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Showing posts from March, 2011

Girl Scouts - is there a badge for "reluctant mom?"

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My daughter wants to be a Girl Scout. I don't think she knows much about the whole deal - she just knows that some of her friends are Girl Scouts. She suspects she might be missing out on something fun, something social, and most of all, a chance to run her mouth with her friends. I was never a Girl Scout myself. I think it was a combination of me being fairly introverted as a child and my mom not being too keen on driving kids around all the time. I can't say that I blame her. I've generally told A that she can do one activity at a time and I'll be happy to take her. She regularly takes swim, gymnastics, and dance classes at the Y - but not concurrently. I am frazzled enough as it is. Anyway, I don't really know a lot about Girl Scouts, except that moms of Girl Scouts seem to end up with a thousand cases of cookies in their living room once a year. I don't know that I should be given easy access to thin mints. I am capable of eating a sleeve of them in one

Good boy, Kaiser

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Plastic poop I worked at a pet expo Friday and yesterday.  On Friday, one of my fellow volunteers brought their foster dog, who did fairly well with all the attention.  Yesterday, I brought my foster dog, Kaiser. I was really proud of how well he did. Pet expos can be pretty stressful for a dog because they have to endure a lot of petting and poking. First off, I'd like to applaud the parents who teach their children to ask before petting a dog they don't know.  Lots of kids did remember to ask before petting Kaiser.  Obviously, we would not bring a kid-hating dog to a pet expo, but I think children should observe dog safety rules in general.  My daughter is required to ask before she can pet a dog.  She also may not bother a dog that is eating or sleeping.  Anyway, most of the kids who came by were very polite and well-behaved.  Sometimes I wonder about some of the adults, though. One lady came by and said she wants to make snowsuits for dogs. She whipped out a measuri

Ennui

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And she’s making the scene With the coffee and cream And the copy machine’s not working She’s a hell of a girl She’s alone in the world And she likes to say hey good lookin She’s on her way She’s taking a sick day . . . soon And she’s taking her time As she’s tossing a dime At the man in the cardboard coffin It doesn’t have to be fine She’s ahead of the line And doesn’t have to be here too often She’s making a play She’s taking a sick day . . . soon from "Sick Day" by Fountains of Wayne Lately I have been feeling the need to take a mental health day. My mom used to let us take the occasional mental health day from school, as long as we made up the work.  Well, I shouldn't say "us" because I'm not sure she ever extended the offer to my middle sister.  My middle sister was sometimes home from school anyway . . . because she was suspended (sorry, sis! I love you!). My mood exactly I think I'm just vaguely bored. It's not that I

Hard Questions

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In the past week, I was forced to explain the following concepts to my little buttercup: Taxes Cremation Why her birthmom chose us to be her parents When my sisters and I were growing up, our mom would always say, "Why can't you girls ever ask me an easy question like, 'do butterflies have teeth?'"  Now I know how she felt. First, the taxes . . . if you're lucky, you've got a Liberty Tax office in your neck of the woods.  If you're even luckier, your local branch forces hapless employees (or maybe they hire day laborers? I have no idea) to stand at the nearest intersection wearing Statute of Liberty garb. On Thursday, the kid and I were headed to the gym (me to step aerobics, her to the kids' play area) when she asked me about the dancing halfwit on the corner of the intersection. "Well," I started. "It's for a tax place. They are trying to get us to have our taxes done there." "What are taxes?" "T

And on a lighter note . . .

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My local Dairy Queen is hiring fruit smoothies.

Pray the Gay Away

Have you checked out " Our America with Lisa Ling ?"  I caught a commercial for the show, was intrigued, and added it to my DVR list. It's on Oprah's network. Honestly, doesn't Oprah get just a little sick of herself?  Sure, name a magazine after yourself. And a talk show. But a whole network? I worry that she may be eyeing some forlorn unnamed planet in some neighboring solar system next. Anyway, I digress. I find the "Our America" series interesting because Lisa Ling seems to have come up with a few topics that haven't already been beaten to death in a hundred other ways. The recent "Pray the Gay Away" episode all but broke my heart (and the episode about sex offenders living in the woods made it a little queasy). The "Pray the Gay Away" show featured a camp for kids who are gay but also Christian. I'm aware that many believe that being gay and being Christian are mutually exclusive. It saddened me to see and hear what the

First Festibul of the Season

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There's not much going on in our neck of the woods.  I did some spring cleaning today, even though we've still got snow everywhere (and will get more, no doubt). Yesterday I took the kid to an art festival. Within thirty minutes of our arrival, I was forced to carry the following: Her sweater A still-wet painting of a butterfly and a flower A Chinese mask that she colored A bag of kettle corn A brownie A bottle of water A papier-mache rose A monoprint (I think that was what it was called - she painted an image on glass and then it was transferred to a piece of wet paper and put through a press) The only reason she didn't make me carry her coat was that I'd had the good sense to use the complimentary coat check.  She got to use a pottery wheel to make a bowl, and I have to pick that up in three weeks.  In other news, I'm on Day 4 with no Diet Pepsi. I definitely notice my energy waning by mid-afternoon. I think I need to get rid of the leftover case of Pe

Test of will

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Oh Diet Pepsi, it's not you - it's me . After giving some thought to my last blog entry, I've decided to do two things: Break up with Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi (all forms of soda, for that matter) Try not to eat after 6 p.m. Sunday through Friday So, yesterday was my first soda-less day. I had a colossal, epic headache by 2 p.m. . . . just in time to head to a client meeting. I popped two ibuprofen and kept my fingers crossed that I could make it through the meeting without a) falling asleep or b) snapping. The first thing the client did was to turn down the lights and fire up a projector so that we could review some websites. I almost nodded off a few times, but I managed to stay awake by mentally counting the number of times he said the word "path."  As in, go down the right path, make sure we're on the right path, path path path.  The total count? Seven. I guess the fact that I had a headache and felt sleepy/cranky/out-of-sorts does speak to the fact t

Why must I be so . . .

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. . . Rubenesque?  I try to refrain from adopting an overly confessional tone with my blog. I also try to stay away from TMI-type posts. You don't want to know how frequently I menstruate or how often my husband and I have, ahem, marital relations. For the most part, I try to invoke a little humor, keep the topics fairly light, go off on a tangent every so often, but mostly just keep writing. My main topics seem to boil down to: Animal rescue How adorable (and feisty) my child is Adoption Pet Peeves/things that are wrong with the world My weight Pure randomness For the past year and a half, my weight has really been vexing me.  I know this is a boring topic, which is why I don't bring it up as often as it actually pops into my head - about a hundred times a day.  Some days I feel as if I can think of nothing else. I sometimes wonder if I've got some deep-seated trauma in my past that I'm trying to repress?  When I watch shows like "Heavy" it seems l

Girls' Weekend

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Our girls' weekend went well.  On Friday night, we hung out and I painted the kid's fingernails and toenails. She's very petite, as you know, and her little toenails can barely be seen with the naked eye, so this little exercise was actually fairly challenging for me and my old-lady eyes. On Saturday morning, I took her to my Weight Watchers meeting with me. Speaking of which, are you wondering how I'm doing with the June challenge I gave myself? Yeah, me too.  I guess I've been holding pretty steady.  I had three solid work-outs last week (one hour on the treadmill on Saturday, yoga class on Tuesday, and step aerobics class on Thursday) and somehow managed to gain a couple ounces at this week's weigh-in. Part of me wonders if I should just try to keep focusing on being healthy vs. being thin. I would also like to have my younger self's metabolism back, please. After the meeting, we went to the gym. They have a kids' playroom and it only costs me $1.50

Guys' Weekend

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Please forgive me for being so excited about this, but my other half is going out of town for the weekend.  He's leaving at noon tomorrow. He's headed to a cabin or a resort or an old-time biblical revival or something with a bunch of his friends from grade school. I didn't even ask for too many details, to be honest. I just assume that the weekend involves poker and alcohol and detailed discussions about bodily functions. Why am I so gleeful about his departure, you ask? Why, unfettered access to the TV, of course!  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I love my husband.  I even like him.  We've been together for almost 19 years.  He's a good guy, a good husband, and an excellent father.  However, he spends a lot of time on our couch when he's not at work. Honestly, I worry he's going to develop bedsores over the course of a weekend sometimes. He watches sub-standard movies that arrive in the mail from Netflix (recent examples: Hatchet and Hatchet II - really