Repost

This seems as good a time as any to alienate my reading audience, since it's getting so large and the email volume is just exhausting. Oh, wait. That's right. My audience consists of my husband (because he lives here so I have him trapped), my mother (probably the only one reading without prompting), and my three sisters (who may or may not be tuning in periodically). So, hey, where are all the emails? Where's the love? Heeeelllllooooo. Is anybody out there? But I digress. I will try not to wax self-righteous, not to mention self-congratulatory. But it is so hard not to let the general reaction go straight to your head. When I tell people I don't have a tv, I couldn't get a more awed response if I told them that I'd served in a Washington think tank, gone over Niagara in a barrel, or cared for thousands of starving prostitutes in Nepal. My IQ immediately goes up 40 points in the respondent's estimation, along with my eccentricity quotient.

Anyway, here's the story. Some years ago, my husband and I moved to the East Coast to live by the ocean. For God only knows what reason, my husband insisted that we sell everything we owned, including our three tvs. We ended up getting an apartment a half block off the ocean with a friend, who did not sell all her stuff before moving. Now, we didn't really watch much tv before we sold our household, and we watched even less after moving to the ocean. When the lease was up and our roommate moved out taking her tv with her, we decided that instead of facing our new couch (since she also took her couch with her - drat the woman - I loved that couch) toward the now blank white wall, maybe we should turn it toward the big sliding glass doors looking out into the courtyard full of flowers and citrus trees.

This seemingly arbitrary decision has had numerous consequences. For one thing, we learned that if you don't have a tv, you should really have a view. Our next place, a townhouse near the beach, looked out on ... weeds and scrubby undergrowth. I don't recommend it - though frankly, it was still better than tv. But from our next (and hopefully last) place we could see the intracoastal. Our stress level went way down, which was really good since, unbeknownst to us, we were about to have two babies back to back to jack it up again. Our need to buy things (other than dinner), fix ourselves shopping, etc., basically just went away. The amount of memory cells wasted on completely useless information - who was sleeping with whom on "Friends" (the last sitcom we were hooked on) - was greatly reduced, another terrific benefit as we need those cells now to try to remember each other's names now that the children have arrived. Our interior decorating got much better, briefly (see above re arrival of children). And we got more time to play, blog, read, write, walk, hang out, and tune in to each other. At least, I assume we must have. Still, there never is enough time, is there?

Richest 400 people in U.S. increased their wealth by $670 billion under GWB

I took this whole section (below) from Senator Sanders's article in the Huffington Post. I can't even add anything - the numbers are so shocking, I'm just speechless:

The middle class has really been under assault. Since President Bush has been in office, nearly 6 million Americans have slipped into poverty, median family income for working Americans has declined by more than $2,000, more than 7 million Americans have lost their health insurance, over 4 million have lost their pensions, foreclosures are at an all time high, total consumer debt has more than doubled, and we have a national debt of over $9.7 trillion dollars.
While the middle class collapses, the richest people in this country have made out like bandits and have not had it so good since the 1920s. The top 0.1 percent now earn more money than the bottom 50 percent of Americans, and the top 1 percent own more wealth than the bottom 90 percent. The wealthiest 400 people in our country saw their wealth increase by $670 billion while Bush has been president. In the midst of all of this, Bush lowered taxes on the very rich so that they are paying lower income tax rates than teachers, police officers or nurses.
Now, having mismanaged the economy for eight years as well as having lied about our situation by continually insisting, "The fundamentals of our economy are strong," the Bush administration, six weeks before an election, wants the middle class of this country to spend many hundreds of billions on a bailout. The wealthiest people, who have benefited from Bush's policies and are in the best position to pay, are being asked for no sacrifice at all. This is absurd. This is the most extreme example that I can recall of socialism for the rich and free enterprise for the poor.

This is really funny

In a sad sort of way - but still, I laughed out loud.

The Family Bed

This, too, is a repost.

Perhaps this is not a good time to talk about the family bed. It's 11:30 or so and my two year old just went down finally (I think). The 7 month old went down after nearly nursing me into traction about a half hour ago. We started at 8:30 with the baby and at 9:30 with the two year old. The baby has decided that she likes staying up, too. Last night she was up until 2 - or should I say this morning?

We were finally (this week) able to enforce (mostly) a half hour limit for laying down with our older child. Two hour (or more) marathons of cuddle were not unusual. During said marathons, she would fall asleep only to pop up as soon as we moved. This week we put our feet down (and no, not in a stomping tantrum - tempting though it was) and insisted that if she was not asleep within a half hour she would have to go to sleep by herself (horrors). Of course, she's not exactly by herself, she has the baby in there to keep her company. However, she only likes to keep Conner company when Conner is trying to go to sleep; the rest of the time she doesn't want Conner in the same room with her, much less touching her.

Anyway, we had two lovely nights of peace. Then it happened. See the picture at the top? That is Conner. I took it last night at around 10. Conner's bedtime is between 7 and 8:30. At least it used to be. Now it's a crapshoot. Who knows? Though it has only been a year, I'd already forgotten the all out brawl against sleep stage, which has just started with Conner.

Unfortunately, I don't think we will have the half hour limit option with Conner since she claims not to understand us yet and just grins and laughs at us when we talk to her. I've thought about pinning her but it doesn't seem humane. I outweigh her by quite a bit. Still, she's pretty feisty.

What you can't see in the picture is that the bedroom is basically just one big bed: a queen and a single together on the floor (so the little darlings don't have far to fall). So much for interior decorating. It took me until right after Conner was born (I think it was after - it all blurs together) to convince my husband to surrender our decor and go for comfort and safety. Why I bothered I'm not sure. I still sleep in the same foot-wide section, now with one child tucked up against each side so I can't move either arm or roll over. I know. It sounds terrible. But you get used to it.... Unless you're my husband, lucky devil, with the whole single bed to himself (except for a few members of the stuffed menagerie).

I admit that the family bed was originally my idea, I was terrified of crib death, but I would have given up long ago - and I'm sticking to that, it's all his fault. When we put little Maryn in the crib, way back when, and laid down in our lovely big bed in our quiet grown-ups' room, I had about 10 minutes of spreading out, on my back, just how I like to sleep, smiling peaceably, when he said, "I think she's going to be lonely and cold in there. We should go get her.""Do you realize what you're doing?" I asked."I know, I know," he said, "But she shouldn't have to sleep by herself. We don't. I want her in here."And just that simply it began. But you know what the funny thing is? I can't sleep without them, now. They sure do smell good, all cozy and soft.

Gaahhhh! It's 12:45 and Conner's up again!

Land of the Pink Flamingos

This is a retread, but it was funny and the timing is right, so I'm posting it again.

I was working on another post, but this one takes precedence. In fact, this one takes the cake.

Late last night, Scott and I were half-heartedly arguing about whether or not I was insanely over-protective (or just insane) because I insist upon reading the package inserts before dosing my children with prescription medication, which usually results in a decision not to follow the doctor’s instructions and another $20 wasted on unused medication (I come from a long line of brilliant diagnosticians – my mother was steadfastly treating her leukemia as an iron – or possibly a vitamin k – deficiency right up until she was admitted to Major Southern Cancer Institute, by emergency transport I might add).

In last night’s case the argument was over Conner’s wheezing. Scott talked me into giving her the nebulizer before I’d read the insert. Afterward, when I read said insert, I was furious – not to mention convinced that she was in dire peril – because she’d been prescribed (and given) twice the recommended dose for 6-11 year olds. Danged prescription happy doctors. In any case, while I was keeping Conner up to monitor her for an impending heart attack, we both noticed two cars moving slowly down the street in front of our house. A bit later, as the great debate continued, I heard young voices from the street then noticed what seemed to be figures dashing to and fro in my yard. I watched said activities for several minutes before mentioning them to my husband, as my exceedingly sharp deductive powers have also been ridiculed by the aforementioned heckler.

On his behalf, I should mention that my last bout of detective work resulted in a few nights without sleep and the effort of purchasing and installing a full set of motion detectors around the house. Scott still curses me for the extra work every time we pull into the driveway and he’s blinded by the still unanticipated light. In fact, now that I think of it, the motion lights were blazing at the time I noticed the activity in my yard. “Honey,” I finally said, “I think there are people walking around in our yard.”

“What??”

“Yes, I think they may be toilet papering our house.”

“What???” And he went bolting for the garage.

About that time, I noticed a familiar tall dark shadow near the electric pole.

“Wait a minute!” I said, “those are our people!” just as he ran onto the porch yelling and waving wildly.

And lo, they were our people.

My mother, two of my sisters, and four of my nieces and nephews were toilet papering our house. They were also populating our lawn with pink flamingos, about 60 of them at my husband’s guess, a new twist courtesy of my mother’s innate sense of goof, a trait my sisters and I have all inherited.

Welcome to the land of odd traditions. In my family, we toilet paper each other for Halloween. Try to explain that one to your neighbors! We served everyone lattes (or juice depending upon the age of the perpetrator) and homemade pumpkin muffins and hung out until about 1 in the morning, then they all drove home.

Scott couldn’t sleep he was so tickled by the whole thing. He couldn’t believe they drove 5 to 7 hours round trip just to toilet paper our house. We did clean up the toilet paper this morning, but the flamingos are still hanging out; they were too cool to take down.

Really well done post from a friend of OTJ on John McCain and his war service and what exactly that has to do with how well he would do as president.

I'm probably going to get my ass kicked for this

But this was my comment on a post:

I'm way in the minority - and I'm headed out on the limb. I am disconcerted to see so much agreement here. Hang with me for a minute. I realize this isn't going to be the popular opinion in this group and I am not at all trying to be disagreeable or controversial. I'm talking about something I truly feel I have a solution for in the hope that someone might like something in my idea and adopt it to suit.

I know not everyone can do what my husband and I are doing, but more people could than are. We consider raising our kids and keeping them safe our most important responsibility and we've changed our lives to do it. Anyway, we're homeschooling - in large part because we feel there's just too much violence and too little supervision in schools. There are other options too (co-ops, communal tutoring, flexible work schedules), for people who couldn't do things the way we do if you're willing to think outside the box a little.

Imagine you're at work. In front of all your co-workers, you get big kudos from the boss for the great job you did. As all of you are filing out of the office, your co-worker, the bully, gives you a hard punch in the arm or shoves you down the stairs. Do you beat the crap out of the guy or do you just call the police because, "Hey, man, I don't have to take that kind of stuff." We have laws on our side - if, as a grown up, you're so poorly adjusted that you have to use your fists to express yourself, you're pretty much doomed to spend a lot of time in a very small space.

My kid doesn't have those same protections. I'm my kid's protector. That's my job. My kids don't hang out with kids who are bullies. My kids don't watch television (unless you count the very occasional Kipper the Dog dvd) and are not subjected to violence they're not equipped to handle. My kids know they're safe, they're cared for, and they're loved - as all children should. I have a theory. My theory is that kids are rough because that's what they witness - or how they're treated - and because they're left on their own to figure out ways to handle things that they shouldn't have to. I've been in the same situation you described. I've been just as direct with the parent as you were, or, if the parent wasn't handy, with the kid. I don't hesitate to tell someone else's kid to settle down. Plenty loud enough for the parent to hear. And then I move my kid out of harm's way. Really, it's not "use your words" - it's "use your head" - and not as a battering ram. Violence begets violence. Take a good look around.

Made for Reality TV

I was sitting at breakfast today with some friends and the news was on. It was all about Sarah Palin's fashion sense. Now I don't deny that she's attractive and she can do a darn good job reading a speech someone else wrote from a teleprompter (sportscasting really paid off on that one), but what the heck does that have to do with leading the country? We're going to elect the leaders of our country based on a fashion show and a lot of invective? We are in the worst times, economically, ethically, and environmentally, that I've seen in my lifetime and everyone's excited about a cheerleader? I mean, someone's "elite" because he can write his own speech? I don't want a puppet for president - we've already had one and we're in a serious pickle because of it. Anyway, here's an interesting little article from one of Sarah Palin's fellow townspeople.