holy baloney more than a month...

I have been a lousy blogger of late, I apologize to anyone who cared (all three of you?). I found Facebook, at first when the kids were pestering me to get a facebook I said, 'nah, that's weird for a mom' then I started hearing of these other moms who have them -- so I relented. On Facebook, I have been able to be in touch with many of my friends from overseas -- so that is most exciting and wonderful, as I am a lousy correspondent with regular mail - add that to the list of things I don't do as well as I would like. Also, I have a new boss, I'm sure I mentioned that before -- and well honestly, she's requiring a much longer period of adjustment than I had expected (damn expectations, they are never based in reality) -- and that is taking up a lot of my time. Also, she works in the office damn near every day, which cuts into my usual - 'hey I think I'll take a break and go blog' time.

So my world is a new and confusing place in which I am trying to maintain a little normalcy -- which is pretty much just amounting to an occasional beer or manhattan in the evening and still watching my secret soap opera on Monday's while I work from home.

Be assured I am also still continuously amused with myself, more frequently than might be considered fully healthy, and yet no one has had me committed to a facility yet.

Today's amusement:

a little late...

I've been tagged by Baseballmom for a new meme...answer the following questions using the first letter of your name-try to use a different answer if the person before you has the same initial. It's harder than it looks!
What's your first name? Amy
A four letter word- ass (assbag, asshole, asswipe, ass-for-brains, etc) – I realize that ass only has three letters, and the rest have more than four – so if you were looking for literally a four lettered word – well then ‘amen’
Boy name? Ass
Your occupation? Accounting
A color? Ass? – that’s probably not a color, um auburn
Something you wear? Ascot
A place? Albuquerque
Something found in a bathroom? Ass (duh)
A reason for being late? Ass (getting some)
Something you shout? Assbag!
A food? Almonds

I'm tagging moosema, neveradullmoment, and anyone else that is looking for a post.

Yes I am that kind of helicopter mom...

I know I say plenty of derogatory things about helicopter parents... and, having worked with them as volunteer and in the classroom and as another parent, basically -- they need to let loose a little. However, and maybe I am just being too hard on myself and this isn't helicoptering -- if any of you watched Desperate Housewives (spoiler ahead) this week, you saw Lynette starting an account on a social networking site to get her son to talk to her. She was deceptive about it, and that is never a good idea. I am also a snoop, and I also have a social networking site account - for the mere purpose of snooping on my kids -- here is the difference, they know it's me. They know they a. have to provide me with their passwords to myspace, facebook, email, whatever I ask and b. they had better approve me as friend so that I can see what they are posting. I have asked more than once that one of them change something because I don't think it is appropriate to everyone who might be viewing their profile. Yesterday in fact, I went into my son's facebook and changed his "status" myself because I was unhappy that he had used an expletive in it. As you all know, I am potty mouth number one, and I don't really care if my kids use expletives, depending on venue, audience, and circumstance. The thing is, you cannot always control venue, audience and circumstance of the viewers of your facebook. (Along with that, I pay for their cell phones so they know that they have to hand them over randomly and on demand for me to peruse their text messages... could they just delete anything that comes in that I would find objectionable, you bet... I'm banking that if I am random and unpredictable enough they will be too comfortable and I will find that rare item...) even more, I'm banking that they know I may look, so they will watch what they are presenting to the world, which is in fact the goal. None of us parents can sit back and say we never thought things like so and so is a f-ing bitch, or fuck the team that I don't root for, or damn that was fun doing that really outrageous rude thing last night, we just didn't publish it. My mom always said "if you don't want it on the cover of the Rocky Mountain News, don't write it down!" -- I think that advice applies well to texts and IMs and social NW sites. I also think that you don't have to deceive your kids to engage them in conversation and responsible action. So I helicopter -- but I kind of swoop in and helicopter and then swoop out again.

So after having changed my son's status from "F the other team" to "in trouble with his mom" yesterday -- I was curious this morning, as to what he might have done with it last night. He put up some other insult to the other team again, this time in much more appropriate language and I left it... but what I found out was... he is friends with a girl who my daughters know outside of school, sports, etc. A girl he has maybe met and doesn't remember, and has no reason that I can think of for being friends. She is graduated from high school, though she attended the same school as his girlfriend, and she is not involved with his work or any of his activities. On Facebook, you can click on someone and see "friends in common" -- so I fully expected to see his sister or his girlfriend, because there is no other reason for him to know this girl exists -- she is not friends with either of them. I have a mystery to inquire about today, and I can't wait.

you ever open your big fat ass mouth and...

(I will get back to the family saga... I just really needed a break before the next one)

... state that you are going to "post that on my blog"

GEEK SCHOOL

That one reader out there that knows where my kids attend school will probably confirm that it is in fact a geek school... for the rest of you, I could completely make shit up to convince you... but I don't have to!

The school won a math award, a rather prestigious math award... and so... the school motto for games and stuff is "Mean and Green" -- well since 'mean' is also a math term... and can be communicated in writing (as a formula) and green can be communicated in writing as a gamma wave... they have t-shirts that say in math/science speak "Mean and Green" -- tell me that's not geeky!! (ps - I own and wear mine proudly)

also... they were featured on a South Park, okay featured is an exaggeration, but they were on SP -- the SP kids came to Denver to play basketball against our school and the kids from our school were on the court with their TI-87(or whatever designation) calculators calculating their shots, lol. I actually haven't seen the episode, only heard about it -- I have tried looking for it and cannot find it, if anyone knows which episode I would love to know at least what season it was.

Many of the students also post this on their myspace... (it changes some each year, and I am not posting the complete list)

You know you go to (Insert name of Geek School here)

Your definition of having a social life is hanging out with your friends to have a study group

You don't have a social life in the summer either

You regularly stay up till 2 or 3 in the morning and then get up at 5:30 and call it a good night's sleep

If you have a B average you are in the lower quarter of your class and consider yourself to be the stupidest person alive

The "bad kids" are the ones who ditch activity period a couple times

The coolest kids have straight A's and are in mathletes

If you're not at least one year ahead in math you are a loser

The senior pranks always suck because the administration has no sense of humor

You drink 2 or 3 coffees a day and finish it off with a red bull

If the teacher doesn't teach you anything you actually get angry and demand to be transferred to a different teacher...and of course no one listens to you

Every single person in the school has either a TI-83 or a TI-84 calculator (well duh! there all in algebra by at least 8th grade, and then you're on the stupider end)

If you get a C you start to worry that the only college that will accept you is community college... and even then it's a stretch

The senior privilege that you look forward to the most is being able to cut in the lunch line (o baby! I've been waiting for that since I was a sevie!)

You're a slave to P-E-A.

You know just how many problems are on a problem set sheet.

You dreaded going to the library because of the half hour lecture explaining
How to use Gale and EBSCO. Every. Damn. Time.

The cast of the musical included several football players.

You won any sort of sportsmanship award.

You know what goes in and what goes out... (Say it!)...WATER WATER!!!!

You took Photo just to be able to screw around.

You know exactly why fysics is phun.

Any of your teachers joked about sending you across the street for
Detention.

You're certain your ACT scores will be the best in the state. Again.

Another semester means your term paper is 500 words longer.

You've rebelled by getting something from the vending machine between the
hours of 7:30 am and 2:30 pm.

You learned someone else's student ID to see their grades.

You sing along to twinkle, twinkle little star, voltage equals I times R.

You loathe any form of standardized testing.

You actually went to after prom.

You had to get your planner signed to go to the freaking bathroom.

You ever came straight from football practice to marching band practice.

Instead of taking all art classes your senior year like "normal high school students" you continue to take every AP class possible, and throw in some classes given by UCD just to be sure you have plenty of college credit, before you actually go to college.

The only reason you dressed up for pirate day was so you could wear a bandana and ripped clothing.

I love geek school -- my daughter who is now in College took what I thought was going to be a brutal schedule for a freshman, she is bored to tears, is always done with exams and homework way before her friends, and has too much time on her hands... I'm proposing she double her credit hours next semester, save me some money on something by finishing early!

a quick meme...

to break up the family saga

TYPE ONLY 1 WORD. IT’S HARDER THAN YOU THINK!!!
1. Where is your cell phone? desk
2. Your significant other? R
3. Your hair? cut
4. Your mother? amazing
5. Your father? amazing
6. Your favorite thing? peace
7. Your dream last night? weird
8. Your favorite drink? bourbon
9. Your dream/goal? happiness
10. The room you’re in? living
11. Your fear? heartache
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? here
13. Where were you last night? here
14. What you’re not? diplomatic
15. Muffins? lemom
16. One of your wish list items? tickets
17. Where you grew up? colorado
18. The last thing you did? puzzle
19. What are you wearing? pajamas
20. Your TV? big
21. Your pet? skinny
22. Your computer? old
23. Your life? pleasant
24. Your mood? mellow
25. Missing someone? yes
26. Your car? lincoln
27.) Something your not wearing: shoes
28. Favorite Store? Kohl’s
29. Your summer? short
30. Your favorite color? pink
31. When is the last time you laughed? today
32. Last time you cried? saturday
33. Who will/would re-post this? moosema
34. Four places I go over and over? Work, home, store, temple
35. Four of my favorite foods? Eggs, lasagne, roast, gravy
36. Four places I would rather be right now? Lodge, europe, alaska, moutains


amazing how many of my actual answers are more than one word

L

L –

This one is going to be harder. I know that my sisters are both going to be harder to write about. There is a fondness for your brothers that you can never feel for your sisters, at least for us three girls. I know they feel it too, it’s just different, some sort of ‘they-could-blow-up-puppies’ and it would somehow be forgiveable, but with your sisters there is a bond that comes from sharing the deepest secrets, your innermost fears and anticipations, your embarrassments, you can brag about your accomplishments – big and small – no humility or dignity required at all. Sisters could probably blow up puppies too – but the difference would be that you would have known before they did it that they were contemplating it, and why – and for some unG-dly reason, you would have found a way to support that (or you would be the one person on the Earth who could convince them to do something different). My oldest sister is eleven years older than I am. That’s a lot when you are young, she was feeling teen angst while I was still peeing the bed – the bed we shared. Our great grand-father lived with us when I was a baby/toddler – he died when I was three. He had the master bedroom, my parents had another bedroom, then we girls had a room and the boys had a room. After he died, my parents moved into the master bedroom and we girls split the two upstairs rooms and the boys continued on with the one room downstairs. Anyhow, we shared a room for a few years, and she was a tween (not a term in the sixties) and I was tiny baby. She adored me – or so she reminds me, more frequently than I think is necessary. I had a heart on the end of my nose and she loves to tell me about it. She was a regular wanna be flower child, she loved all the hippy stuff, but she also loved good hygiene – my mom says she was the cleanest hippy on the hill. She has a magical way of attracting all of the most unique people, all of her friends for her entire life have been the most interesting people in the room. She is the most generous soul you could ever hope to meet. For her gift giving is an art, and it feeds her soul. She is not complete when she is unable to select what she feels (and is almost always right) is the perfect gift. She is also hands down the most loyal person in the family. I think I’ve made it clear that we are all very loyal to each other and would support anything – but she is more loyal than that somehow. I can’t put into words her loyalty, but you dare not utter a syllable that could even be interpreted as against one of us – she will exact a vengeance, and she will make it clear to all who are witness that you do not mess with her family. She is also the most vengeful – I don’t remember her being as vengeful when we were kids, but she spent 17 years in Boston, and she picked up some character traits there that are as ingrained in her as anything she learned at home. She too, like Markie, loves completely and utterly and with a deeper passion than many people ever know – but rarely, very rarely. She has had two true loves in her life – she married neither. She never had children, but she has always made it very clear that it is her goal to be favorite auntie – and she has spent many hours finding just the right way to express her special love and loyalty for her many nieces and nephews. She is very careful what she lets people see of her inner self, very guarded. I would say that only one person outside of family really knows her at all – and it’s not the man she did marry. She did love her husband, and they had a good life for awhile, but he had addiction problems (he was recovered when they met and married, but eventually replaced drugs with gambling and eating) and that can tear a marriage apart. It doesn’t help that she also has a drinking problem – she wasn’t what I would call an alcoholic then, though she probably is now. She has always suffered from Alcohol Induced Psychosis however. I don’t want to give a long description of this – just to say my grandmother and my sister both have it – and it’s so unfair that my mother has had to suffer through the behaviour again and again all of her life. Drunks are ugly, but they eventually pass out or something. Psychotic drunks are far uglier, and they never pass out – they can go and go for days and days like some sort of demented energizer bunny. I don’t want to focus on that though, but I want to give a complete picture – so there it is, one of the ugly skeletons in the family closet. My sister is so much more than her drinking. She is one of the most beautiful women you could ever meet – she turns heads from nine to ninety. At one time, while she was living on the East coast, she was doing makeup for a Marilyn Monroe review and she looked so much more like Marilyn than the stars it was uncanny. She did herself all up in her Marilyn look and flew home. My dad said that walking through the airport men were actually stumbling and falling as she walked by. Mom always says that yes, she’s as beautiful as Marilyn when she does Marilyn, but she’s so much more beautiful than Marilyn when she doesn’t do Marilyn. She’s not just physically beautiful though, her soul is tremendous. Generous, loving, loyal – she exudes an excitement for happy things that catches anyone and everyone in it’s wake – you can’t help but get excited too – it can be Mom’s cooking, decorating the house for a holiday, a kids kindergarten recital, a rose blooming in the garden, a vacation, a baby, any happy occasion and she will involve and excite all who come near. She always wants to make everything bigger and better – if the neighbors had a piñata – she will have two piñatas and they will be stuffed with better bigger candy. If the last wedding had a well known band, she will have a better known band, and they will play all night. She’s also the queen of getting what she wants – it doesn’t matter how absurd it seems, she will find someone who can get it for her – but, it’s usually not for her, it’s usually for her to give as a gift to someone she loves. Oh and artistic, she is amazing – hair, makeup, decorating, clothing, ideas – always new and eccentric and people just ooh and ah. She also has an uncanny knack for impressions – she does so many so well – we laugh and laugh. I have so many funny stories, I can’t seem to choose one to share. So her artistic side, and her ‘hey-I’m-so-excited-side’ took over on a fishing trip one time. She packed a “fishing outfit”. It won’t sound quite so strange in 2008 as it did in 1985ish – keep in mind… she has always been ahead of her time. It was part glamour, part hippy – like pretty much everything she wears – it was like a collage of blue cotton rags, all hanging here and there on this shirt and Capri pants – she really looked like shredded blue burlap from a distance – and a turban of the same material…so this turban had shreds of fabric hanging here and there too. Her makeup was flawless – her hair just jutting out of this turban thing here and there, and she headed for the dock to drop a line in the water. She was clearly out to entertain my mother’s friends – as she had been bloody-worm-gut-your-own-fish fishing many times when we were growing up – but it had been awhile since she had fished. She headed down to the dock with her Boston accent and said to my mother – or perhaps no one in particular – “I’m here to fish darling, how do you like my outfit?” – my mother laughed at her and said, all those rags will come in handy for wiping up worm guts. She proceeded to cast her line out into the water, catch a fish right off and as she was reeling it in to the dock another of the seasoned fisher-women on the dock (also a very glamorous woman actually, but could dress down and be her raised in South Dakota regular gal when in the right company and venue) said to give it a tug to set the hook – so my sister yanks her rod and reel hard and the fish flies outta the water up over her head across the roof of the boathouse and down the otherside where I am sitting quietly fishing and reading a book – amidst quite a cacophony of squeals and drama from my excited sister – “I caught one, I caught one, I just put my line in and I caught one” – laughing and squealing. We never heard the end of the “lucky fishing outfit”.

Bart

Markie –

My brothers and sisters brought home lots of strays over the years – hell so did mom and dad for that matter – mostly dogs, occasionally we would sneak in a cat or snake for a day or two – dad is allergic to cats and deathly afraid of snakes – we had a monkey, goats, rabbits, gerbils, turtles, birds, lizards, frogs, salamanders, crabs, hamsters, fish, dogs and cats – my sister brought a dog home one time and she thought the dog was so beautiful that the only name that would fit would be her own – so she named the dog after herself! She also brought home Mark. She was 14, he was 14 – just a few months difference in their ages. Mark had been going to Jr. High with her, and he was cute and fun and everyone loved hanging out with him – besides he was the new kid in school and that offered all sorts of possibilities since his parents didn’t know who was who or what was what. It was 1969 – summer of love and all that. Mark had recently moved in with an uncle in a foster care situation – his single mom of 5 boys and 1 girl – all hellions couldn’t handle the older three boys anymore and shipped them all out to foster care. Mark and his twin brothers – Uncle was not the best foster parent on the planet – well in fact, he really wasn’t equipped to have any kids around – some people have to learn in baby steps and having a few teenagers plunked on your doorstep isn’t much of a baby step. Mark’s first twin (btw, they are the least connected twins I have ever been around, it’s impossible for people to believe they are twins) was last out of uncle’s house, but ended up with some great foster parents that kept him for the rest of his growing up years. The other brother bounced from here to there and eventually just ended up on his own, which he always did very well anyhow. He had been born overseas, in Germany, a military brat. I don’t really know the story on his biological father, they lived with their mom and grandmother – the grandmother was quite the hard ass – the boys rebelled big time – and it being the late sixties, there were plenty of creative opportunities for rebellion. Mark came to us – it didn’t take my parents long at all to decide that they could do a lot more good for this boy than the uncle was doing. Mark had already been in quite a bit of trouble with the law and had a few habits that continued getting him into trouble – and it was 1969 – a lot of kids were getting into trouble. Eventually Mark ran away (I think it was more “running to” for those kids in those days – at least the ones in my family, cousins, inlaws, sister, brothers – they were always running to some cool event that they weren’t going to be allowed to attend – maybe even a long-term, open-ended return on a sneaking out – they weren’t running away from anything, they were running toward an opportunity to be a sixties kid) one too many times for the foster care people to put him back in our house – they sent him to a boy’s home – but he never lost touch or quit participating in the family. He eventually fell in love with a great girl and had two beautiful babies with her. My first niece and nephew – both parents themselves now. The relationship didn’t last – Mark drinks too much and the passion fell away from their young love and they parted ways – but Mark never lost touch with his kids, and neither did we – we saw them all of the time, at times they spent huge chunks of their summers or other vacations with us. Mark shared so much of his life with us, it was like a puzzle piece we didn’t know we were missing until he filled the spot. Mark eventually married again and had another daughter – she lives with her mom in another state – that marriage ended also. Mark loves very passionately, he falls very hard for the women he falls for, and then he usually gets his heart broken very deeply. It’s been hard to watch him fall and hurt and heal over and over, but it has never dampened his spirit – he continues to love passionately, all of his family, to share anything he has with anyone he loves, to be there to help or support regardless of what you’ve done or how inconvenient it is for him to get there for you. I know that any of my brothers or sisters would do ANYTHING for me – you know “help me bury the body” type of help – but Mark would be there first, and he would stay to the end making sure I was okay – even if it meant missing work or traveling a long distance – it’s just part of his passionate way for things. And he is always up for some sort of party – he loves people, women, talking, drinking, dancing, music – he may not always be the first to arrive at the party, but he is generally the last to leave. I have so many fond memories of hanging out on the beach at the lake, drinking beers and listening to George Thurogood – going to the racetrack to watch he and my other brother, or just to watch the races even if they weren’t driving and then drinking in the pits till the early morning, always laughing, always singing. His children hold a very special place in my heart, watching them grow, seeing them become beautiful wonderful passionate people like their parents, and watching them grow more beautiful children with that same amazing passion for life and love.