

And that, my friends, is what we did on day 2 of our New Zealand trip.

*You can see a lot of my photos here for now.

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31 Day Blog Prompt Challenge Day 26

Day 26: The best gift you’ve ever received.

I think it’s a tie between the necklace I got from my paternal grandparents and the last thing I got from my Abuela Tulita, my maternal grandmother, which was my Cabbage Patch Doll Fernanda Georgiana. See, my grandmother had a stroke on September 13 and went into a coma. My birthday is September 17. She died September 18. The next day I got the birthday card and check she’d put in the mail right before she had the stroke. I used that money to buy Fernanda, which is now one of Coraline’s favorite dolls. And that is why that bald baby doll is one of my favorite gifts I’ve ever received, even though I’m the one who picked it out after Abuela Tulita died. I know she’d love how much Coraline is enjoying the doll now.

Coraline Kissing Fernanda

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She’s Not Just a Member of the Hair Club for Babies …

Hair!

... she's also the president.

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The Strong Arms of the Ma

Song Lyric of the Day:

See the problem was I / Was fully consumed / With all of the petty things that I couldn’t do / All of the plastic products, shows and woes / I didn’t ever show, I let it go

Electric Guest / “This Head I Hold

It’s been a while since I posted with any regularity. What happened? First, my beloved cat, my sweetest cat, Belle, passed away. The next day my mom had carpal tunnel surgery on her hand. Two days after that, Rich had shoulder surgery, making him our home’s official one-armed man. And since he was obviously temporarily incapacitated, that meant I had to pick up a lot of slack around the house. Rich could no longer help with Coraline’s bedtime ritual and overnight wakeups, gather and haul the trash to the curb, wash dishes, buy the big honking bags of dog food we buy, or help with unloading anything heavy out of the car, leaving yours truly to pick up the slack. (I tried teaching Coraline to poop on command so I could exact my vengeance as soon as Rich was able to change her diapers again, to no avail.) Make no bones about it, though — while Rich is right-handed and the surgery was on his right shoulder, he still managed to be helpful around the house, albeit on a limited scale.

Then — you knew there was a “then,” didn’t you? — my mom had her right knee replaced. Since one sister works at a bank across town, the other sister lives out of state, and our dad works in Oak Ridge, that left me as the best option to take Mom to physical rehab twice a week (Dad takes her the third time, on Fridays). (Here’s where I once again thank God and my lucky stars I work for such a wonderful company and, more importantly, such a wonderful boss.) My work schedule now consists of me working from home on Mondays and Fridays, the days Mom normally watched Coraline, and me working in the office Tuesday through Thursday, the days Coraline is at day care. Tuesdays and Wednesdays I leave work at 10AM to pick up Mom for rehab and — thanks to the wonderful magic of free Wi-Fi — work on my laptop the full hour she’s put through her paces. Then I drop her off at home and head back to the office, which works out — thanks to that hour of work at the rehab center, I’m still only taking an hour lunch (give or take a few minutes) via travel time.

Coraline visiting with Abuela (4/20/12). Coraline was in her "operator" mode, ready to call it a night.

So that’s what’s been going on the last few weeks. I can no longer keep track of what day it is, most days I would happily nap under my desk George Costanza-style, every time I sit down to watch TV upstairs I’m reminded Belle is gone, and I’ve been eating badly, to say the least, since I’m now on the go a lot more than before (damn American fast food for being so convenient and so, so awful).  And yet I’m grateful: Mom is already moving/walking better than she was before the surgery, Rich is just about back to being a full-time husband/father/errand boy (love you, honey!), I’m healthy, Coraline’s healthy — you get the picture. Things could be worse. So even though I’m so stressed right now I could probably turn a lump of coal into a diamond, I’m doing my damnedest to look at the bright side.

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