Thursday, March 29, 2007

Fun

My father in law sent me this. Taking a tip out of MamaD's book and have a youtube day.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Rainbow

I am gonna come out and tentatively say.... we are all better. Still taking the antibiotics and all prescribed meds, still running a little low energy-wise, still hacking and snotting: but it's all in the cleanup stages.

Poor Birdie, my strep/scarlet fever girl is peeling. She was pretty freaked out about it, and while I am not thrilled about her sobbing hysterically about her skin falling off, I have to admit that I feel fairly successful in that she is so very fair and yet has not ever had a bad enough sunburn to ever peel before. Not even close. Zero experience, WOOT!

I don't know if it's the comparison of this week to last week. Maybe I have had a wee epiphany, maybe just grateful to be feeling better... but I feel so joyous! My folks sent me a really great print of a watercolor by an artist down in Madrid, NM. (oops, artist not from Madrid... but purchase at a store there) It's a brightly colored and whimsical piece that the artist titled "Laughter and Noise." Under the painting it says


"There are lives I can imagine without children

but none of them have the same laughter and noise."

There are several things that I really love about this print. The colors are bright and fun, it doesn't take itself seriously, the text is a little offbeat... but more than anything? I love that my dad found it and thought of me. I love that he was spot ON with a thing that I would love. I love that it came at the end of a pretty dark week... like a rainbow.

I actually have never tried to imagine my life without the Chaos Girls. I thought about it today... what it would be like if they had not come to us. I bet I would have really nice furniture, and I would still be smart. Dadguy and I would probably have gone on some great vacations... life certainly would not be empty. But life would not have the same laughter and noise, and I wouldn't know for a fact that I could survive a week like last week and retain a sense of humor about it.

I may not be as smart anymore... but I am more resilient.

Pee Ess... if you have not yet seen this? WAHhahahahahaaaa!


Sunday, March 25, 2007

Sunday Pic: Early Birdie




Just a couple of shots of the Birdster when she was about 18 months old...

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Too Tired To Title This

I am so, so, so sorry. I really have tried to stay away from the computer. I promised myself that the bloggy wouldn't hear from me until I had an "all clear" to announce. I swore that the next post would be cheery.

It is giggly in a demented sort of an off-kilter way, I mean.... how many different hits of contagious, vile, painful but not terribly serious illnesses can one family of five take?

DO NOT ANSWER THAT.

So we awoke this morning to LaLa's little body starting to heat back up again. I will spare everyone the drama with the doctor's office, and sum it up with the following....

As soon as I can get healthy enough, I am finding us a new pediatrician. Love my doctor, love the nurses, love the PA's.... hatehatehaterage and despise the new office staff and new "rules" and new focus of the office. Did I mention that the "clinic" now offers "aesthetic" medical treatments. I crap you not... laser resurfacing, cellulite treatments and laser hair removal. A half hour drive there and then another half hour back is not great either, especially considering their new "clinic policies."

Where was I? Oh, yeah. LaLa. She has an ear infection. And probably strep. And whatever the heck else, who cares? So after yet another trip to the doctor's office today, they gave me a script for her. Antibiotics. Wheee.

pee.ess. Have closed the comments because, really.... what else is there to be said? Go make something and put it in a jar.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

View From the Bottom

Have hit all time low. But from down here, I have picked up a few fun facts to share...

1. Even Mormons get to take a swing at "drunk blogging" of a sort. It's called "Nyquil Blogging" and I'm comin' atcha live bay-bay! Wheee!

2. When your sense of smell has been knocked out by a random flu bug, and your temp is ranging around 102... you cannot smell the puke that your three year old left on the living room carpet, so clean up is a breeze. At least you THINK so, as you are left with only a hazy recollection of the particulars.

3. Five year olds sporting visible symptoms of Scarlet Fever, and dark circles under their eyes earns you the comfy couch in the oh-so-stylish doctors waiting room.

4. Sick babies and three year olds are extra cuddly, thereby screening your face from view of others in that stylish waiting room. This is good because you are crying tears of exhaustion, frustration and a little dose of shame.

5. Only family can tolerate the blow by blow health crap and self pity that I have put my bloggity friends and family through. Congratulations, if you have read this and are not an actual blood relative? You are now family. Consider yerself an official member of Chaos.


And for those of y'all out there who are true diehards? Here's how it all fell out, according to our best information, supposition and doctor's opinion.

Bon- Really, really sick... with lots of sicknesses. A new inhaler and new drugs. Wheee.

Birdie- Strep throat and scarlet fever (an occasional side show in the Strep Throat Shuffle)

LaLa- Had stomach flu... may get strep. May also have cold. Is merely sickish now.

Pearl- Same old party, bronchialitis clean-up... has a new tooth.

Dadguy- Came down with cold from stress of playing nursemaid to all, and dealing with wretch of a wife.

Am hoping that the darkness of the past few days will lighten up and fade as health improves. Am desperately hoping health improves... SOON. Am thinking about deleting this self-pitying slop of a post...

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Musical Meme-ity meme-ery

Picked up this bug from Nobody™ and as it is the ONLY bug that is not causing hacking, burning or spewing around here... I feel fine sharing.

List seven songs you are into right now...no matter what they are. BUT. They must be songs you are presently enjoying. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

1. Times Like These- Foo Fighters
2. Got You (Where I Want You)- The Flys
3. Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse
4. Little Sister- Queens Of The Stone Age
5. Love Me Like A Man- Bonnie Raitt
6. Matte Kudesai- King Crimson
7. Some Kind Of Wonderful- Joss Stone

Now with the taggin'
1. Suburban Gorgon
2. Shelli
3. Sari
4. Sara k
5. J.D.
6. Mama D
7. Elizasmom

Monday, March 19, 2007

Flu, Leperosy... Whatever

The entire House of Chaos threw in the towel yesterday. I was sporting a huge hacking cough (shocker, I know) and a 101 temp. Pearl had taken a turn for the worse, and both the older girls sounded funny and looked peaked. Turns out everyone is glad we did... the fevers spread and LaLa started yarking. Dadguy took a day off of church duties to play nursemaid to us all.

Last night I brought out the two new pony coloring books that were supposed to have been a church "quiet treat." Birdie and I were coloring and swapping crayons. She handed me the violet crayon and I said "Thank You."

"If you don't say Thank You, do you get leopard skin?" Birdie asked.

Not missing a beat I asked, "are you talking about Jesus and the ten Lepers?"

She was. It's official, I'm a Mom.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Sunday Pic:Discovery

Meet Wally. He is a giant white rabbit that recently appeared on our driveway. He is one of the sure signs of the very beginning of Spring.




Meet the Periwinkle blossoms that began peeping out in this sunny, protected corner... another one of the first signs that Spring is JUST AROUND THE CORNER!



Meet this jar of pickled pigs feet that lived, front and center in our pantry for over a week before they were outed by your truly. The idea started out funny, but after a while I began to be nagged by the suspicion that Dadguy had seen them, but wasn't saying anything because he thought that I was going to EAT them. I hope that I do not here, offend anyone who enjoys themselves a nice treat of some feets, but lets just say that these suckers are well out of my range of comestible items.

You need to know that Dadguy has himself a few dietary quirks and restrictions. He has never eaten meat. Other than very crispy-cooked bacon eaten as a child, and chicken broth, the more processed the better... he is a vegetarian. Only... he rarely will actually eat vegetables, outside of tomato sauce on his cheese pizza. Or pumpkin pie. He will eat potatoes and corn.... but they must be simply prepared... no fancy cream sauces. He will eat NOTHING that contains vinegar. And so go virtually all condiments and salad preparations, plus lettuce gives him acid tummy.

Dinner time is a party. The girls have not yet figured out that Daddy doesn't exactly eat what they eat. I try to have at least one item on the table that he can eat: pasta, potatoes, a good bread item, quesadillas... so far so good. I suspect that Birdie will call him on it in a very short time. We will cross that bridge when we get there.

When it comes to food, I horrify the man on a daily basis... what with my love of feta cheese, salsa, sauerkraut, tuna fish and green olives. And steak.

I hope that everyone will forgive me for ruining a perfectly good joke... but I finally had to ask him if he was just being "kind" by not saying anything about the thing in the pantry. He had no idea. Standing in front of the Pantry with the door flung open wide? It still took him the better part of a minute to find 'em.

"But they are on the can and jar shelf," he protested. "I never use anything that stays on that shelf! Everything there is... canned"

And he was right. Except for the canned pizza sauce, he uses the canned pizza sauce. We made pizza the next day. If I had only kept my mouth shut.



Friday, March 16, 2007

Angel Soft X-files



You know how on X-files or cop shows that the protagonist will walk into their house or apartment, everything is dark and a mysterious intruder sits half in shadow. They are there to threaten or give a clue... possibly to SHOOT agent Mulder or something equally nefarious.

It's a good thing that I don't live the kind of life that would inspire someone like the
CSM to sit and wait for ME to get home... 'cause if they did, whatever business they felt they had with me would have to wait till I peed first. It's very likely that I'd be giving them a full moon view as I scuttle past at top speed. Dude. It's URGENT when I get home, no matter what!

zero segue... deal with it.


So, it's bronchiolitis for the Pearl girl. We are just returned from the docs with a fresh script for antibiotic/steroids/nebulizer treatments. Plus now? I have to go on the nebulizer as well.

People... do you KNOW that I have a brand new episode of 24 just waiting to be watched since Monday? I am hoping with my fingers crossed that I get to watch it tonight. We return you now to your regularly scheduled pursuits...

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Lung Crud 2.6

So Pearl and I are going the rounds with a new... whatever. It makes you tired, and feel bad, and cough. A lot.

Hopefully she has what I had. The debilitating part lasts 48 hours, and then it's just some clean-up.

Speaking of clean-up... there is this HOUSE! Ew!

In the interest of digging my way out of this pit of slime... I will shoot you a fun link to my new favorite site.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Playdates

Here is the skinny:

  • Birdie, age five
  • LaLa, age three
  • Pearl, age one
Birdie and LaLa are great sisters. Yeah, they fight... but they have an amazing bond and love for each other. Now that the level of health in the household of Chaos is improving, we are starting to look at the "friends" issue again. Particularly troubling for me: Playdates.

My new friend Sarah K. wrote a post that reminds me that I am confused. When the ages of your children are so close, they will sometimes have friends crossover. Girls who are Birdie's age that LaLa considers her friends as well. For instance, this year is the "odd" year birthdays for both Birdie and LaLa... Odd birthdays are the years that we have a "friends party." LaLa insisted on inviting Sunshine as one of her three guests. You know... three years old she gets three guests, five years old gets five guests and so on. Sunshine was invited to Birdies party, but she was also one of LaLa's three guests for her party. Sunshine is four, but she is actually closer to Birdie's age, and they are in the same class in Primary.

Here is the thing. Often these girls who play so well together here in Chaos, they don't consider LaLa to be a friend back. Or they don't think about it, or it's up to their mom... but the upshot is
that LaLa is usually not invited to go with Birdie when the playdate is at their house.

I have mentioned this to several moms of Birdies friends in the past, but they still do not invite LaLa. Am I the one who is lost? Am I trying to shield LaLa from a natural bummer that comes with being younger?

The other side to this is that when Birdie is invited but LaLa is not, the sobs and tears from LaLa are genuine and heart rending. Poor Birdie is such a squish, and she will often end up crying and hugging LaLa back saying things like "I will miss you TOO LaLa! why can't LaLa go!??" And I am the heartless ogre that gets to pry them apart and send one along on her way.

I also do want to give the girls the opportunity to be and grow into themselves, and maybe this is a natural thing that should happen....but it is really heartbreaking. I have tried the route of having LaLa have a playdate with a friend closer to her own age, but this can be problematic because a number of the girls are not as developed when it comes to actually playing with a friend. For instance, they want to play with the toys... but not really with LaLa. I think it's just a developmental thing... LaLa is wired to be social, so she has picked up on social stuff a little earlier.

Should I insist that playdates take both kids when I know that they really do all play well together? Should I just let the older one go by herself? I am torn, because Pearl is up and coming and soon she'll be in the mix so it's only going to get more confusing. Should I have a policy, or just take everything case by case?

I am sooo confused!

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Sunday Pic: The Teen Years




Here they are... now please keep in mind:

  • These pictures span 1985-1987ish
  • Small town girl
  • My parents were in charge of the camera
  • I was camera shy to boot
  • They were not interested in preserving documentation of my crazee-ness
  • I think they hoped it would just go away
  • I didn't get very naughty till I moved out
  • I didn't own a camera when I moved out
Sixteen, part of a glamour series taken by my sister "S" (that's "S" for "Supergirl"). My hair was cut in an asymmetrical cut.. very big deal in a small town back in the day. Plus I habitually let my very long bangs hang over one eye, kinda pre-Emo-ish.




Seventeen years old. Like the skirt? This is an actual for-factual flour sack purchased from an import store on Central in downtown Albq. My best friend also made herself one... we were sooooooo cool! Yes, that IS a bolo tie, with a beret which was given me by my uber-cool-college-punk-rock-first-boyfriend.. Notice on my ankle? That is a black suede cat collar with pearl studs. Sorry... it's a bad scan of a color copy.




Fall of my first year at UNM. That is an Ankh I am wearing around my neck and I appear to be rocking the Flock o' Seagulls hair, although if you had said as much to me? I likely would have spit on your shoe.

Friday, March 09, 2007

Respond-day-voo

Lynanne asks:
What is your favorite season and why?

I love all the seasons... but summer and winter always seem to overstay their welcome in my heart. This leaves spring and autumn. Spring is a sexy season of fertility, growth, rebirth and frankly, the smells of spring make me weep with joy. Still, the gloriousness of Autumn with her brisk air and crisp scents also make me weep, but quietly. I never get enough of either season... but I will have to vote for fall; her smells, her secretive side and her show-offy colors. Plus... hello? Halloween!

Blogarita asks:
Have you posted about how you and Dadguy met? If so, can you point me that way? If not, then will you tell us all now?

I have
not posted about how Dadguy and I met, and if anyone deserves an answer to this, it's my darling Blogarita! She is an unrepentant cradle robber the same as moi. I probly ought to go out of order and answer this after Elizasmom's query.... and if you like a chronological story, you may want to check that out first, but here ya go.

I served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints a little later than most do.
I just deleted a long paragraph explaining in detail the why's of it... just trust me when I say... I was freakishly old for a Mish-a-shish-a-nary. For a while I was companions with a gal from Utah who used to tell me about this cool guy from back home who had given her
this CD, had helped to prepare her for Missionary work in that way, taken her to this other concert... etc. I was familiar with Dadguy Chaos stories. When I returned to civilian life, I stayed for a short time in NM, but soon moved up to Utah. Long story.

I went to the "Homecoming" for my former companion, and it was at her parents house that I first clapped eyes on Dadguy. He was a major cute-booty, and when I started talking to him? Whooo! We talked a bunch and really hit it off, but he kind of hinted that he was there to see if there were any sparks with Sister Brand-New-Home... so I didn't push it. When I hinted at this to Sister BNH, she indicated that there were no sparks on her end, so I filed that info away.

About a month later I needed a date for my Christmas work party. I sucked it up and asked Sister BNH if she had that Dadguy's phone number so I could ask him. She was... mmm shocked that I was interested. She had been busily trying to set him up with every single one of her former companions
except me! I was too old.

Yeah... whatev!

I called and asked him out, yet we never did go on that date... I came down with Strep throat the day of. No worries, Dadguy had been thinking about me ever since the day we met, and had assiduously attending every social function that Sister BNH held or attended that he could, trying to catch me again. (I have never asked him to fess up to also still working the Sister BNH angle) Now he had my phone number and an opening? We were engaged by Valentines Day, and married on April 6th, 2000.

Fantastagirl asks:

1) When are you coming to visit?
I haven't the foggiest right now... but it for sure won't be this year. Finishing the basement and a trip this fall to Disneyland is gonna suck us DRY. On the flip side... do you guys wanna go to Disneyland this fall? Off season is so much cheaper, and no lines!

2) When will Tink grow?
I suspect that she is in for a big jump in second grade... until then it'll be small increments. At least she'll be the cutest girl if not the tallest girl in her class! (aren't
you kinda short m'dear?)

3) Will Pan keep his love for reading when he is older?
Gracious yes! He will be a Sci-fi nut for a few years, starting at age nine when the good stuff becomes more accessible to him. Then he will start branching out into other genre, but he will always be a reader.

4) Why do I always burn my hands when I bake?
You do not own an Ove Glove. Go get one.

I would like to add a #5....
5) Do you often talk right outta yer butt?
Thanks for asking, yes... yes I DO!

Nobody asks:

Assume for a moment that you were going to get a job outside the home. If that job could be anything you wanted, what would it be?

Ahhh! I would go back to the job that I had before I got Pregs with Birdie. I quit when she was around 10 months old, and quitting was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was a Storyteller for the Prove City Library. I played to large crowds of kids and parents and it ROCKED. Everyday I would literally get applauded for what I did, plus the adoration of kiddos, and the accolades from their parents. They didn't just have us be performers, we were front line implementation of all the newest "Emergent Literacy" stuff. Dude, they
paid me to go and work with teen mothers and their babies helping them to teach their children what they would need to succeed.

When is Dadguy going to post a real post? And will he ever finish finishing the basement?

I cannot answer for Dadguy,
but if you could somehow cause all the servers for World of Warcrack to shut down for a few months, I'm sure you get your posts AND that basement would be finished pronto. As it is the ductwork is done, the plumbing will be finished by next week, and the wiring within a month or so. I hope. Maybe. I hope.

Shelli asks:

What made you quit using?
Read my response to Elizasmom below.

How long have you been clean and sober? (You probably have said this before, but I don't know when or where and I can't remember the answer.)

Eleven years this coming October 8
The name that I gave the voice in my head that tells me how worthless I am is Chatterbox. Do you have a name for yours?
Unfortunately? I don't just have a voice, I have entire Committees. That's what I call them when I think about it, Committees.

Who is your favorite blogger whose name starts with Sh and ends with elli?
Hello!? Shelli, of course!

Elizasmom asks:

One serious one, which is probably predictable in light of the recent religion postings: How did you come to the LDS church? And if it was something you were born into, did you ever make a conscious commitment saying, yep, this is it for me?

I was born and raised in the LDS church, but I took a theological powder around the age of 15. In order to understand what happens next, and next, and next, you should understand that LDS
folks believe that you are entitled to answers from God. Personal Revelation as it were.

You are expected to
seek those answers though. Read, and search, and study it out in your mind and then go to the Lord and ask if a thing is true/right/His will. As a child grows, they are expected to ask. Every person has to find out for themselves if the Church is true. The Book of Mormon. Prophecy. The whole banana.


I never did ask. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to live the standards of the church. Now, anyone who doesn't bother to even ask if the church is true has BUCKETS of fodder for umbrage with the doctrine. It's almost like the Lord has left some grade A pitfalls there, to discourage any but the most sincere seeker. Plus... have you seen the Word of Wisdom (health code)? Pfft! No FUN!

Fast forward about thirteen years, and you find a woman who is seriously considering becoming a professional tattoo artist. I had done custom flash for several folks, had Ink of my own, and many connects in the business. A friend of mine was managing a local reputable shop in Albq., and he wanted a female artist to attract and serve a certain clientele that a man could not... mostly women who wanted tats (say, on a breast or a bikini line), but didn't want to get that personal with a male artist. He offered to take me on as an apprentice and set me up with everything that I would need.

The main thing holding me back was that I was trying to get out of the drug scene. I say "trying" but I had had five years clean in AA before, I knew what it took and I was not doing it... so yeah... trying. My friend assured me that there was a zero tolerance policy in the shop. Turns out, the policy was for only "in the shop," and the first time we met at his house to start my apprenticeship? Meth. Plenty of Meth, and yeah... I got jawjacked too. No one thought anything of it.

On the way home from that experience I was struck with the strongest impression that I should pray and ask Heavenly Father if this was what I really should do. A very alien impression to me at the time, I assure you. The last time I'd had an impression like that, was when I was sitting in the courthouse in downtown Albq, waiting for a Justice of the Peace to perform the ceremony for Mr. Thatguy and I. I had felt that same, intense sensation that I should go to the restroom and pray and ask, but I was pretty sure what the answer would be and I was waaaaay too scared/invested/brainwashed to do what I knew that God wanted me to. Which was to run like hell. Run away from Thatguy, and for the love of MIKE! Don't marry him!

I never did ask.

I very nearly lost my life. I lost very large pieces of my heart.

This time I listened. This time I prayed (once I came down from the Meth), and do you know? I never did get an actual answer about the Tattoo stuff. Huh.

I really cannot just chuck out onto the Internets, the nature of the answer I received, I hold it sacred to my heart. But from the moment I received an answer, I have not done a drug or taken a drink of alcohol. I literally threw my cigarettes out the window and never looked back... but I did keep drinking coffee for the next week. Sigh... I sure loved my coffee.

A little less than a year later I was standing in the glory that is the fall foliage of New Hampshire, a badge proclaiming me a Missionary on my lapel.

Life is good, and now I ask every time.



And on a more lighthearted note:
What is:
Your favorite movie?
Action... fights...kablooey! Big fan of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but then I have probably seen You've Got Mail more times than any other movie in existence.

Favorite book?
I have a book that contains the entire works of Jane Austin. I have read that sucker to pieces in the past eight years.

Favorite item of clothing?
this sweater.

Favorite song?
Joss Stones version of Some Kind of Wonderful

Favorite trip you ever took?
Honeymoon to Disneyland!

Anonymous asks:
Are those your daughters real names or just nicknames for the blog?
Nicknames! But two of the names are names I really had wanted for my girls, but was voted out
of.

the other Anonymous didn't ask anything but she did say:
You have to cut your self some slack-Having three little ones and one on the way can be overwhelming.
Ooop! Not expecting just yet. Unless that is part of my bad mood and...
No. Not pregs, but in active fear-mode.

Daring Young Mom asks:
What is your favorite bad movie?
Earth Girls Are Easy... I just cannot resist the eighties cheesy goodness!

and that is all.

Except I am feeling a little better today... I suspect that it is a transitory thing after all.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Huh?

Sooo.... I really owe Daring Young Mom a post, chronicling my Pickled Pigs Feet, and the lackluster they were "discovered" by Dadguy last Saturday. I dazzled myself with some insights on what we "notice." I'm gonna write it... really...

just not today.

I think that I'm in the place where one has to ask one's self, "Self? Is this wallowing funk that you are slogging through, just a natural product of exterior and changing circumstance... or have you hit that point where a little help might be in order?"

Help. As in more than just some Progesterone Cream and a walk around the block? As in the problem is inside of me. As in drugs.

I'm resisting the urge to run away and join the circus by giving in to a smaller degree, and just running away to the computer... kind of hiding from my kids, the dishes and
reee-spawwn-sihh-biiill-iiiii-teeeee. An ugly urge that turns a compliment that is paid to me as a "woman with great self-esteem who will raise her daughters to be comfortable with themselves," into "a fat chick with a lot of moxie, and a pretty OK mom too." Only my mind even gets hold of the "OK mom" bit and reminds me of how screamingly pissed at my daughters I was just this afternoon, when I discovered that, after explicit order to NOT DO IT AGAIN... they got themselves butt-nekkid and rolled in the freaking mud. In the not-quite-yet sixty degree weather. In the back yard, thankfully, but still! Self-esteem?

I say again, because pulled this same stunt yesterday, and I was pretty furious about it then.

So.... help a muthah out and write my next post for me as I get back on my feet.

The rules of this game are.... ask a question, any question and I will answer it in my next post. I may answer by giving you a parable if the question is too personal and/or gross, so do keep it relatively aboveboard...

GO!


Tuesday, March 06, 2007

How Does It Go?

Two steps forward, shoot me in the head? Can't quite remember.

LaLa, my three year old who KNOWS how to do her business in the toilet... isn't. She has ample opportunity, please trust me when I say that she is doing it on purpose. And then wearing her wet or poopy clothing around until I notice.

Dadguy thinks it has to do with her wanting to be a baby, and I agree. She wants to be carried everywhere again. I mean everywhere. She talks gibberish babytalk and will even occasionally try to take up binking (she never binked as a baby). This comes at the end of a long and dispiriting round of sickness for the entire House of Chaos, and I feel like tossing in the towel. I cannot force her to use the toilet.

When she started with her increased tantrum throwing about six months ago, I started a campaign of holding her and giving her extra rocking/comfort/hugging time when she was being good or even neutral, and it seemed to help with her behavior. Hasn't done much of squat for the potty training setback. Get it? Squat? Oh, never mind.

So I am frustrated and walking around with a litany of "I suck, I suck, I suck..." going on in my head. Plus, honestly? I am angry with my three year old. which... an adult being pissed at a pre-schooler, not a first... but it really doesn't add to your view of yourself as a mature human being.

So yeah... what am I missing? Where am I screwing up? Fell free to weigh in, except for beating her... much as the "idea" sounds appealing right this VERY second? No.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Light

A few days ago I got my wee bloggy feelings tweaked, by what I felt was a hurtful exclusion. Notice that I say felt, not thought. My intellect is absolutely sure that the exclusion was not meant in a hurtful way, and not exactly done in a hurtful way by the excluding party... and while I try to live the motto of my bastardization of a darn good Brigham Young quote:

"She who takes offense, when no offense is intended, is a fool. And she who takes offense when offense is intended... well, she is probably a fool too."

I got my feelings hurt anyway.

Chalk it up to the system de-jack-up-ification process of getting off the Yasmin, leaving me bloated and weepy... and sensitive dang it... but there ya go. Ouch.

I hate getting my feelings hurt. And I really hate getting my feelings hurt when I cannot understand why/what about what just has happened is hurting my feelings. I reference this mess of my personal little owie only as it has bearing on the meat of what I wish to say. I don't want anyone else getting het up about an unfortunate crossover in language and purpose, or the old and rather tired lies of the past that still affect the way some people do, and will always view me. No matter what I do or say, and no matter what I really believe.

Hello, My name is Bon (The Mama) Chaos, and I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I am a Mormon, and this means that I am a believer in Christ, and an adherent to His teachings. I'm talking the whole ball of wax... His divinity, Godhood, literal Resurrection and the Atonement. In my book, this means I am a Christian.

But.

I also believe that God has dealings with his children today, just has he has in antiquity, a.k.a. modern day revelation. Yup, a Prophet of God alive and well today. I believe in the Bible (so far as it has been translated correctly), AND that The Book of Mormon is exactly what it purports itself to be on it's cover: Another Testament of Christ. According to some folks, that makes me "Non-Christian" or "Unorthodox Christian" at best. And at worst, a minion of the very adversary himself.

Unfortunately? There are slew of really awesome Bloggers doing some fun and cool bloggity-stuff out there, with that less than inclusive view of what it means to be Christian. These bloggers speak the same language of spirituality that I do. They speak truth, and try to live their lives in much the same way that LDS women do. They are often humble and smart women... only with a bias.

Now, now... don't get me wrong, there are some very important doctrinal distinctions between LDS and many mainstream "Christian" beliefs, especially the Evangelical set of Christianity. Coincidentally, the set that seems to have the most in common with LDS women, when you look at their lives and standards through the filter of a blog. Take away that filter? Hooo boy. It has gotten ugly in the past.

Basically, I was checking out a blog that was calling for submissions of posts that dealt with the topic of living in a Christian community; specifically the practical nature of service and helping in your community (your Christian Community). I have had this post of my own zipping about in my head for a while, and it was in line with what this blogger was looking for BUT. I noticed that in her side bar, she had been a nominee for a blogging award thingy, that last year was unwittingly the means of a public spanking of a blogger who is LDS, because she was LDS. The whole thing was an unfortunate mess. And while I do not think that just because a blogger was nominated for an award in and amongst the unfortunate hoo-rah of what happened, is cause to assume anything about her specifically... it did put me on my tiptoes. I am not interested in another flogging, especially one that actually involves ME!

So I emailed the blogger and asked if she meant "Christian" or only "Her Kind of Christian As Defined By Her." And in fact, it turns out that she did mean the latter. She was very gracious about it, and never did come right out and SAY... "No" to wanting a post from an LDS, or what she called an "Unorthodox Christian" point of view, but then, she really did say "No."

She then ended her missive with "God bless you for your sensitivity."

Sensitivity. Is it "sensitivity" or just plain old "caution" to check if an iron is hot before rubbing it vigorously on your face?

Now we are gonna switch gears here because the topic of the post that I wanted to write for this woman's collection of posts? Heh. Well, let's just say that something happened a few nights ago that has me thinking down a different track. A broader sort of avenue.

The Groundwork: As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ, if I were to pick up and move to East Texas next week, a place where I do not have any family back-up (not very close anyhoo) and then two weeks after moving in, I were to take wretchedly ill.... say a sort of cancer that I can recover from, but that has me down for a few hard-hitting months... who would take care of my kids while I was incapacitated, and Dadguy was at work? Who would vacuum the floors and scrub those toilets? Who would make the meals? Dadguy is a very capable guy, but that is a deep, deep burden to care for, in addition to a sick and suffering wife.

There is no question in my mind as to "who." In the church the first line of defense is a pair of women who are assigned to watch over you as a sister. They are your "Visiting Teachers," and while they may not get out to visit you every single month and share a spiritual message the way they are supposed to, it is a rare occurrence that they are not right at your door in times of misfortune or need. Then there is the Relief Society, the entire contents of the adult female portion of the congregation... they are kicking in to high gear and doing what it takes, the second you ask, and often long before you are ready to ask.

You, as a Mormon woman are called, along with another gal who is your "companion" to visit a short roster (2-4) of other women in the Ward and so on. Any woman over the age of 18 is part of this. I have been a Visiting Teacher of young single women, older single women, married, widowed, divorced... lots of kids, can't have kids. All.

There is also assigned to each household a companionship of men... they are called Home Teachers. They are also responsible for the families they watch over and visit. In our church we believe that it is awful hard to progress spiritually when you are starving and frightened. We also covenant with the Lord when we are baptised to, among other things, bear one another's burdens.

I am not an expert on all the welfare functions of the LDS church, but the little I do know? is impressive. The Church is ready to, and does ship food, clothing, books, hygiene kits, baby care packages, medicines and cold hard cash as disaster relief. To any one. I have toured Welfare Square and seen the organized LOVE that is there in the form of huge bales of clothing, and warehouses full of food.

I could go on in detail about the myriad of ways that the church is there to be back-up in times of trouble. There in a human one on one level, and on an institutional level: I DO NOT claim that this post is in any way comprehensive or definitive.... but the point I wanted to make, is that lots of you out there are NOT Mormon, and a good chunk of all y'all are not a part of any church. I don't know what it is like to be you. I don't know... how you sleep at night. And I cannot fathom what you would do in a personal disaster. What would you do in a larger disaster... flood, war, etc...

I was kinda thinking that I was... mmm, one up on ya? And in terms of big-guns back up, yeah, I may be, BUT.

I am now thinking that I was thinking in a sort of exclusionary way. Like somehow the way that I live and do things is so different from the way that y'all... the no-church goers do.

A Story: Two nights ago, I called on a woman to come to my aid at 1:30am. She left her warm bed, husband and sleeping children to come running two houses down, through the snow, her pillow clutched to her chest. Y'all, she needed her sleep, and yet she could not rest until she got a call from us that Pearl seemed to be out of the woods and was getting oxygen. The woman I called was a member of my Ward, but she was not one of my Visiting Teachers. One of my VT's in fact, lives two doors down from me on the other side, but it was K that I called. K, because of the bond of love that I have with her. We are friends.

If she wasn't there, I likely would have called one of my VT's... but she was there. She was the person I called when my heart was palpitating and my sleep soggy brains asked "what do we do?"

As human beings we are hardwired to love and help each other. That hard wiring is something that I believe is a gift given to every human being. A certain sort of Light. When it is nurtured it grows and leads a person to do kind and moral things... to seek truth. But I also believe that we can turn our backs to that Light, that we can push it away and in so doing, we become capable of uglier and uglier things with little or no trouble to our hearts. The Light inside becomes dim, and is sometimes extinguished.

I suspect that there is a very special price that will be paid by those who cause that Light to be extinguished in babies and children.

There is a term for this light... we call it the Light of Christ. You may be Buddhist, or Atheist, and that term may piss you off a little, but humor me. I am going somewhere with this. Here's the deal... this Light of Christ, Para-Conscience, or Morals, or Human Spirit or whatever you want to call it? I think YOU have it.

When I was an active drug addict... spending most of my time with other drug addicts, you could still find folks who would give you the shirt off of their backs. They were basically kind to others and tried not to do too bad of things. Granted their Light was compromised by the drugs, and their addictions made many of their decisions for them.... but when they could, most of them tried to do what was right.

Most folks who belong to most religions, or live a conscious and good life in general? Good solid Lights. This Light urges you to do better, to love, to embrace truth. And most folks, if given a half a chance would help you out in a jam. Wouldn't they?

What I am getting at, all Ye who hath slogged your way through this beast of a post, is what is your back-up? Who would be there in a pinch, and what's the plan, Stan? I am interested in posts about Community, and what your part in that community is. What do you do? And what would you do?

Do ya wanna?

Shoot me a link to your post, or just leave a comment that outlines what's what. I don't care... tell me about how your local PTA backs you up, or write something about your way-cool pastor, about your next door neighbor, how you volunteer at the local Red Cross... or just what your plans are.



If I have torqued someones bolts or gotten something way off in this post... feel free to say so... keeping it clean please.

Friday, March 02, 2007

Good Thing I Don't Jrink

I'm working on the Mother-Of-All-Posts, a beast that cannot be safely broken into chunks... but I gotta get that last, creepy post off the top.

The other day I was siting at the table with Birdie and LaLa... I think we were drawing.

Birdie:Drink, drink... drrrrink. How do you spell "drink" mama?

The Mama: Drink? It's spelled d-r-i-n-k.

Birdie:What? Noooo, it's NOT!

The Mama:Yeah, see (grabs stray piece of paper and spells out drink) d-r-i-n-k, drink!

pause

Birdie:Nuh uh! That's NOT how you spell it. DRRRRINK, drink, drink! It starts with "J"!

The Mama:Well, the way that you are pronouncing it, it does sound like it should start with "J", but it really does start with "D". Derrrrink!

Birdie:(gives me the stink eye, leans over and write j-r-i-n-k next to where I have written "drink.")

pause.....

The Mama:Y'know Birdie... your Mama is really, actually a very smart person.

Birdie:Pfft! (rolls eyes) Nuh UHH!

I'm thinking that we will not be going the "homeschooling" route, as stupid as I appear to be in her eyes already... I will be lucky to be able to swallow my own spit by the time she turns fifteen.