So are the days of my life

December 2009
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December 25th, 2009

Merry Jelly Belly Christmas

FOUR POUNDS!!

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December 25th, 2009

Happy Holidays

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December 23rd, 2009

A family’s Grief

I am a blogger.

I am a twitterer.

I am a mother.

I work outside the home.

I read books.

I talk on the phone.

I cook, clean and do laundry.

I write on occasion too.

My children are not always within my sight.

And I think those qualify me to have an opinion in the tragedy of Bryson Ross.

I didn’t know of Shellie or Bryson until this happened. It feels disrespectful to be using their first names when I never knew them. Yet, any other names would make this so less personal.

I don’t have specific time lines. I don’t have time stamps of tweets sent or phone calls made. In the end none of those would matter, because none of those would bring Bryson back. Bryson drowned in the family pool. What I know is this. They were outside (and by ‘they’ I mean Shellie, Bryson, and his older brother) (again, real names seem so familiar, a familiarity I don’t have. Yet anything else seems cold and formal) and Shellie asked her oldest son to take Bryson inside, she would follow. When she found her oldest inside without Bryson just a few minutes later, they went looking and found him at the bottom of the pool. CPR was administered. EMT’s were called. He was rushed to the hospital. He was pronounced some time later. In the midst of all of this, while she waited anxiously, alone except her son who I’m sure was consumed by guilt, in a waiting room while doctors, nurses, ER staff members worked to save her baby, she sent a tweet to Twitter.

Pray like you’ve never prayed before. My 2yo fell in the pool.

Those 12 words, 62 characters, well below the 140 Twitter limit, are the center of a nationwide controversy. Who knew?

Ok, let’s back up a step. Who among us have not entrusted our younger children to the care of their older siblings? It’s natural. ‘Take your brother and go inside’ has been uttered by mothers across the country across the ages. So there was nothing out of the ordinary for Shellie to ask that of her oldest son. At 2 years old, how many nights had Bryson walked past that very same pool and *not* fallen in? It happened. It was an accident. To say it was an unfortunate accident is really an understatement, but it was just that, an accident.

The EMTs are called and they begin to work on Bryson. Shellie’s husband is in the military and therefore unavailable. She was forced to face this tragedy alone. Falling apart, scared, worried, and yet holding it together, being brave for her oldest son, and clear headed enough to make all necessary decisions. They take him to the hospital, rush him off the ER and continue to try and revive him, leaving Shellie in the waiting room alone and scared. I dare any parent to stand in the face of all of that and worry how 12 words, 62 characters are going to change their life. That had to be the furthest from her mind when she sent that tweet to Twitter.

Now, I am just guessing what it was like for her. I cannot begin to imagine what she was going through in that hospital. But if it was me, and my husband couldn’t be right there and my family couldn’t be there right that minute. I can understand the need to reach out to someone, to anyone, and ask for help, support, prayers, anything to just not feel alone. I can understand the need to tell someone, anyone, just to touch reality.

When I saw Shellie’s Twitter profile, she had 5400 followers. In a matter of 30 seconds, 5400 people were asked to pray like you’ve never prayed before. Even if half of those people retweeted that message, and only had 100 followers each, that’s 27000 more people notified. And so, in a matter of minutes, thousands upon thousands of people knew that Bryson Ross had fallen into his pool. For a person who believes in the power of prayer, that’s support, that’s faith, that’s hope.

There are people out there who truly are just evil vile people who within moments of reading her tweet, replied with things like A good mother wouldn’t be tweeting while her child fell in the pool, or If you weren’t on Twitter you could have been paying attention to him.

I want to say this. I don’t care if that cell phone was in her hand, in her pocket, in her purse, in the house, in her car, or hell in the toilet or left at the park. That cell phone, and by extension, Twitter, did not take Bryson.

All of this has once again brought social networking under fire. But then again, when people don’t understand something, they attack it. I work outside the house. I have to, I’m a single mother. I can understand that for some SAHM’s the social interaction found in blogging and on Twitter, is the most adult interaction they will have for hours a day. Just like I’ve asked people on Twitter for help finding a background image, Shellie asked Twitterers to pray.

On my way to work the other day, they brought up Shellie’s story. (This has been picked up and not only gone viral on line, it’s on national news). Immediately, armed with only half the facts, they started to lay blame on Shellie and Twitter. Even admitting that they weren’t exactly sure how Twitter worked. I did something I had never done before. I picked up my cell phone and called the radio show. I tried to explain what I knew and that is that the tweet was sent from the hospital, and it was sent for support, not for attention.

In the midst of this brewing storm, there is one simple fact that has gotten lost, and that is, a little boy has died and a family grieves.

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December 20th, 2009

Birthday Wishes

Today you will become a member of the ‘Over 40 Club’.  I didn’t get to share the first 40 years with you, but I plan on being there for the next 40.

Happy Birthday Babe, I love you….

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December 18th, 2009

Not everyone needs to read everything I need to write, so obviously I put it on the internet for the world to find.

I had a post all ready to go and had this awesome title for it, when I realized it wasn’t something I needed to write for everybody to read.

But I had this really awesome title all ready to go, and seriously? It really seemed such a was of a perfectly awesome title. So then the challenge became, write to fit the title.  Go about the whole process back-ass-ward. You know because doing things back-ass-ward is totally the way I roll.

The thing with the post I was going to write is that it may have had to be password protected.  There were some things I was going to write about that I didn’t want some people who read my blog (read ex husbands and ex  mothers-in-law and current significant others of said exes and said ex husbands, and well, a whole lot of other people too) to know about.  Hence the password.

The thing that struck me, is this.  If I didn’t want someone to read what I wrote, why would I put it on the most public, far reaching, least public place, the internet? No matter how many precautions you put in place, everyone will eventually find you, no matter how many precations you take.  Ok maybe it ’s a way to vent, and get help/advice from our on line friends without sharing TMI with other people.

password protected

I mean, I have password protected posts on my blog. I even have private posts that can only be seen by people who are logged into my blog.  I get the need to protect some information, and keep some posts secret. I understand the need to keep certain people from reading everything I write.

As a reader, when I see a password protected blog post, I know that I could email the author, explain that I read their blog often, and ask for the password, and chances are I’d be granted access to a very private matter in their life.
And that is exactly why I don’t.  I don’t feel that I know them well enough to be privy to such private and personal, don’t want to share with the rest of the world information.  I am, in fact, the rest of the world.  I don’t know the history behind the story or whatever.  It just makes me feel like I’m prying or being nosy, neither of which is true.  If the post written is not for public consumption, then I won’t read it. I am after all, the public.   They felt the need for some kind of privacy, I respect that privacy, and don’t ask for permission to read what they obviously don’t want to share with the entire world.

So, while not everyone needs to read what I need to write, I don’t always write what everyone out there can read.

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December 13th, 2009

Christmas Meme

Susan from Susan Forbes’ Family Formula tagged me for a Christmas meme. I’m supposed to answer some holiday themed questions then tag 5 of my favorite reads. YAY! A mini pseudo interview!

Have you started your Christmas shopping?
What’s today? December 13th? I’ve still got 11 days. I’ll probably go next week. Do it all in one trip, no regrets, no second guessing, and stay on budget. Bada Bing.

Tell me about one of your special traditions.
We spend one day all of the girls in the kitchen baking cookies (and eating cookie dough) until we are both sick and tired of cookies.

Are you a Black Friday Shopper?
Not on your life. There are usually better sales the closer to Christmas it gets. By then the only crowd you have to deal with are the men who have no idea what to buy and are wandering around the store lost.

When do you put up your Tree?
We bought our tree today. 13 feet. It looked pretty until you have to decorate it. Real ones go up 2 weeks before Christmas, artificial go up first weekend of December.

Do you Travel at Christmas or Stay home?
Growing up we used to travel to Kansas to have Christmas with my extended family. Now the only traveling I do is taking the girls to their dad.

What is your funniest Christmas memory?
It has to be the year I had no idea what to buy my brother for Christmas, so I bought him a case of beer.

What is your favorite Christmas Movie of All time?
My favorite Christmas movie is Christmas Eve on Sesame Street, when Oscar was still a grouch, Cookie Monster still ate cookies, and Mr. Hooper was still alive. My other favorite is How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Not the dicked up Jim Carey version, the original cartoon.


Do you do your own Christmas Baking, what’s your favorite treat?
My favorite cookies are Russian Tea cakes. My favorite candy is peanut brittle, extra peanuts..

Fake or Real Tree?
Now that we have Christmas with Brian and his family, it’s real.

What day (as a mom) does the actual panic set in to get it all done?
Maybe I’m a freak, but I don’t panic. Last year we shopped that morning, I wrapped it that afternoon, we opened them that night. I totally rocked it that year.

Are you still wrapping presents on Christmas Eve?
God I hope not. I hope I have it all done before our big day. Last year I did

What is your favorite family fun time at Christmas?
Watching the excitement on their face as they wait to open presents.


What Christmas craft do you like the best?
Please define the word craft.

Christmas music. Yes or No, and if yes What is your favorite song?
Sparingly. Too early, too often, too long and I’m over it. My fav

orite song? You’re a mean one Mr. Grinch. And Mary did you know.

When do you plan to finish all your shopping?
Hopefully before Christmas Eve. Maybe next weekend.


Now that you know how my family celebrates, what traditions do you follow? I am tagging the following:

Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka

Donna at The Obnoxious SAHM

Denise at Kitterztoo

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December 12th, 2009

Christmas Joy

I have spent most of the afternoon (you can do that when you don’t have kids at home) trying to align my blog title and install a Christmas header image.  As you can tell I was only 50% successful.  After numerous frustrating hours, I gave up. It looks good enough.

Tomorrow we have to go buy the Christmas Tree.  Won’t that be fun in the cold (read 30 degrees) and wet (read, rain)? Why can’t we buy Christmas trees in say, September or October when it’s warm?

I haven’t even started my Christmas shopping.  Have you SEEN the malls these days?  There are people everywhere. WTF? Oh and Wal-Mart? Yeah don’t go there.  There are more people there.

I know what most of the people out there need for Christmas… driving lessons.  They think that turn signals mean Get the fuck out of my way, I’m coming over. Right in front of you.

My children think that Christmas lists are carte blance to lose their ever loving minds.  A 32 inch flat screen TV? Really? A diamond ring? Seriously? I haven’t gotten mine yet.  Diamond anything.. at 12, 10 or even 7, uh.. NO.

Why is it we think that this is the time of year to buy things we can’t afford to give to people we don’t particularly like, so they can turn around and return it to the store we bought it from?

Why is it you never get one of those family holiday newsletters that says things like, “Junior is doing is second stretch in jail for (fill in the misdemeanor here) so there is no point in buy any gifts from him.  You could just send the  money you would spend on his gifts to his sister Desire because she managed to get herself knocked up by some no good wanna be bass guitar player in a rock n roll band, but is killing time waiting for that dream to come true, working down at the Pump in Go, which is pretty much what he tried to do with Desire.”    Those letters would actually be worth reading.

Why do guys wait until October/November to go on shopping sprees for themselves. All of a sudden everything they want, they just go out and buy, leaving us with absolutely no idea what to buy for them because they have already bought everything they want.  Guess it will be socks and underwear.

I hate it when you spend a few six hours untangling unwrapping strings from last year, while cussing out the friggin’ lights singing Christmas carols, only to find out 2 of the 5 strands don’t work.  So, off to the store to buy more lights and while you’re there, might as well get more eggnog and rum or Jack Daniels, and forget the eggnog because you know that is exactly what you need to get the damn lights on the tree..booze.

Don’t even get me started on the whole Santa charade.  I mean, really?  Keep the kids up until you’re ready to kill them only to find out they took a 2 hour nap that afternoon so they can stay up and wait for Santa. Once you get them into bed, ever 30 seconds you  hear “Is he here yet?” from their room to the point you’re ready to glue their mouth shut. Remember that booze you bought while putting up the tree?  Yeah, you decide who’s throwing one back, you or the kids. Kidding. Well, sort of.  Benedryl works good in this case. Now its a race, do they fall asleep before you pass out?

Thirteen days till Christmas.  I need more rum.

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December 11th, 2009

Come back… please come back.

I know I’ve been gone for a week, it’s been a busy week.  I promist is you come back there will be new and exciting things to read.

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December 5th, 2009

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe,

Catch a Tiger by his *ahem* toe.  If he hollers, make him pay.

I don’t need to rehash the week’s events in Tiger’s life.  They have been splashed all over every possilbe news and entertainment network in minute detail and analysed by every quack they could find who wants to make a few bucks and get 15 minutes of fame, ad nauseum.

When the accident was first reported, it was with lightening speed that the media started looking for unflattering reasons, as if the  king had fallen from his thrown and they piled on.  All of a sudden the always in control God of Golf had become human and they wanted to tear him limb for limb.  The repsect they had shown him throughout his career no longer mattered and was gone.

He talked to the police once, gave his side of the story (obviously the tree and fire hydrant didn’t have much to say) and as a fender bender it should have been dropped there.  They came three more times, and he refused to talk to the police, which is his right.  He had already been charged with destruction of property.  There was no need for any additional visits. How many times have the cops made several house calls after any kind of accident?  Seriously?  It’s handled at the sight and they go on.  At that point the police were already in bed with the press and paparazzi and were using their authority to get any kind of incriminating evidence of transgrations on Tiger’s part.

Of course their turned out to be, and now that is being splashed all over ever news and entertainment station for the world to see. Tiger is being vilified.  All of a sudden his 70 plus victories on the course no longer matter.  The very people who had named him God of Golf, were now, throwing stones at him, as if they had that right.

I am not defending for a second Tiger’s actions.  If there truly was a 3 year affair, then yes, he is wrong, and yes he has some things to answer to.  But not to us.  He had not wronged us the public.  He has committed no sin against us.  Sure we are disaapointed in him, but frankly this matter is between him and his wife.  There is no need for the public or the paparazzi to be documenting everything in their life.  This is now a very private time for them,  I personally don’t need to know the name of the cocktail watress, I don’t need to hear voice mail messages, I don’t want to read text messages. it is truly none of our busiess.

Just because the Jackson family is willing to sell every single bit of Mike, from his hair to his DNA for a buck, and just because they have no moral compass, common sense, does not mean everyone should have every detail of their life plastered everywhere for everyone to see.

Tiger and his family are hurting right now.  Tiger committed a sin, not against us, not against the golf world, not against the sports world. Against his wife, and his children.  He needs to focus on them and we need to give him the peace and the time to do that.

Just because he is the God of Golf does not mean that every single aspect of his life is up for public consumption. He needs to have a family llife, a private life, and the press needs to respect the boundaries he draws.  This isn’t just about Tiger, it’s about all celebrities.  At what point did we determine that every aspect of their lives was ours to exploit?

Where has the respect for privacy gone?  And just how close are we now to living in Georger Orson’s 1984?

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December 1st, 2009

Post of the Week

Ask any blogger why they blog and the answer more likely than not will be “I blog for me.” And in the beginning, that probably is true.  But that first comment from outside your friends and family circle is exciting and intoxicating. From that point on, the focus changes in an effort to get that rush from a comment from the outside.  Someone you have never met is now reading your words.

Imagine the rush I got when I read the email from Knucklehead letting me know that my post “Dear Santa” was picked as his Post of the Week.  For the first time I since I started blogging, someone read what I wrote and had given me an award for it.  And he had mentioned me on his blog, recommending people come read me.  The recognition was intoxicating (wow, I never realized how much I use that word.)

In my euphoria, I sent a text message to Brian.  “I just got an award for something I wrote on my blog!”

He didn’t answer right away. I wasn’t surprised. He just doesn’t understand the blogosphere. Of course he was at work, but that couldn’t be the reason he wasn’t responding. It had to be because he just didn’t get it.

So, because I wanted to brag, and wanted a pat on the back, (Ok, a wanted a *lot* more than a pat on the back, but you know, work and all…) I sent him a 2nd text message. “People are starting to notice me!”

“Of course they are, how could they not? You’re a very noticeable person.”

Uh, what does that mean? Oh well, can’t be bothered with that. I’m going to be somebody.

So I fired of a 3rd text message “This could lead to writing gigs.  Paying writing gigs. You know, for real money!?!” Jeez doesn’t he see how important I am going to be this is to me?  I mean I could start getting paid for twittering online all day writing. I could just say I’m doing research.

“The cool thing is, getting paid for writing on my blog, and others for that matter, will surely lead to a book deal! I mean, really, that’s the next logical step. Obviously!”

I get a text message from Brian that said “Cool”. Obviously he was not as impressed as I thought he should be.  I mean seriously, I could be on the New York Times Best Sellers List someday.

And all because of Knucklehead.

post of the week award

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