Dapoppins

Who Will My Child Be

2012-01-25T12:36:00.000-08:00

I have four kids. Three beautiful, honest, funny, smart, brown eye'd boys. And one adorable, smart, sassy, creative, pink princess. I am very proud of them. I'm so proud that when someone is praising their child (or grandchild) or friend's child, I'm get a little irritated and insulted that they don't simultaneously remember to praise mine. I mean, COME ON PEOPLE! When we go out in public strangers compliment my children. On a rare occasion when we go to a restaurant, the waitress -who knows what mischief four children in a public place can get into- takes a moment to tell me how awesome and well behaved my children are. SO, THEREFORE, OF COURSE and CONSEQUENTLY all peoples should know to praise my praise- worthy offspring. I tell my self when others are praising other kids and forgetting to add mine to the list that THIS does not take anything away from my prodigy. This isn't an insult. That's what I tell SELF. What self answers back isn't fit for family viewing.

(and you are asking yourself if this post has anything to do with the last post...and it does. right here. starting now. )

My youngest son is the most like me emotionally. When he was a baby he was a happy go lucky kid. He was friendly. He was brave. He was HAPPY. Nothing fazed him. I could pass him around at a party and he would just smile. He was right on track for all his developmental markers. Walking, talking, recognition, cognitive: everything.

Then just after he turned two he became, "terrible." But, more accurately, miserable. He was so unhappy with everything, so prone to tantrums and anger, that I asked the doctor if he could be hurting and I didn't know it. Headaches? Migraines? A broken body part I missed? Something must be the cause of this wretchedness.

I quickly noticed that if you handled the tantrum wrong, not only did it get worse, it lasted longer. Assuming that this behavior is a response to environment and stimulus, I took stock of other behavior. What were his triggers, because in the midst of all that crying and throwing things there it was usually a response to something. Where before, I could pass him around the room and share his teddy bear cuteness, now I had to be careful of any kind of unexpected change in routine, including new people, over stimulation, new places, different expectations, and so on.

He was two. Everything was new.

It could have been worse. People struggle with much more difficult situations. With kids who have serious problems, and poor parents at their wits end. And I knew that. I know that. Our issues are mild. My son cried for almost two years straight, with temper tantrums of that have literately left scars on my other children. But he's ten now and all his siblings are still alive. I'm not afraid to leave them alone in the house together either.

But we were/are blessed in three ways.

He can communicate. He feels empathy. And I remembered what it was like.

Who I Was

2012-01-21T11:37:00.000-08:00

Memoir

THE PAST: TESTIFY!

My parents were divorced when I was in second grade. But I remember them being divorced in kindergarten. To the child, and to the adult, it is the memory that causes the hurt. Not the reality. Until I was 10 years old I lived in the same town as two sets of grandparents, an uncle, and my dad & step mother-- literately surrounded by family. I was in the same town as my Dad. I saw him regularly but for some reason, I don't remember him being THERE.

I was a troubled kid. A strange kid. In today's world everything has a name, and I could have been labeled as ADD, or on the Autism/Asperger's spectrum. I was angry, lonely, socially awkward and full of self loathing. My memories of this start in third grade, but my mom could tell you stories about temper tantrums that would make you start looking up diagnosis and wondering how I survived. One might say that the divorce and my Dad's re-marriage just amplified what was already inside of me.

I never did drugs, never got in trouble with the law, or with a principle of the school. I was usually teacher's pet because I longed to please the grown-up's but I had few friends. Usually no more than one at a time. Sometimes none.

I wrote a Gothic play in Jr. High where I kill everyone and then kill myself.

I got an award for it.

Puberty came late for me...it started at fifteen, maybe, but I didn't have a period until I was sixteen. The same summer I moved out of my Mom's home to live with my Dad and stepmother. I was an emotional, dramatic, teenager. Again, no drugs, no alcohol, I never skipped school. The classes I failed, I legitimately failed. I didn't chase boys. But I hated who I was, felt like every hour of everyday I was just a piece of walking junk, wasted breath. I wanted to die, wanted attention, and wanted...something.

My Mom said if I didn't like living with her I could go live with my Dad.

So I did.

Not that I expected this to improve the situation. Not really. It's like making one last stop to say goodby before saying goodby forever. One last shot at hope before giving up on hope. I believed in Hell, and I didn't want to go to hell. But I didn't want to live either. I was close. My family doesn't know, how close, or maybe Mom and Dad just didn't know what to do to make it better...

So I moved back with my Dad and Step mom. --When I had turned ten six years earlier my Mom packed up and took my brother and I to another state, so going back to Dad's meant going back home. Dad and the step Mom even lived in the same house that Dad and my Mom had lived in, that I had lived in.--Again, I didn't think this move would be that much of an improvement. In some ways it was worse. My Mom's not perfect but the problems were never her fault. They were in me, and I took them with me. I knew that then even if I couldn't vocalize it.

Moving back with my Dad returned me to the same neighborhood I had grown up in. Riding on the bus to highs school I met a girl who I had known from first grade. Turn's out we both liked the same music and the same stuff and had a drama class together.

(end part one- Coffee Break)

Header help...

2012-01-18T21:02:00.000-08:00

Is there an easy way to move my header without shrinking the "body" of my blog?

Is your baby the Happiest?

2012-01-18T15:58:00.000-08:00

( if you know an easy way to center my header without shrinking the body of the blog -no more wasted space on the sides- please tell me in the comments!)


Not My Sleeping Baby, but adorable just the same.

There is a website a person can go to to get "certified" in sleep training. I could take that test, and likely pass it, but in reality I suck at getting my kids to bed and having them sleep at night. As babies I mostly fed "on demand," and let them sleep when ever they wanted. None of that waking babies up or feeding only after naps and not before! Gads no.

There are actually lots of books on getting your little nippers to sleep though the night. Incedintly, for an infant to sleep through the night only means four or five consecutive hours. Something I don't think first time Mommies and Daddies really know. Shhhh. Don't tell them. Let them be surprized. Let them be surpized that a full night's sleep is rarer than pink elephants or pigs with wings, and that in actuallity, normal sleep patterns for adluts don't ever again occur!

WHY do you think grandparents get up at five and go to bed eight? They are making up for lost sleep.

So I was talking with some mom's about those times baby and toddler would wake up at 4:30 or 5 A.M. What did Momma do? Baby should not have been hungry, wasn't sick or poopy. Did Mom get baby up? Since this is common behavior, there are books out there that anticipate the problem and offer answers. As a Mom who likes to sleep I didn't need no silly book to tell me what to do.

What do you do when your child or children wakes up at some God-awful early hour?

The crib is a safe place. A baby proof place. If it's not, Mom and Dad are doing something wrong. So, asuming that the crib is a safe place, then this Mom let baby cry. And cry. Until I was good and ready to get my fat flat bottom outta bed. Or until other brothers and sisters do it for me. Or Dad does. Or the house catches on fire.

Again asuming crib is safe, and baby isn't sick, poopy, or starving to death. They do go through times where they are hungry all the time. Which is where the co-sleeping comes in. I heard doctors are saying not to do that again. Well piffle. That's right. Piffle. If you have a healthy baby and aren't on sleeping pills and feel that you have a safe situation, then you go right ahead and co-sleep.

We did. Well. I did. I made my husband sleep on the couch because the bed wasn't big enough for three.

All my kids survived.

But this must be why I'm kickin a 10 year old and an eight year old out of my bed every now and then.

So, what is your solution for the early riser?

Twenty-twelve

2012-01-16T13:59:00.000-08:00

So, it looks like many of my commenters have gone off and found their witty repartee, exercises in creativity, and daily whine from more consistent bloggers. The only readers left might be those who drop by in silence, just to check up on me. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

I don't know how good of a blogger I can be in the future, however, after more than 500 posts, (and I know their are bloggers who do that in three months,) I'm not ready to shut'er'down. For awhile I fantasized about putting Dapoppins on my own personal card, so that when I'm snapping phone photos of things at the local re-sale and vintage shops I could tell them to come visit me. I dreamed of making this a place where discussion can take place and people can be challenged. I envisioned the humorous telling of a temporary Nanny's secrets, because DaPoppins is a nanny name...But... I always worry, what if someone "not-nice" or "really-judgmental," found me, or if--- telling a secret could get me in trouble. I know, you gotta take the good with the bad, but it's still a shadow in the back of my mind.

I've always had ideas of not being to overtly JESUS, or in-your-face CHRISTIANITY ROCKS and here is today's scripture by the way. I wanted my religion and my relationship to take part in my blog, but not to take over my blog.

But now most of my visitors are off visiting more prolific waters, and I have this empty space here.

Hummm.

We Three Kings

2011-12-15T06:30:00.000-08:00

(THIS is the Christmas re-post I was looking for! And Yes, there are plenty of M&M's scattered around the house for Christmas 2011)

I love the solemn thoughts of this season, remembering blessings and sharing blessings.

But sometimes I get a little silly. I just can't help myself.

It all started with M&M Guy lights....

They were a gift. Not something I would have chosen to represent the Christmas season, but cute. And the kiddies of the house LOVED them, ensuring an obsession with them for years to come.

And then, what tree would be complete without a Christmas train?

Before I knew it, we were singing this:

(too the tune of We Three Kings)

We three stinks of Oregon are

brewing gifts as we travel through bars

field and fountain, over big mountains

we hope we don't crash the car.

With big heads and bigger hearts

we walk slow because we're ole' farts

Sing forever of seasoned leather

bring us some Christmas tarts.

Santa is comming to town!

2011-12-13T07:50:00.000-08:00

A re-post of a couple of years ago, because I must post soemthing Christmas here....!

We went to my dad's home for dinner on Saturday where we were feasted with bacon-wrapped-date hors'd'vore and perfectly cooked lamb with mint jelly. Georgeann is a fantastic cook but I wasn't sure the kids would eat lamb, so I just called it chicken. My daughter had four servings of "chicken."

Their home was fully decorated and very orderly, and filled with Santas. There were so many Santas that they could be considered a Santa collection. So I took pictures of all the cute things. They were everywhere! I have to admit, I was thinking of Collectin Texas Gal as I snapped the shots.

I even almost sat on Santa, too.

I hope I don't get on the naughty list!

Christmas links

2011-12-12T13:00:00.000-08:00

(Since these links still work, and my daughter was asking for Carol of the Chins...here's a re-post)

If you haven't gotten enough Christmas songs, here is a fun link to visit:

Carol of the Chins

And here is a sweet little interactive Christmas Card, if you have the time:

Merry Christmas

And I love this crazy Christmas Target Lady. I know its all about the shopping bargains, but can you imagine what shed be like on Christmas morning? So what if she is a little intense, ya gotta love the effort she puts into everything.

2011-12-04T20:20:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get the feeling when people hear your name they just kinda shake their head and say with a sad murmur, "Yes, I know her.."

Impacted Emotion

2011-10-23T10:04:00.000-07:00

( waving back at you all! Thanks! And, oddly, things blogs did just reappear in my reader)

I've had an emotional week. Month. Almost year.

Not as emotional as it could have been. Thank You. I am so very blessed you see. But emotional enough to remind me that not only do I NOT like Change. I also do not like a lot of the pesky feelings that come along with change.

I was not always like this. OH NO. Nooooo.

I used to revel in my feelings, delight in my deep joys as much as my deep hurts, and express them all as freely as any tired two year old denied a cookie. These things inside of me that cut with such perfect beauty, the color and pain that made me wild, overwhelming my youth and young adult years, were not only apart of me-- it was my right and my freedom to express my feelings whenever and however I wished.

That is I had very little emotional self control and I didn't care.

Then came children. So much of that emotional passion suddenly turned to sour. There was no room for it anymore. No time. And, frankly, it was dangerous to my family.

Sometime around when my second child was born, (20 months after my first,) I started taking Zoloft. Just a little. A nurse told me once, that "I would get the same amount of affect from the drug if I rubbed it on my arm that I did from the amount I'm ingesting..." That is, she thought it couldn't be working because I was taking so little. But the medication worked great, until my third child. So I upped the dose. And then when the insurance coverage switched, I started taking Prozac. I took a daily Prozac until my fourth child was about three, and the drug started to have side affects that interrupted my life.

And gained the emotional self control necessary for raising kids. I gained some clarity. Maybe I even gained some maturity. I learned I don't need my temper tantrums.

But, I also lost the ability to easily feel and easily recover from deep emotion. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to hold all that boiling feeling,- what to do with it, where to put it in the middle of a conversation. And how does one have a decent adult conversation while feeling all that welling eruption of inner-crud?

Gah. In relationships, somethings are only solved by digging though the crap in our souls. Digging though the impacted emotion.

At twelve, I was way too free to suffer any kind of impacted anything.

At twelve, I didn't have half the issues I had today to deal with, and I thought life was so so HARD.

What is your way of dealing with emotion?

Where Did They Go

2011-10-06T06:30:00.000-07:00

I opened my blog reader.
Most of my the hundred or so blogs listed there are suddenly gone. Just um, gone.

So, if your a friend who's blog I visit too, make it easy on me and leave a comment.

An UN-birthday To Remember

2011-10-05T11:09:00.000-07:00

When you are silly enough to follow the rabbit, there is always a possibility that you might fall down the rabbit hole and into a bit of wonderfulness. Or is that Wonderland?

Our dear family, (my sister-in-law Patty and my niece Sara, the most hilarious mother and daughter team I have ever met!) Planned and prepared the most colorful, creative, fun filled UN-Birthday party for my entire family. We walked in expecting fun and food.

What we got was an ADVENTURE down the Rabbit hole. Complete with amazing homemade decorations, games and a competition to win sweet and fun prizes. I had to ride a cow and capture the most Momeraths...my daughter soundly bested me at the cow riding, but I did quite well on the Momeraths.

We didn't know where to turn. There was love, blessing, and spectacular UN-ness everywhere. Hanging on the ceiling, covering the floor, lining the walls. We were in a place of laughter and wonder. Although this half of the family- my husbands brother's bunch: three kids - one now married and stationed in Japan, one daughter living and working in another state, and Sara living at home and working hard- this half of the family only live about an hour away, we hardly seem to see them more than once or twice a year. BUT when we do...!!! I am always left speechless.

Our hostesses...Sara wanted me to remind everyone that since this was an UN day, her clothes were UN-matching.

This is us. I think we pulled off the UN pretty well to.

We had so much fun. We were so blessed. We ATE so much SUGAR. (we are still eating treats from the party!)

And I was really blown-away by the hidden talent. Patty said that she brought Sara a small picture from Alice and Wonderland and asked, "Could you make this bigger?" And so Sara did. By hand. When Patty saw the "quality to be had," she just kept giving Sara pictures to draw and paint, until there was a house full of characters from the story.

When I walked in the front door and saw Wonderland. You know what I said, right?

Yeah. "I am so going to blog this!"

Crushing Disappointment In Rose Colored Rainbows

2011-09-24T16:16:00.000-07:00

We had hoped to go to the Portland Zoo. I was so thrilled when we pulled into the parking on a sunny afternoon and found parking places close to the gate. Parking places near the gate are always cause for celebration. Why, it was a minor miracle. The heavens had opened up and God Himself decided it was time to bless Dapoppin's with a primo parking place. However, when we parked, I discovered to my dismay (and oh the crushing disappointment) that the zoo had already changed to fall hours and was closed. Closed!!!

So, we went to the Portland Rose Test Gardens.

Pimples and Zits

2011-08-29T14:48:00.000-07:00

I know I am not the only mother out there who has this problem.

This acne thing that comes out of nowhere. Just one year ago the skin was smooth and supple. A perfect completion.

And then everything changes.

My son is 13. And with the arm pit smell, and the changing voice, came a few pimples and black heads.

It is driving me crazy. CRAZY I tell you!

I am not the only mother of a teen who constantly has to stop herself from squeezing those little greasy suckers! I just can't be! It's gotten so bad that I can't see my boys beautiful face without my fingers twitching.

"Son, go take care of that pimple on your nose, be for I do!"

It's not that he has a bad pimple problem yet, it's that he mostly doesn't notice or care, and they just get bulbous, protruding and stare me in eye I saying, "Sneeze Me!"

Is this need to squeeze my poor pre-teen son's face the same need I had to squidge his cute little baby/toddler/kindergartner muffin butt?

No. It's much worse. His face is at eye leval. And those pimples are just taunting me.

I lecture him about taking a shower. Flossing his teeth everyday. Using deodorant everyday. And now, the face cleanser I bought him. Everyday.

I need to get some of those packing bubble pop things to use as therapy.

Okay, you can admit it now. I am not the only mother like this, am I?

Summer

2011-08-24T14:23:00.000-07:00

My college summer session is over.

On my summer break now, just in time for the warm weather.

You may be thinking, what? Warm weather?

It's been a cool summer, just until these last few days. Typical. Summer starts midway in August and ends the first week of October.

Hope you are all doing well. Miss you...

Blogger getting more coplicated by the day!

2011-07-21T11:09:00.000-07:00

Do I complain about blogger alot? Why is it doing this to me? It's a free service I've grown to love, even need. But this morning when I wanted to share with you how I did on my first college essay, I couldn't even find the link in My Account to get to my blog! If this keeps up, I am going to write an angry letter!

My day, my week, my month.

2011-07-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

I tried public transportation, and I liked it.

I didn't like that I had to take three busses to go one place.

I didn't like that it took four times as long than my own car would to get to my destination.

I didn't like that I couldn't pull up to a drive through, or find a bathroom, or stop at any note worthy garage sales I saw.

But, I might've saved some gas, I was independent and did it on my own, I made it to my stop on time, and I experienced Bus Etiquette.

photo by Will Glessner

In the late morning, on a Monday summer day, I had to get to a class which was eighteen miles away from my home. I have a student card winch lets me get a discount and used the trip planner to find my destination. It was a muggy day, with a grey sky that threatened either rain, a burst of cold, sunshine, or all three at any moment. I felt nervous and out of place, anxiety pooling in my feet because of the new adventure and the English homework I have due.

The first bus was three minutes late. (insert crazy OCD music here during that three minute block and questions like, Did I do it wrong? Is this going to screw up with the whole trip plan? Am I going to have to walk back home and get the car?)

There was a mix of people on the bus: Older people, students, car-less folks, mom's with babies and toddlers. I had a great time watching this tiny little seventeen month old sitting in her mom's lap, smiling and so adorable and happy with her little bushy top knot, and the older gentleman grandpa across the isle, just watching and smiling too. I wished I could have take a picture that would have framed them all.

A teen-twenty something couple got on at the next stop. The guy was counting out change for both of them and realized he was short. No less then two bus riders watching got up and offered him change without him asking.

Then, as we continued, I noticed how at every stop, people were saying please and thank you to the driver. She'd stop the bus for people to get off and they would shout, "Thanks, Have A Good Day!" as they jumped to down the steps to the curb.

I tell you. This is not the urban life I'd been led to expect!

Photo by Steven Lane

When I got off to change buses I made sure that I added my own, "Thanks," as it seemed appropriate. On the next bus I needed help. I showed the driver my trip plan. She mused about the route numbers out loud. Two bus riders chimed in to offer friendly suggestions.

When the last passenger was loaded and paying her fair, several people shouted out, "Miss, miss, is that your phone?" In fact, everybody looking out the window on the right side of the bus was pointing to the phone left on the bus station seat.

Strangers all. On the bus for ten minutes, thirty minutes or only five to the next stop. They were kind to each other.

Riding the bus totally made my day. My week. My Month.

2011-07-12T09:57:00.000-07:00

The blog may look the same on the outside, but on the inside things have gone all white gray and orange and moved to regions and places unknown. I CANT FIND ANYTHING.

What the heck? Have I been gone that long? Blogger WHAT DID YOU DO? WHY did you do this? Stop acting like Face Book and changing things that don't need to be changed!!!!!

Not Quite Mary Poppins

2011-06-15T22:50:00.000-07:00

I've said before, that back in my twenties, I was a real nanny. I even went to school at a real nanny school. And that I was applying again to the nanny temp agency, which the school also runs. When I first applied, I was told that I needed more recent experience with kids.

Huh?

My own kids don't count as experience. Can I actually be trusted with other peoples kids?

Well, I no longer look like a sleek, clothes-mad, big haired Nanny. And I do tend to wear the same outfit over and over, have a few frazzled hairs, a growing mole or five, and stress lines about my face from raising, and homeschooling my own kids...

Anyway, since February, I have been acquiring more experience and now have the references to prove it. But there's been some upheaval at the agency, (a long awaited overdue grand-baby) and I haven't had my final interview yet.

I did take a course to prepare me for a "Newborn Care Specialist" Certificate. Which I'll get, and then I can add some letters after my name. I might also go for my "Sleep Trainer" Certificate. Yep. They have nannies that people PAY real MONEY to train parents and children how to sleep.

I need a little refresher or two to feel comfortable calling myself certified. After all, I can only remember the name of two butt rashes, and a handful of common infant and toddler illnesses.

And, I'm also on a waiting list to take Certified Nursing Assistant Certificate Program. I think that a CNA is more practical than and Early Childhood Education Certificate when on the hunt for a job.

I've been so busy lately. And I don't quite like busy. There's never time for doing nothing, when your busy. And doing nothing is quite my favorite thing.

But, I am feeling a push to get out of my comfort zone, to go back to school, go back to work, to do something outside my home. It's part practical, and part Spritual. Yes, I've discussed the matter with my Life Coach. You know, Jesus.

I've been gone a lot from the kids, but their Dad is here to take up the slack, and he is so very good with them. He is a teacher at heart, even if it isn't in a classroom. In fact, his favorite thing, if you can imagine, is to teach and spend time with his kids. So, if he can't find that great job over the rainbow with the pot full of family benefits, maybe I can.

Makin' a cake of myself

2011-06-05T03:23:00.000-07:00

(please note blogger issues on this post, where the hooey is my cursor? There's no blip to tell me where my words or photos are going to appear!)

My son, (let's call him--) Keegan turned eleven in the month of May. Along with a massive and hilariously impossible gift list, posted near the the main exit of our home where I would be sure to see it every day, the boy requested two cakes for his birthday. An original from scratch cake, and a back-up box-cake.

The last time I made from scratch, the cake came out like rubber and heavy on the rubber- flour-side. But to please the boy who was not going to get most of the items on his much longed for wish list, I made two cakes. I only took pictures of one, (should have done both) and now I can't find the exact recipe I used.

Typical.

Here are the pictures anyway.

Butter, white sugar, maybe some eggs?

with the milk added, it beat up well, but looked curdled. The butter wasn't blending, I think.

The batter was tasty. I had it smeared all down my front to prove I had not only mixed it, but also made sure it was edible. A little like melted vanilla ice cream. It didn't have that weird taste that cake mixes have.

It cooked up nice, but didn't rise up and get fluffy. There was only baking soda added, I think. Or was it baking powder?

The edges curled inward, and looked hard and crispy. That's not something I recommend you say about cake. "Yummm, Hard and Crispy MOM!"

This is the homemade cake, in the pan with lumpy homemade caramel frosting. I should have sifted the powdered sugar. But I set the bag on a hot burner and a mess ensued. Yes. I said "ensued." I didn't spell it right, but I can totally say it. In the corner next to it is the box cake mix. I might admit to adding something to that creation too. Maybe.

Keegan said it was pound cake. It was heavy and thick, but moist. Surprise surprise but cake testers said the frosting was too sweet. I actually liked the frosting. I love caramel, and I didn't burn it, over cook it, or under stir it. It might have been very slightly grainy, but who cares, ITS CARAMEL!

Perfect or not, both cakes did get eaten.

And that's whats matter, right?

Good Mail

2011-05-31T09:53:00.000-07:00

For whatever reason, when I was a little girl I craved attention.

If nothing else, it has left me with a deep empathy for other sad children, craving the same.

I remember one school I attended, where a big deal was made over a student who had moved to another school. Letters were written. A letter was received and read to the class. I must have been in 2nd or third grade, I think. (We moved a couple of times that year.)

When we moved, no letter was sent to me, but I tried to send one back. I even collected can-pull-tabs to send back for the class project.

I never heard anything.

As an adult I know that my own letter probably never reached the school or the teacher. It is very unlikely that I had the correct address, or even the correct spelling for such a letter, even if I put it in the mail with a real stamp. When I told my husband years later about my broken heart, how forgotten and invisible the lack of a response made my child's heart feel, I cried for at least an hour. (---While he held me. And this has actually become one of my favorite memories now.)

So, it's a huge deal to me as an adult not to allow a child to be forgotten.

Some friends of ours were fostering a little girl who they were hoping to adopt as their forever daughter, but as sometimes happens, this little girl went back to live with her natural mom. While she was here, being the same age as my own daughter, we got to know her. Spend time with her.

I don't know when or if we will see her again. But it doesn't matter.

I hope she won't feel forgotten.

I saw the sun

2011-05-02T23:13:00.000-07:00

Now that we have more than two days in a row of sunshine, I'm ready to declare "Spring is Here!"

We even ventured outside for a walk at a near-by park.

I found these beautiful art-photos of flowers and spring inspiration at Alicia Brok Photography. I don't have the skill or the camera for photos like this, but I can buy them here!

Easter was a beautiful day and a great celebration. My brother and his girlfriend came over, plus another friend, and her son and mother. I had invited about 10 more people, and had 200 candy filled eggs to hide on a rather rainy day. But it ended up only being my kids and one cute bunny-toddler boy.

My kids didn't seem very upset about having extra eggs to find.

Inviting People

2011-04-21T09:54:00.000-07:00

(this post is likely to have lots of spelling typing errors...but I just want to post right now in case I don't have time later.)

My greater family, (parents, aunts, uncles) never established a strong Easter Tradition. I'm still struggling to do that, create lasting memories for my kids, enrich their lives with our Spiritual and Biblical Beliefs, and make landmark moments they can look back on as adults. I'm not very good at it. At least, I don't feel like I'm very good at it.

I invited people over for dinner after church on Sunday. Hordes of people. Having guests, sharing blessings, on Easter is important to me. I feel a little lost if there is no big meal and no big gathering.

But I am not a great hostess. I'm not organized, and I have the bad habit of trying something new: a new recipe, a new decorating idea, on the guests. Sometimes it fails...badly...like the cheesy ~~steamed~~ cauliflower mush I tired to make. Or the caramel frosting for the cake that tasted fine, but hard and grainy.

It's Thursday, and I have my simple menu and desserts all planed out...and I just caught my self Googleing something NEW and interesting to add to the menu.

And I still have to clean, clean, clean the house.

Lord help me.

Facebook and Relationships.

2011-04-14T09:45:00.000-07:00

I'm on facebook. You should friend me. I think my blog has a linky for Da Poppins around here someplace.

I have a lot of friends on facebook. Not hundreds. But more than in my day to day real life.

Today's discussion: "Is having old boyfriends on facebook as "friends" okay?"

I have two male facebook friends that don't thrill my husband. Not that he isn't my friend too, but I have two he would rather never see or hear about.

Old boyfriends.

Let me just say that our marriage has a rule. We don't have deep, personal male (or female) relationships outside of our marriage. When I go hang out with friends, there are no guys in the group. There have never been any guys in the group. [Unless it's another married couple and I'm just there eating their dinner and not feeding my own kids.] And to make it clear, there will never be guys in my play date group. Not only would they totally cramp our conversations on weight loss, bra size, constipation, consternation, kids, and the best- way-to-clean-up-a puddle-of-vomit-off-a-carpet, it would just be unacceptable behavior on my part and it won't happen.

I do have one friend who is a single father. And he is gay. I've known him since high school. I could do a whole post about him. But we only talk on the phone, and really not that often unless he is calling me for advise on how to pry his kid's face off the t.v. video game thing. (shutting off the electricity works wonders...they wander around in the dark, partially blinded, bumping into things like pin balls for at least an hour. It's really fun to watch!) I also whine a bit now and then to him, for fear he might think I am perfect. However dependable he is, I don't depend on him. He's not my husband.

Anyway...back to the face book thing.

Have you friended any of your old flames? How does your significant other feel about it?

The thing is, I don't hate those old flames. I was curious and hopeful that they were doing well in life. I like seeing the status updates pop up now and then. I like seeing pictures of their kids. I don't often comment, or write on walls, and when I do it's very casual and very cryptic. But is it also stretching a boundary?

I've watched a lot of FRIENDS show re-runs, in which Ross and Rachel remain "friends" after a break-up. Teasing, good-natured name calling, and canned laughter takes place in a lot of these episodes, but none of the truth of the pain and dysfunction that remain after an intimate relationship has ended. I don't think those NY apartment relationships are anything like real life. I find myself telling young people.... me, speaking in weak, spidery voice, "Young'ens, this aint no Friends episode, and you ain't Ross and Rachel!"

Do you think I've crossed a lineving any contact at all with past (male) relationships on facebook?

The After Egypt: Anyone know what is happening over there?

2011-04-08T05:58:00.000-07:00

Sara is a young blogger who lives in Egypt.

I should have linked to her long ago, I don't know why I never got it done.

She was there during the protests, fiercely patriotic.

Her writing is sometimes very insightful, always personal and honest, and often very poetic. She found me first, and stops by to say hello now and then. It gave me so much pleasure to know someone from far away Egypt would laugh at my silliness, or share my trials.

She recently posted on a conversation she had at work HERE which I think holds so much information on what what is happening in the After Egypt, so much information Americans don't know, or understand. She posted during some of the protests that she didn't think she was doing enough to help her country. I told her she was giving me a real world view that I wasn't really getting anywhere else.

I think her story will make a powerful book here in the States someday.

Go visit her, (say Hi from me!) and come back and tell me what you think.

2011-04-04T12:30:00.000-07:00

I'm in the process of organizing some of those old papers and photos that I inherited as the elders of my family passed on. Some of it is very shabby, fly specked, and worn. But if I can find meaning in it, I save it. You might have noticed that some of my old photos in the last post were labled. Memembers of my Grandmother D's family, on her side, were very careful to write names and relationships down when they knew them. My grandmother had an uncle, especially, who wrote the name on every photo he ever owned. And he owned a lot.

The family history is all jumbled in my head. Some day I am going to just make a history map and leave it in easy reach like a phone directory so I can figure out who's who.

Maybe I'll get started today! It's spring break, and the preassure of school is off! It's like a breath of fresh air.

Wet, muddy, swampy, gray air, but fresh! Our Spring is turning out to be one of the wettest in history...and last year was pretty darn wet!

I need some color!

umbrella 2 by Dapoppins featuring vintage umbrellas

too much?

How about blue...it's not like I've seen many clear sky's lately...

I see Alice by Dapoppins featuring hair bow accessories

spring 1 by Dapoppins on Polyvore.com

spring hilda by Dapoppins featuring hair clips accessories

Now I feel a little better. I hope you have lots of color today too!

2011-04-03T00:52:00.000-07:00

Without someone to care, to keep track, history just fades away...becomes less then memory. There are no stories spoken over long winter nights, no hopes harbored for spring, and the future is raw and wandering. Without history, how can a person feel solid, feel real? We are not animals, who forget the smells of the previous generations, but humans, who shape our futures out of the materials of our past...

Professor Johnston often said that if you didn't know history, you didn't know anything. You were a leaf that didn't know it was part of a tree. ~Michael Crichton, Timeline

If you want to understand today, you have to search yesterday. ~Pearl Buck

History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days. ~Winston Churchill

Thank you, grandma...for keeping the photos of my history, for leaving clues to my past.

The Hustle and the Bustle...

2011-03-27T13:11:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't it be fun to watch someone do the hustle while wearing a bustle? It could be a whole new viral you-tube craze!

Seems like March has been full of hustle and bustle- not the kind you wear, but the kind you do.

I miss my blog pals. Miss the crafts and the spring photos, and the funny grand kids, adorable pets, and all the family happenings. I've been scrolling though the posts in my reader. There isn't a way to comment on posts within Google reader that I don't know about, is there? But I don't seem to have time to load everything I want to and leave an appropriately cheeky comment.

My kids are in online school with Washington Virtual Academy (or Connections Academy) and they have an actual quota to fulfill each day. 5 hours, 6 classes for the older two. All we do is school. And we thought this was the easy route. I don't know about that, but it's sure the route with the most accountability to the state. Sheesh. It seems the whole program is more about the Course Completed Percentages than it is about the lessons learned and retained...it is a kind of public school, after all, so I shouldn't be surprised. The teacher (who we have weekly contact with or else the world will end and the kids will fail!----sarcastic much, Mrs. Dapoppins?) has been sending emails hinting at registering for next year. If you count, "You must register for next year NOW!" in the subject line as a gentle hint.
I don't know what we are going to do. Actually. No clue. So there you can just wait till June when I know for sure.

I'm only writing half the story here. So if your lost now, that is okay. So am I.

Therefore: kids are on the computer everyday doing school. Which means I'm not.

Where have I been?

Lost under three weeks of stinky laundry?

That's as good as answer as any.

I still haven't gone back to the Nanny gig, in case you ask. I have my excuses for not making it happen. One of which is a bunch of little jobs came in that have kept me busy. A friend needed a sitter...a lady from church with 5 kids, 3 still at home, needed a sitter. An older couple needed a house cleaner. Little "cash-in-hand" type things where I could bless others and still get a quarter a tank of gas. (The high gas prices must be because there are two oil men in the White House, right? Oh wait. There isn't. It must be because the Big Oil companies are drilling in American lands, waters and charging high prices, right? Oops, not them either. Huh. What could it be?) I can't figure out if I am just making excuses or if I have reasonable reasons for not making a commitment to an employer. Or trying to do something different.

I feel like we are waiting. I am waiting.

I have no college education.

My husband has 2 years community college, 2 years of bible college, 4 years college with a degree, plus several extra credits of college courses. He should be able to get a decent job that has family benefits.

There is a lot of mileage between what should happen and what is happening...

I wish someone handed out degrees for whining... I am good in that. I could totally get a job as a professional whiner.

Invasion of Brain-Sucking Aliens: DEBUNKED

2011-03-10T17:57:00.000-08:00

I went on a hunt for better answers than aliens after my last post and found a website posting with the title "Hair Loss Linked to Tooth Infection." It came out me out of the blue, something strange that I've never heard of, but something also entirely possible. In December I had an appointment for a routine check-up (covered by temporary insurance.) They were very busy that day, managed to take the x-rays, sending me back three times, and finally sitting me down for the assessment part. After speaking in weird dentist language for 20 minutes and poking at my teeth they said something about a grey area on the film being an infection and stent me on my way.

I had another dental appointment last Friday (new dentist) and he sent me home with a prescription (the first place should have done that,) and I am hoping that there is a link and the re-growth of my long luscious hair will prove it.

Although I am fairly sure it's not aliens who are sneaking into my home and pulling out my hair, I'm leaving my traps out until I can be positive.

Hairy Thoughts Regarding Alien Invasion

2011-03-01T19:40:00.000-08:00

I've always had thick hair. Thick in number, and thick in texture. Big hair comes easy to me. The 80's were great. The smooth, controlled styles of the new millennium not-so-much but I bought a flat iron and a new lease on life.

And then I was abducted by aliens who started doing experiments on me.

That could be the only reason for the changes happening on my head. Aliens who come in the night, in the middle of that deep hour I get of sleep between 3 A.M and 4, before I wake up again at 5, 6, and 8, and after the tossing and turning to get comfortable of 12, 11...well you get the picture. Nasty aliens are sneaking up on me messing with this woman's most beloved asset. ( I love my hair more than I love complaining about my lack of a back-side, if you can believe it. If you can't there are links here to prove it.)

I am disgusted with the whole matter and have set up traps to catch them. A new stack of books next to the bed, ready to topple at the slightest nudge. A cup last nights coffee perched on the edge of the nightstand, just waiting for a sickly green alien elbow. A pair of my husbands shoes left for tripping over and falling into the T.V. antenna arrangement -that when it falls is loud enough to wake people in Seattle... Oh yeah. I am ready for the alien buggers (or maybe I just need to pick up the bed room.)

I talked to a lady who does my hair. She said it could be stress, vitamin deficiency, lack of vitamin absorption, or diet. She said she wasn't really certain.

She didn't mention aliens cause she didn't want to scare me. But everyone knows that aliens emit harmful radiation, which not only bring on early menopause, but also make your hair fall out and I told her so.

In the last few months I have noticed my hair has a different texture. Several strands, all of the ones not shocked white in child birth, are noticeably thinner and finer. But most frightening are the dime size patches that are suddenly missing.

Missing!

As if pulled out by hair dissolving- brain sucking aliens!

Aliens from Mar's wear green and pack attitude!

If it's not aliens, what could it be? Any ideas? Any ideas for better alien traps? (I am sending my husband to the store for a harm-free pest catcher!)

I swear, if those aliens attack again, I am posting the pictures as proof. My husband runs from me when I ask him to look at my patchy head, and the kids look both shocked at queasy at the sight of skin where there should be long luscious locks of dark (with white roots) hair. Any actual of pictures posted here will be for scientific study only and, not general public viewing, or those with weak stomach's and a involuntary wincing beware...

Grandma's Story Time

2011-02-28T10:15:00.000-08:00

This is the actual mother of a fellow blogger. ( As opposed to a fake mother, cause that would be wrong.)

Join us for story time as she reads from a choice book-of-the-month selection. Please stay until the very end, because the "happy" ending is the best part.

The Chruch Lady and other sleep aids

2011-02-06T02:44:00.000-08:00

2 A.M. Can't sleep.

I watched Saturday Night Live tonight. Not my usual pleasure. I was totally confused when the show opened with a "Wayne's World" skit complete Wayne and Garth and headbanger mullets. I pinched myself for fear I was having some sort of trauma flashback. I honestly blinked and thought, "Woah, is this a rerun from the 90's? Is the current Saturday Night Live that bad they have to pull reruns from the 90's?" But then Mike Myers and Dana Carvey started talking about the current Oscar Nominations, which freaked out my tired brain even more. I'm still not sure it really happened.

Dana Carvey as guest host later did the Chruch Lady, who I always thought was just the right mix of truth and absurd.

Church Lady had choice words to say about several of t.v.'s current show line ups, mostly shows I've never seen but are always splashed across the gossip magazines. As a point of fact, I kinda agreed with that old Church Lady Ha! What does that make me?

Justin Bieber made an appearance. I don't know much about the boy. He's a young cutie who still sings like his voice hasn't changed. If I was 13 I'd adore him. But I'm not 13, and the most remarkable thing I notice about him is that his momma probably doesn't have to remind him to wash his hair every time he takes a shower. I guess he has a "wholesome," image. Is he truly a clean-cut, well adjusted teen or is he just waiting until he turns 18 to become John Mayer? -- who is another singer I don't listen to, but always seems to be on magazine covers because of who he is currently sleeping with.

I wish I was sleeping. Deep lovely sleep nestled next to my gently snoring husband.

I've tried natural melatonin, and over the counter stuff. Dosen't work. The doctor gave me some stuff when I was transitioning off of mood-medication, and that didn't work either.

What works is the sun coming up. Then I am tired, then I could sleep for hours and hardly wake up.

I know. A friend and I were chatting about daily devotions and bible reading. The Bible always makes her sleepy! I'll go try that! A dose of Palms will put me right out, and even the Church Lady cant complain about that.

----note to readers: I read through this 3 times and found mistakes each time! I bet there are still several more, but I'm posting anyway.

My Own Valentine

2011-01-30T07:59:00.000-08:00

There's a lot of storage in our entry way closet, I have all the Christmas stuff stashed in there and several plastic boxes filled with memories of days gone by.
I've inherited the memories from both sides of the family, held on to anything remotely interesting or sentimental. I have tons of cabinet card photos taken of people who I can only dimly link to my family, as well as photos of friends and loved one's whose stories are lost to time.

Lost memories someone else might throw away. These Valentines were tucked in a card board jewelry box with several pre-world war 2 post card pictures.

The "full figured" lady at the top is my favorite. The little girl in the middle looks like Lil' Orphan Annie, and the one at the bottom has moving parts. They are addressed to my grandmother on the back- she must have saved them from her childhood.

I'm going through some of the papers, letters,and photos in the boxes from the closet. I need a better way to store them, a better way to enjoy them.

Boxes and boxes of paper memories.

Now kids give Hannah Montana and Pokemon Valentines which seem naked and useless unless there is a piece of candy taped to them. The candy part is more important than who the card is from.

Will kids someday be sending digital valentines?
In a paper-less future, what kind of memories will we love most? Can you imagine a paper-less future?

this weeks to-do

2011-01-29T16:39:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of accountability and everything here is how I am progressing on this weeks projects:

1. ~~Start Purpose Driven Life Bible Study (note: get book)~~
2. ~~Complete Resume~~, cover letter, and ~~reference list~~ and send copies to the Nanny Agency.
3. ~~Think about beautiful stuf~~f (but don't buy any beautiful stuff)
4. ~~Read Chapter One of A Classic Novel.~~
5. ~~Pick a Classic Novel to Read~~.
6. 3 ~~Make phone calls to at least people I haven't talked to in 3weeks~~. called 2 people, talked for hours
7. ~~Put away boxes in my living room~~. and took out 2 plastic containers
8. ~~Start one craft/memory project~~ . going to send valentines to unsuspecting folks
9. Do something fun with the kids. I did play a game, but it didn't feel like enough....
10. ~~Pray out loud.~~
11. Do all the above while NOT wearing sweat pants. I'm wearing them now
11.Turn the music up. Didn't get a chance

A Classic Novel for 2011

2011-01-23T16:34:00.000-08:00

Download for free here

(Elizabeth Gaskell is also the author of Wives & Daughters)

I've chosen my classic novel, and I'm ready to read the first chapter.

I've already seen the movie.

I was browsing blogs when I came across another bloggers love affair with the story. A period drama? A handsome, brooding hero? An earnest, strong willed young lady who wears a corset? Oh yeah. Sign me up. Put it on my "must see list" right now.

The movie happens to be available for viewing on Netflix. It's a period piece, if you didn't guess already.

If you don't remember, my movie viewing tastes run the gamut. I like big budget no-plot-lots-of-special effects-popcorn movies. I like girly romantic comedy. I like foreign flicks. I like scary monster and supernatural thrillers. I like all kinds of stuff.

Except anything made in the 70's and romances where the hero/heroine dies at the end. No unresolvable tearjerkers or real life tragedies. I hate a movie that leaves me feeling sad and heavy.

My reading tastes are more restricted. I don't read a lot of straight contemporary or emotion driven style stories about anything. No family sagas. Well, maybe a family saga, if one is a King, and the other the forgotten bastard son, or if one is the forgotten son and the other is the witch who doesn't know she is a witch. Or something along those lines. What kind of stuff do you like to read?

North and South isn't a book I would pick up without a recommendation. And I don't know if I would be interested if I hadn't seen the movie.

The young girl above, moves with her parents to an the industrial North of England. She comes from an idyllic middle class life, but her father has resigned his position as a rector for "conscientious reasons," and taken a teaching position , which is a step down not only in income but in status. The home they move into, while not a shack, is not as refined and comfortable as the pastoral setting from their previous life.

A cotton mill is practically on our heroine's front doorstep.

The girl is friendly to everyone, cotton mill owner and cotton mill workers alike. When the workers decide to go on strike, conflict arises.

Are you in the mood to stretch your horizons? Do you want to read along with me? Or Not.

And I have a confession to make. Not changing clothes after church into the loose, lazy sweat pants I live and sleep in was hard.

It's almost five o'clock now. Is it close enough to bed time to get comfortable?

To Do List

2011-01-21T23:04:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it's good to make the weekly to-do list public for accountability and stuff. Havin' someone look over your shoulder might help the job get done. So I'm writing it out is like a public declaration. Picture me, your very own Dapoppins saying to the world: I will not wear sweat pants even one time next week!

I hear silence across the internet.

Doubt.

Oh ye of little faith. You don't think I can do it, do you? You don't think I can go a whole week without wearing sweat pants?

You are right to doubt.

But I am going to do this crazy thing.

So that is a to-not-do for next week. Because I've gotten lazy (very) and it is time to put the jeans on. Even if they are a bit more snug than they should be. Real pants will be a reminder to eat more celery and less candy.

But for my To Do list-

1. Start Pourpose Driven Life Bible Study (note: get book) 2. Complete Resume, cover letter, and reference list and send copies to the Nanny Agency. I know I'm as good as ABC's Nanny Jo! 3. Think about beautiful stuff (but don't buy any beautiful stuff) 4. Read Chapter One of A Classic Novel. 5. Pick a Classic Novel to Read. 6. Make phone calls to at least 3 people I haven't talked to in 3weeks. 7. Put away boxes in my living room. 8. Start one craft/memory project . 9. Do something fun with the kids. 10. Pray out loud. 11.Turn the music up.

It's not much of a list. I know.

Hope your not disappointed by my lack of moutian climbing asperations.

You'll notice I didn't put things like "keep the laundry under control, washed and put away" or "keep all my clutter danger zones comepleatly clear of clutter for an entire week," because those things feel way to hard right now.

It's baby steps for me.

It's one bite at a time, not the whole cupcake at once. Oh, wait. I'm wearing pants that are too snug now and cutting down on the sugar...let me rephrase. It's one bite at a time, not the whole salad at once.

I'd also like a new blog background, and to change out my header. And I'd like to do some critiques for my writing group and submit something, or start work on something worth submitting and I'd like to win the next lottery while we're at it...

Oops. Forgot. Baby steps.

This will help remind me.

Guess what? I'm taking baby steps. (cause I gotta get those cute baby muffins...I'm still an addict, what can I say?)

Jane Was A Nanny Too.

2011-01-19T18:26:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite all time romance stories is Jane Eyre. The first time I read the book, I had to skip over the dark, sad orphan parts. The unjust treatment of that passionate little girl struck an uncomfortable mis-chord in me.

I generally avoid reading first person stories. I've picked up lots of highly recommended books, started the first sentence, and put the book right back where I found it because of that first person sentence.

When I read first person, it gets into my head a little like a diary. I start to think in the same sort of rhythm as the book. If the writer spends a lot of time thinking, (whining) about self motivation and feelings, then I spend the day thinking (whining) about my motivations and feelings.

Despite the first person perspective, I still love Jane.

It's also one of my favorite movies.

I'm not sure Hollywood (or the BBC) has yet captured the correct Rochester/Jane combination yet, but that doesn't keeping me from watching the movies made in the past years over and over.

I actually like this story more than any of Jane Austin's stories.

(GASP) Not that I don't love Jane Austin - and all the subsequent movies based on her books.

It's just that Jane was a nanny.

And I was a nanny.

There will be a new Jane Eyre movie in March. With two new stars in the Rochester and Jane rolls.

Will they get it right this time?

I also read somewhere that the screen writer messed with the original story time-line in an effort to get all of Jane's story told in a movie-like way.

I'm not sure I approve.

I have a whole section of classic novels to read on my 2011 to-do list. I feel like there are so many great books that I have missed out on, despite that I consider myself a reader.

Do you have any classic literature favorites?

2011

2011-01-10T17:06:00.000-08:00

My about me is popping up in readers all over bloggy land. And you are thinking, "Huh?. Why an About Me for a post?" (Well, I didn't know it would pop up actually, since I post dated it and tried to hide it and just linked to it on the side bar. )

But the About Me is on my to-do list for 2011. My list of things I want to accomplish and not procrastinate away. My goal chart. Do you have one of those for 2011 yet? Another blogger, did a 40 by 40 list (forty thing to do by 40 years old, but I am way past 40 and didn't want to dwell on all the stuff I haven't done yet) and I was trying to be simple and easy and---cautious.

Okay. I will admit it. Looking over our financial situation I had to omit that three weak trip to Italy I have always wanted to take as well as that tummy tuck I had not the back burner...(insert wild sarcastic laugh, AS IF) So, while trying to fall asleep last night at 3 a.m. I started working on my list.

It's better than counting sheep, or dust-bunnies.

So, cross one thing off the list...but I'm not really satisfied with it. I'm not sure I like my About Me. It's not really funny at all. Yeah, the information is all there, but it's dull, dull, dull.

I might change it to "About the Author" like one of those panels that tell you hardly anything on the back of a book. If I like the book I always read that little blurb thinking I will gain some deep insight into the author, like how many pets he/she owns, where they live so I can stalk them, and when the next darn book in the series is going to come out! I usually get the pet question answered...but nothing else.

Yet I keep reading the "About the Author."

Do you have an About Me?

Do you have any goals for 2011?

If so, are you going to post a list?

2011-01-01T15:30:00.000-08:00

Collaged boxes...

Can you pick the boxes out from the newspapers they are sitting on?

I just collaged the lids of these wooden cigar boxes. I made them as stuff-boxes for the kids of my best-girl friend. Told the kids I expected the boxes to be treasured for the rest of their lives. I want a picture of them holding their box at their college graduation as proof.

The boxes were filled with snacks. "Kids, don't throw the box away when you finish all your snacks. Mmmmm'kay?"

I made a girly box with left-over party decorations to hold a birthday scrap album for an eight- year old girl...

Now my daughter wants to make her own next.

But I just got the mess I made from these boxes cleaned up!

Do you ever make gifts to give away? Do you hold your breath waiting for the recipients reaction?

Movie Maddness

2010-12-29T10:25:00.000-08:00

We have the one video a month- all you can watch on-line- Netflix package.

It's great low cost package. The kids seem to have just enough T.V. to keep them from going insane. There aren't always things available to watch that they want to watch, its a cycle of new, old, and very old and weird, like you find at the Canned Food Discount Store. You've got your trade mark Disney and your off-brand Disney-ish, for example.

Not that the boys are going for the Disney shows. They are usually more about Myth Busters and Man VS Food, and after I forced them, two seasons of CAKE Boss.

But Neflix is like Facebook or other mind-numbing-black-holes-of time.

More for me than the kids. I can say, "Kids, turn off the t.v. now."

It's harder for me to say that to myself. Did you know that Netflix has all 8 seasons of MONK? Netflix has Bones episodes, and Pushing Daisy's and sometimes old movies I even enjoy.

And lots of foreign films. I was always under the impression that foreign language films made you smarter. If a movie comes with subtitles, you must read it, and therefore you are learning something. Plus you have to read it faster. And while you a reading you are hearing a different language and if you do it enough you might even pick up some words.

Netflix has foreign language films from countries I have didn't know existed.

Am I the only one who feels this complusion to watch these? It's like walking into a store packed with foods from other countires, like Japan, or Russia or Mexico. Strnagely packaged things, with happy enticing words scrawlled across them. It could be candied frog eggs, but it looks so interesting, so different, so new. It would make me a better person to try them, right? Expand my horizons. Step out of my comfort zone.

Step out of my comfort zone alright. I feel like I need to take out my eyeballs and sterilize them and then run the visual memory part of my brain through a press a few thousand times to get the gunk out. I don't know if I will be a better person...but GAH...

I think the only movies I have tried have all been candied frogs eggs and none of them agree with my stomache.

Have you wasted anytime on Netfilx trying new things?

Found any thing good?

Coffee before conversation

2010-12-27T10:03:00.000-08:00

Chirstmas morning the kids and the husband were all awake before I was, and already downstairs in the kitchen.

I woke up grumpy. Feeling left out. Feeling selfish and angry that they had not only started Christmas without me, but they weren't doing it right.

How dare they!

Then I got my coffee and sat down for a reality check as I looked over at those four happy, eager, faces and my husbands pained and patient one.

(If I had set up the Nativity this would have happened, I know it!,) Suddenly a beam of morning dawn cut through the glass of the widow and landed on the sweet face of the baby Jesus nestled in his plastic bed of hay. That smile was just for me, I'm sure. Warmth filled me as the true meaning of Christmas showered down like precious rain drops of holiday love. And I said with cheer ringing in my voice, "Who wants to open the first gift of Christmas?"

Or maybe my coffee just kicked in.

Who is to say what really happened?

Mom, since you asked...

2010-12-15T15:23:00.000-08:00

So, I wrote part of the Christmas Program this year.

I volunteered to help in November, and our Children's Pastor was more than happy to pass the whole thing to me. As if I might know what the heck I am doing. So I in-turn called my girl-pal up (who happened to have the whole thing passed to her last year) for some help.

She is directing a cute Nativity thing for the younger kids and I am doing most of the 2nd half with some older kids, and that is the part I wrote. Plus, I have a little bit part in the thing. Plus, two of my kids have been recruited to help me. (I did ask for other volunteers, and got three others to help with speaking parts, just so you know that I wasn't intending to take on so much responsibility.)

Worrying about the whole production, coming this Sunday, has kept me pretty busy this month.

We also had some family time and made a few Christmas decorations together last week. Sometimes, I am overwhelmed when I try do do a project with everyone at once...but this when off pretty well.

Paper decorations can only hold a boys interest for so long. So, before I was really ready for them to be finished, ( I was envisioning loads of paper balls to hang in a garland,) younger son went off to build a Christmas Decoration more to his style.

The Lego Christmas tree and Street Light went on the tree. I tried to put the balls on a swatch...but ended up with this center piece on the dining room table. It works. Sorta.

Coffee Traditions

2010-12-07T19:45:00.000-08:00

Starbucks salted caramel hot chocolate...

This was my favorite last year. I've never had real "salted caramels" but it just sounded so wonderful, so interesting, that I hunted all over town for them after trying this. I did find a box, for four large caramel squares. but at around fifteen dollars for the box, i didn't indulge. So once or twice while present shopping, to indulged in a hot chocolate.

This year...

Starbucks (new this year) Caramel Brulée Latte. I have only had one...but I like it just as much.

My friend likes...

the Peppermint Mocha....

But I'm not fond of mixing a mint flavor with chocolate, I think it takes away from the wonderful silky smoothness of the chocolate, and I don't particularly like it in my coffee either.

What do you sip on while shopping?

Winter Blahs

2010-11-30T09:34:00.001-08:00

I must be a summer person.

Since I was in Jr. High, I was sure I was a winter person. I love layers, I love sweaters, I liked crisp days standing in the barn currying the horse and watching our breath puff out, even horseback riding in the frost. I loved early nights and late mornings, (except when I had to wait for the school bus in the complete dark on an unlighted street.) I loved the smells and quiet of winter. The food of winter. The holidays of winter.

But as an adult, I have been in an almost impossible funk since September, since the first kiss of winter rain, and the first shiver of cold.

I noticed it last year, and the year before too. Although I can't stand heat on my face, even warmth of any kind makes me feel like I can't breathe…the opposite, the cold, rainy, grey and gloom, sends me into a near zombie coma. Without light bursting through my window to tell me it's day, without a touch of sun to energize my solar batteries, I tend to stumble through the day, never completely waking up.

Vitamin B helps. Music helps.

But everyday I have to claw my way through sleep, claw my way through the day, and force a positive outlook onto my face.

Lots of days I don't want to do it. Don't want to bother.

Add to all of this my fears, disappointments, frustrations, sense of being overwhelmed, self doubt, anxieties, useless emotions weigh that me down like boulders on a grave.

I have to make a conscious choice to embrace my faith, to embrace hope where I feel like there is none, to embrace my family…

And I haven't been doing that.

It is much harder to be full of sunshine and rainbows when there are no sunshine and rainbows!

Do you get gloomy with the bad weather? What do you do about it?

December

2010-11-27T15:29:00.000-08:00

Chirstmas gift suggestions:

to your enemy, forgiveness.

to an opponent, tolerance.

to a friend , your heat

to a customer, service.

to all charity.

to every child, a good example.

to yourself, respect"

~Oren Arnold

My kids are ready for Christmas. Their dad is practicing Luke 2:1-20 with them so they can recite it for us. They have been listening to Christmas music since two days before Thanksgiving, and now they want me to go find the Cinnamon Bear so that they can begin listening to it each night before bead. (That's a Christmas radio program my Dad listened to as a kid and shared with my kids. They LOVE it.)

It seems like many of the blogs I read embrace the holidays starting in September for Holloween, and continuion with decorating, baking, craft making, idea sharing, family loving all the way through Valentine's day.

My Christmas decorations are still in the closet. Are yours? Do you have Santa's on your mantle? Your elves strategically placed?

Would it add to my "I love to celebrate Christmas," If I told you I have already made and shared a couple of pans of home-made fudge?

That's right, my fake tree may still be squished in the closet, but I have already been into the Christmas chocolate.

Random Act of Culture

2010-11-09T13:21:00.000-08:00

I wish I had been there. Just watching it makes me want to burst in to tears for some reason.

Cell Phone 911

2010-10-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

My cell phone is being prissy, so I had to call costumer service.

I felt like I was talking to a 911 Operator. "Be calm now miss, we are doing everything we can to help you with your phone. Don't worry. We will get this working for you again. This must be awful for you, but your taking it very well. Take a deep breath, we are going to do a hard start. Lets go slowly. We will fix your phone no matter what, you have nothing to be afraid of."

The "hard start" didn't work, so we had to try that three times.

"It's all right ma'ma. Everything is going to be fine. Your phone should respond to this procedure. But since it does not seem to be, I think there must be a software malfunction..."

I kept listening for ambulance sirens at the very least. The operator was so well trained for this horrid crisis, he even talked me into getting the "extended insurance" in case next time my phone breaks and its my fault.

Is that like getting the "good room" at the hospital?

Trick or Treat

2010-10-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

The weather in my neighborhood is becoming more spooky by the day. As the sun sets, fall leaves swirl and scratch in a mysterious wind, hinting at things unseen.

The laughter of children echos down the street with a desperate edge to each bark of humor that chills my bones, and I can't help but shiver when it comes to a sudden, inexplicable stop.
Moody thoughts occupy me...so I search my blog-reader for posts of brightness...

Until a Tour of the Past catches my eye. A museum visit, crammed with history and whispers.

Paige's Virtual Museum Tour

Lady Paige takes us along on her visit to this most interesting museum which explores the culture of death.

Don't worry, she is kind enough to hold your hand during the spooky parts.

The above link leads to her labels archive, and is not in order. I have arranged them below for your viewing pleasure. If you do take this tour, be sure ~~not to giggle~~, to let Paige you know I told you to stop by. (The last part of the tour isn't until Thursday)

Day ONE Are you ready?

Day TWO Let's begin here...

Day THREE Here we go again!

Books I Read

2010-10-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Dapoppins's Magical Fantasy world!

Okay, not really, but that being the type of world I like to retreat to, I thought I'd share a bit about this lovely book series called the Parasol Protectorate. I picked it up on whim, drawn to the cover because of recent steam punk trends in scrap booking products. (Which I've been noticing for a while actually.)

Steampunk Debutante

Lindsey of Two Crazy Crafters made this from some scrapbook products and I just keep going back to it, inspired to try to create something as interesting and detailed. This is the top of paper mache suitcase bought at Hoby Loby. Didn't she make it look vintage and unique?

Do you know what steam-punk is? Google it and look at all the interesting images, a cool mix of brass and clock works, steam powered machinery and Victorian elegance and manners.

I don't know if steam punk is a genre, or an art trend, but it has been around for a bit, inspired by very creative people and a few Asian Animation Movie's (amine.) Women in steam-punk fiction often wear corsets, have cool goggles, fly in dirigibles, and kick bad guy butt, among many other types of things. I love Victorian fashion. I love cool gadgets. I love evil getting its "what for". (This information is just off the top of my head. I didn't wikipedia it,but you might find more information if you like.)

Author Gail Carriger has blended an English steam punk setting, a lot of Victorian fashion, hunky werewolf alpha males, fashion conscious vampires, tea and treacle, tons of humor, arch wit and romance in a series of books started in 2009.
I am really enjoying this series. I read the first book in 24 hours, am half-way through the second, and waiting to pick up the third at the library.

However there are many consequences in reading these books besides staying up late and getting nothing done during the day. One might suddenly find oneself longing to take afternoon tea with a distinguished vampire wearing a chartreuse day jacket, paisley waistcoat, and elegant well tied cravat. One might find oneself speaking with round vowels and using words like "utterly absurd" and "appalling behavior" or "delightful" and "lovely."

There are lots of complimentary reviews for this book, one review said it was "campy fun," (not a direct quote) because of its tongue and cheek view of the romance theme with the addition of a deadly parasol and Jane Austin-esq quips. But I found this series in the Science Fiction Fantasy section of the library, and I am sure that is where you can find it at book stores and libraries too.

steam punk hat source

Books are for Adults. I would consider them Rated R for violence and adult relationships.

Do You Boo Two

2010-10-18T07:31:00.000-07:00

I haven't accomplished much lately.But I wanted to post something from the whimsical side of this time of year, before it was time for turkeys and thoughts on thankfulness.

I managed to make a card with some of the fantastic images from Magic Moonlight and Graphic Fairy.

I am a "pantser" I don't follow templates, just pull out stuff and grab the glue. This means, 90% of the time I don't like the outcome. But the other 10% it's magic.

The kitty has too much glitter, instead of just a light dusting. And I don't like the "off-center" aspect of the other image, even if I did it that way on purpose.

Yes, and I ended it all with a splat. I know.

When you craft do you work with a template, or design plan, or even a general idea of how things will look at the end? Do you plan? Do you lay out all your materials before you start?

Maybe paper crafting isn't your idea of creativity.

There is always this:

Political Persuasions

2010-10-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

Just got my voters pamphlet in the mail. Seems this year the party lines are all over the place, with new groups like, "blue dog," and "rhino" I'm wondering if I'm voting for a new zoo exhibit. Fellow blogger, the often outspoken Millie, posted this and I thought you all might find it helpful.

(There is even more detail over at her blog, since it went into deep explanation on world groups, you might want to check it out!)

During this election season, a simple way to understand the differences:

DEMOCRATIC: You have two cows. Your neighbor has none. You feel guilty for being successful. Barbra Streisand sings for you.

REPUBLICAN: You have two cows. Your neighbor has none. So?

SOCIALIST: You have two cows. The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor. You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST: You have two cows. The government seizes both and provides you with milk. You wait in line for hours to get it. It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE: You have two cows. You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE: You have two cows. Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pour the milk down the drain.

Do you Boo?

2010-10-13T08:33:00.000-07:00

Do you celebrate Halloween as a holiday? The last church we attended did not celebrate or practice Halloween, and encouraged their members to follow suit. I don't mean that my religion doesn't practice Halloween, or my Faith doesn't practice, I mean my church, as a doctrine didn't celebrate the pagan holiday of Halloween, not even the cute, whimsical, fun, candy-part of Halloween.

Have you attended a church like this? Do you celebrate/not celebrate? What do you think of folks who shun Halloween?

If you don't have an opinion on that, maybe you have an answer to this:

Why do the vintage Halloween cards have an accent between the E's?

Two Hands By Jars Of Clay

2010-10-12T22:44:00.000-07:00

"I am so tired of being a house divided," she whispered.

"Then stop trying to live in two places at once." He said.

Breakfast with Grandma

2010-10-09T14:32:00.000-07:00

While my mom was here visiting (and getting attacked by birds) we went to breakfast with Mom's Friend Jo, leaving the kids and my husband at home. We had shopping plans, a weird city to visit, and so on.

The IHOP was hopping.

On a Friday morning, we had to wait to be seated. In the past, I have only been to the International House of Pancakes on a weekend, where it was so busy we vowed never to return. However, the lure of the Fresh and Fruity Rootie Tootie is just to great to resist for us ladies on this day.

We had a great waiter. Great waiter. And I really wanted to practice my future Grandmotherly outspokenness on him. I've talked about the kind of Grandma I want to be when I grow up, and even if I have twenty or so years to wait for it, there are some days when I feel the need to practice. Being as I was seated at a table with two confirmed Grandma's I thought maybe today was perfect.

There was a group of teens (or post-teens with teen sensibilities) behind us holding some sort of raucous conference. One of them started to snort and hee-haw, and oh yeah. I turned around and said in my clear, very audible speaking voice, "Excuse me, did you just snort?" Which caused more hee-haws to emerge. (This child must have the most embarrassing laugh ever!) And then I said something about "A little less noise, please."

I can't imagine why the little group paid their bill and left a mere five minutes later.

So back to the waiter. He was tall, tan, and blond and...well his parts filled his clothes in the best young man way possible. And I so wanted to tease him and see what it would take to make him blush. I kept thinking, (you'll will be proud of me,) That I don't want to disrespect my husband in front of Mom and Mom's Friend even if Husband isn't present to see it. If I flat out told the boy waiter he was very cute, and asked him to mow my lawn, My mom might mistake that for issues in my marriage. I couldn't figure out how to be an outspoken old woman without looking like I was a flirtatious cougar.

A different waitress came along while ours was on break and brought some coffee refills. She asked us who our sever was and I pipped up with, "The surfer dude."

"Oh, she said, you mean Barbie Boy."

We laughed. "Yes, him."

When we came back to the table I said, "She called you Barbie!"

"Oh yeah. They all do. I get Barbie, Ken Doll, Surfer Dude, even Johnny Depp all the time. Personally I don't see it at all."

"Are you form California? You look like a surfer..."

"Nope. Never been out of the state. Never surfed at all. People ask me that all the time."

I bet they did, and do. He was really so adorable, I could have just pinched his butt. But that brings me back to that ~~slutty~~ flirtatious cougar town thing, and I can't/won't go there. Courtney Cox on ABC I am not.

And I am not tempted to go back again to IHOP at all. No, I am not.

Grandmas and Laptops.

2010-10-04T09:29:00.000-07:00

(this photo not original to me)

My mom got her laptop before I got my little (old, used and not really mine) notebook. I won't say that I'm jealous that grandma has portable internet access and the ability to pound out a novel or a finance spreadsheet while sipping coffee and listening to high-brow jazz at any Starbucks of her choosing. It doesn't bother me a bit, cause I know she's worked hard all her life and deserves the perks. Totally.

Laptops are cool because they are portable. Because they can do more than some iphone thing, or ipad thing, yadda yadda yadda. But mostly for me it is that they are portable.

I don't think my mom knows this. I keep telling her, but she still dosen't seem to understand. "Did you bring your laptop?" I ask.

"Why would I? It dosent work when I'm not home."

Hear that thumping? That was me, banging my head against a wall.

So, since my Mom, (the Mom-stalker to you, cause she stalks me on facebook and blogger and hardly ever comments) didn't bring her laptop with her on vacation, she won't be seeing these pictures of our outing to the zoo and the attack of the hungry lorakeets until she gets back to her home.

Mom (and Mom's friend) took us to the zoo on Friday. They paid $$, I drove the taxi. We piled out of the van like jelly beans plopping out of the jar, all seven of us (add four kids, pulled out of school for the event, to the mix). Since individual tickets to the zoo are lots of $$ and we are currently negative $$---Mom paid. And paid. Because, really, a year long pass for all of us is a much better deal. (Thanks again Mom, you don't know how much you just blessed us!) And then she paid for lunch later too. Parents who worked hard all their lives are rather nice to have around, even if they won't ~~give me~~ bring their laptops on vacation.

Portland is suppose to be the Weird City

2010-10-03T08:56:00.000-07:00

My mom is in town visiting the area with a friend named "Mom's Friend". -Isn't that the best name ever? --oh, yes, come on. Tell me how creative I am!-

Yesterday I got the privileged of driving these two ladies all over town for some eclectic experiences. Wouldn't you know it, we missed all those "weird Portland" adventures by about 10 minutes while trying to find a better parking place.

I told my mom, she could go into Portland by taking public transportation...they could park their car and take the Maxx train.

---me? I don't take public transportation, I have a list of reason's if you want to see. I keep excuses handy for situations like this, but I have no issues with offering public transportation to my dear mother, who is not only a strong and independent woman but also more opened minded about such things than I am--

but it turns out, mom isn't as independent as I thought when she has a devoted daughter to drive her around all day.

It was a rather nice day yesterday, at least. And some of the leaves are 'just' turning colors.

At some point someone (not me) brought up the topic of Astral Projection. Do you know what that is? The idea that some people can project their spirits to other places? I said, I know I don't do that, because my dreams are too weird. And Mom's friend said, well, "Maybe you really are then, and thats why your dreams are weird!"

Well I had another weird dream this morning. I was working (not floating over, just my luck, they would put me to work) a non-tax (duty-free) World Chocolate Shop. Oh my lordy. A shop where they sell tax free chocolate. It was a sweet little place, cozy and rustic rather than modern. Wood floors, old stained wood shelves, lined with pretty paper covered bars of hundreds and hundreds of different kinds of chocolate from every place in the world.
I was working at the back sink. Washing dishes and stuff, cause, I guess they use some of the chocolate to make chocolate stuff, like baked goodies or truffles, and such. The owner of the store screeched at me and said, "You call that clean?" And I looked at what was in my hands. The little black lid to my favorite portable coffee cup. Nope, not clean. There were calcium stains and water spots, and that stuff in the corner was coffee build up from five years of not-very-well-washed-use, and I kept scrubbing and scrubbing, because, at the end of the day, it was worth it to get some chocolate.

And the above confirms why I know I don't have out of body experiences. Because my dreams are so odd, and yet, they always make a sort of twisted sense.

I just had to post that!

In other News. There is an AX hanging over my head as we speak. Brought to you by, ---not-enough employment-for-the-last-year---. We got a green letter in the mail, which might as well been have well been pink or yellow or electric red with DANGER stamped all over it who ever heard of an Official Notice being green.
Letter arrived on Friday, when I could do nothing about it, not even find out how closely the AX was hanging to our neck.
It could be a paper work mix up. A paper AX of imminent Horror and Desperation easily dispelled, or it could be the real deal. I don't know. I can do nothing and I hate that. HATE IT! However...if you read my blog, you know that on this Journey God has givin us there are rest stops, and they always pop up just as we run out of gas. I am thinking there will be a rest stop with some water for parched souls around the corner --and I just want to let you know so that when I start shouting Hallelujahs and Glory! you can rejoice with me--

And after that...I am going to post some pictures of my mom covered in lorakeets.

Slightly Busy

2010-09-28T15:30:00.000-07:00

Pretty spoons.

Cute cupcakes.

Interesting child and box.

I can't buy...but I can take pictures.

"What have you been up to, Dapoppins?"

I tend to pour out inspiration into one thing at a time. If I am working on a scrapbook thing, if I am working on a fiction writing thing, or if I am working on a chatty bloggy thing...it is only one focus at a time. Mid-August I was hit with a fiction writing thing that bowled me over and made life difficult. I had to write, something, just to see that I could.

So that is where my efforts have been directed, in between the part time earning thing, and the mom thing and the other things that make life fun.

Next, the focus is going to be getting the house organized enough to have the rugs cleaned, and working on some scrap projects.

Might post some photos. Or not.

Links to Super Booty

2010-09-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

I've a long documented history of "rear-end" issues. If you see a group of women chatting, chances are, at least one of them will bring up a body complaint, since turning 30 mine has been all about the backside. ---Not that all the rest of me is perfect, I can give you a detailed rated list of worst to best if you like--
People from different backgrounds and cultures find different things amusing, however, in my house, Butts are always hilarious.

Here is a list of links regarding the back of me.

What's Your Super Power?

The Swarm VS. The Buttless Wonder

My Behind Looks Like My Front in Jeans

Love at First Sight: When I saw Booty Pop

Unexpected Treasure

A Good Foundation

Type This

2010-09-09T12:18:00.000-07:00

Saw this interesting old thing at the Goodwill yesterday. It was $25 dollars. It's one of those things that would be cool to have, but that I don't need and have no where to put... Another time I was there, a month or so ago, there were two, 2, old sewing machines, the foot pedal kind attached to old wood tables. I love those too, but it's a "look-at" type thing, not a useful thing. Even Winnie-ther-Pooh's gift to Eeyore on his birthday was a USEFUL thing.

Do you have things that you like that are big, and old, and not very useful? How much would you spend to buy a piece of days-gone-by?

Thank My Aching Feet It's Friday

2010-08-27T05:04:00.000-07:00

It has been a kinda crazy week.

My kids are in Bible day camp and having a super blast. I hear way more about the outdoor water battles, what they ate for lunch, and who got to go in the pool, than I do about the Bible part, so I don't know if I should be worried or not. You all who are not of my faith might feel relieved that the church's endeavor to indoctrinate children into the Christian Faith is totally being wiped out by the likes of a swim slide and mini pizzas.

I am helping out at the camp a bit this year too.

For about ten minutes every morning this last week I was a cross between Baba Waba, Rossanne Rosannadanna, and Howard Cosell during the short skit that sets up the days theme. Next to me, in her fine safari gear, is my long time friend Sally Sportscaster. She gets to hold a straight face while i swoosh my big hair in her eyes.

All the 8 year olds in the audience keep looking at us funny. Maybe it's because not a one of them (including many of the volunteer leaders) had never heard any thing of these famous news and sports people of the 70's. But that can't be it. They don't seem to know what a "straight man" is either. Maybe it is the frosted blue eyeshadow, which Sally and I think is horrid, but the kids see as normal. It is so in vogue to buy your make-up at the dollar store, and while shopping there, I noticed they had my brand, so it can't be all cheep and old, can it?

I love to dress up and be ridiculous for the kiddies. Last year, when I played a pirate, three little girls even asked for my signature. So, you know, I'm famous and you should tell people you know me.

After the skit, I would tame my hair and go off to work.

Yes, that's right. Work. As in a job.

Okay. Not full time. Not real with benefits. Kind of more informal and by the hour for a small local company where I get paid only for the work I do. Which is entering data from questionnaires into the excel program. Yes I know they have whole computer programs that do that...just kind of set up, scan and go...but I am getting paid to enter the data page by page, so shhhh, don't tell them.

It's a mixed blessing.

1. It will be a little pay check at the beginning of next month.

2. The office is right next to Starbucks where I have spent most of my small paycheck on coffee.

Hey, can I help it if the Watering Stop I am provided on the desert highway happens to be next to Starbucks?

Comment Love

2010-08-25T17:35:00.000-07:00

So.

I went through my reader and organized. Some folks got deleted. Pretty sure I'm gonna need to delete some more, too.

There I said it.

I really deleted some blogs and un-followed. I've noticed that there are people who pay attention to how many followers they have and kind of take it personally when someone just vanishes in thin air.

They wonder," Is my blog not good enough? Is it something I said?"

No and No. I have never un-followed because I was insulted by a post. Or even bored by a post. As far as I can remember. Well, maybe I did, once, but it was a long time ago, so long that I don't remember and therefore it can't be held against me.

But I do un-follow or I have just stop visiting the blog if I don't ever get return visits from that blogger.

Just color me totally selfish. I blog for comments and feedback. Maybe that's not why you blog, and I'm fine with that. I'm not tellin no one how to run their blog, what to post, what not to post, or how and when to comment. This is just how I roll and I will not feel guilty about it.

I got enough to feel guilty about.

Have you ever------ gone into your nice air conditioned bedroom when the rest of the house was a steamy 90degrees and shut the door and not shared a squdge of space on the bed or anywhere with the kids because they would steam it up with their hot kid breath and hot kids hands and feet and hot kid squirmy-ness, and hid in-side the nice dark air conditioned bedroom, watched grown up movies, or blogged on the work lap top that is really for work and not for blogging while drinking a perfectly icy diet coke and eating cheddar cheese and sour cream flavored potato chips that you didn't want to share with the hot kids because they would eat them all and get bits everywhere...

Never?

Huh. Neither have I...

So, I was looking at my comments compared to the # of blogs I follow. I follow(ed) about 80 ( some are stores or store/craft related blogs and I really don't expect a comment back) and now I got it down to 63 subscriptions. And what is my average for comments per post? About 9ish comments per blog. (I checked that average scientifically by actually looking at some of my posts and the comments numbers and picking a number out of the air. I could like at a "stat counter" but the last time I changed my template I messed it up again and nothing has been right since. ) If I break it down that is about 25 blogs that I regularly comment on and with a return comment of 9... How can I get better numbers?

So, my questions of the day are:

How can I have a blog lots of people will read and comment on?

How can I have a blog I can make money with?

Shoot. Don't send me to go read a link on some blogger's how to have a great blog...they will say consistent posting, one overall theme, and more ridiculous stuff that are never going to happen on this blog.

How do you get lots of comments with a minimal amount of computer time. That's what I want to know.

I can't tell if people love me if they don't comment.

Yes. Mother. I am talking to you. AND everyone else.

How did you get to 20 comments and how do you stay there?

Rockin the Back to School Supplies

2010-08-10T20:21:00.000-07:00

Not a lot of clever blog ideas coming out of La Dapoppins Homestead. So I now get this clever little email with a few "prompts" to get me started. Here I was thinking I could write a story about anything. Toss me a toaster and I can craft a charming tale of how it was used to end world hunger. Sure, it may not be believable or readable, but I could give you a beginning, middle and end. But I haven't had alot of deep blog thoughts lately.

Unless it is why mannequins, made specifically to model clothing in stores that sell clothing never actually fit the clothing they model.

This deep question is really bugging me.

If you look behind a manikin, a full figure, or just a headless torso, you always see some pinning and pulling to make the clothing, from underwear, t-shirts, to dresses and jackets, fit smooth and tight from the front. They pin the clothing to make it look good.

Oh. Well that is the obvious answer, but why do they need to pin it in the first place. I mean, those clothing industry head honchos hire "waking hangers" to wear their clothes down the cat walk, why don't they make manikins to fit the clothes they sell?

Is there no truth in advertising?

And here is yours truly. I am a sucker for good window dressing and pretty packaging. I've tried food just because of the wrapper it came in. I find this is a good way to choose wine and beer too. (Or would be if I liked wine and beer.)

Everyone is talking back to school again.

My girl and I went out "mommy/daughter" style to Wal-Mart. We even dressed the same. Both of us had matching food stains on our tops and cracked toenails with our fashion flip flops. Neither of us wore make-up or had looked in the mirror since that morning. So you know we were totally rocking Wal-Mart.

We went bravely forward without a list. I know I missed half of the five sets of specifically colored folders per child, five sets of specifically colored wire note books, 2 dictionaries, safety kits, sleeping bags, outdoor emergency cookers, Kleenex, rubber gloves, A-Z Encyclopedias, and everything else on this years list. But us girls got the good stuff. One Dollar Crayola Markers. Ultra cheep crayons and cheep paper, and some of the other stuff I know we will need. You can't beat that.

And afterward I counted out my change and found some pennies on the floor of the van to spring for this:

ONLY 780 Calories
and 38g of fat.

But we girls shared, so that's okay. Right?

And it was as good as it looked. So there. Found some truth in advertising, even if it should come with a warning label.

(this should be filed under the writing prompt, Something I regret doing,err, eating, but I think that was last weeks prompt. I'm suppose to post one for this week now...)

Prayers and wishes

2010-08-01T08:59:00.000-07:00

So, it has almost been a full year.

A full year since Change said, "How de do!"

A full year since I embraced a healthier lifestyle and gave myself permission to say no to white flour, white sugar, corn, potatoes, caramel frape's and flat bottoms. I have lost a little weight, take fewer naps of desperation, and started taking daily my-feet-hate-me walks.

Almost a full year since our last decent home-mortgage paying paycheck.

I am telling you now, I put in my request with the Big Guy. Laid it all out for Him. A dear friend advised me to lay it all out to the Universe and say what you want and need. Well, I took it to a higher power, the creator of the Universe and said "Hey, Big Guy. Super Life Coach!"

I'm thinking when things look bad, when the road looks long and endless, kinda like a killer highway in 109 degree weather, that there is not only a few water stops, (and Lord knows, He has blessed us with those, ) that there is also a Promised Land waiting just where you can't see it.

As I was visiting dear Bee&Rose who is a fantastic sarcastic blogger. (She came on the scene, got a hundred commenters in a month, and then disappeared. ) who has lately returned with 4 posts in less then a month ( be still my heart. Seriously, the woman puts the cheese back into cake, the salt back into sarcasm) and the fairy princess she lives with waved her magic wand and gave her this bit of wisdom.

"Wishes are prayers that look really pretty! God loves to hear your wishes!"

So I am going to buy some glitter, and a makes some confetti and next time I say, "In Jesus Name, Amen." I am going to blow a dandylion and throw some pretty wish-sparkles. (I am also inspired to make a collage and use that quote!)

Because while that desert road is looking endless, I know, I know, that there is still a Promised land waiting for us. I have no intention of getting beat down or giving up. I just need to work harder. Look harder. Listen harder.

And add a pair of fairy wings.

Re-Post

2010-07-29T17:47:00.001-07:00

An old post from last school year in case you missed it. I think prolly you did. I only got one or two comments. Maybe you should read it. It's funny. Well, I think it is funny.

My boys are getting very self sufficient for the most part, and I find it rather annoying.

For years we have tried to discourage this kind of behavior.

We give direction on where to put toys away.

We tell them to brush their teeth, floss, and swish with fluoride every night.

We tell them when to change their underwear and where to put the dirty ones.

We remind them to wash their hair in the shower and other assorted boy parts.

We tell them to "pick up that candy wrapper paper, put your socks in the laundry, and go to bed now. "

They are not permitted to fix their own meals, get toys and other stuff out of the garage, mix the chemicals under the sink to make explosives, or use the ceiling fan as a target for a homemade grappling hook, set up a huge hot wheels track that covers most of one floor of the house without their parents express permission.

So when did it happen that they are able to get themselves out of bed, find their own clothes either in the dresser, in the basket, in the dryer, or on the floor, manage to dress themselves in their own fairly clean clothes without major mistakes, (although zippers are often in the down position instead of the up position,) get themselves something to eat, put together their own lunches, grab all backpacks, coats, and school supplies, and walk to school on time all by themselves while my daughter and I are still snuggled in bed and asleep.

Even more, they manage to do all of this while arguing with each other about deeply important boy issues things like how much more cereal one brother has, who stole whose jeans, how to say the word "opinion," (one boy likes to say onion) how Houdini escaped from the London Prison, whether or not friction affects the earth's gravity and who's left the great ooze of toothpaste all over the bathroom counter.

And I when I stumble downstairs, I even find an empty cereal bowl or two in the sink, and the back door actually closed.

What is the deal with that? Who taught them to do this? What motivates them to get to school on time, of all things. When they accidentally slept in until 7:45 a.m. instead of 6:45 a.m. for the Most Evil Event Ever of Spring Forward, one child actually broke down in tears when he heard he was going to be tardy. How can they manage to do all of this without me?

And why do I have to still tell them to change their underwear?

Not Shopping Therapy

2010-07-27T15:10:00.000-07:00

Expressing myself through the wonder that is polyvore dream shopping....

Stylish foot in mouth by Dapoppins featuring Gucci shoes

If I have to put my foot into my mouth, I want to look good doing it.

Dapoppins 2 by Dapoppins featuring Christian Louboutin shoes

picknick by Dapoppins featuring Hermes scarves

Circus RED by Dapoppins featuring Monsoon accessories

A good foundation

2010-07-19T22:07:00.000-07:00

My dad and his wife took my kids, all four of them, camping.

Help me.

I haven't been alone like this with my husband, since, well since our first year of marriage. And it is so strange. And Quiet. And lonely.

Please Help.

I guess that's wrong that I feel that way, bad. I mean, we should spend more time with just us. But hey, we aint the Obama's with Paris date night. Some of us have to live like real folk. I bet the settlers didn't get a date night.

"Hey Ma, let's go out on the town and get away from the kids," says Pa in the one room cabin.

"What town?" says Ma.

"Under the stars, just us, you and I, bring a blanket." says Pa.

"And let a bear, or a wolf, or some rabbid rabbit get my kids when we are gone? Or have a spark get out the fireplace, or a gun go off, or a windstorm come along? What are you thinking? Besides, aint' no blanket soft enough that I am going to sit on the hard ground...!"

--I wonder if there is date-night stimulus? If there isn't there should be. Maybe there is something listed about "promoting individual and family health through the exercise of adult conversation and intimacy..." in the new health care bill and we could get some kind of health rebate for date night--

On Sunday morning we went to church, just my husband and I, and everyone we saw asked, "Where are the kids?" a surprised look on their faces. They might have been saying, "Where is your right arm?"

My Dad and his wife think I am nutts to be this attached to my own children.

But we have already established my here-to-fore nuttiness.

So, hubby and I went to church and I wanted to look nice and as we all know, looking nice must begin with good foundation garments. The 1954 Ladies Home Journal Says so!

So I put on my foundation garments. You know. The good stuff.

Yep. I wore my grandma's bootie panties to church.

And I wore a tummy slimming top that goes over my brand new fitted-perfectly brazier. I put on make up and did my hair all to look nice for my husband. Usually, I only get dressed up for my girlfriends, but as we were alone in the first time in years, I decided to look nice especially for him, and actually have some curves he might find appealing. I was still modest...just curvy modest.

Side note here...I picked up a book in the grocery story, something about a 22 week loving your husband challenge. We have been married about 13 years and I know sometimes I'm so much the grumpy, frumpy wife parked in front of the computer that I could maybe use a book like this. So I check out the contents of the book and guess what...turns out there are 4. basic things to please your husband: 1. Sex. 2. Food he likes 3. Positive words. 4.Looking good enough to take out to dinner and have sex after. So, I was inspired to dress up...

He said I looked nice and said I was cute when I told him I was wearing fine foundation garments and that was that.

Off we go to church.

And there we were and I was so stinkin distracted!

I just can't be right, to be standing next to your husband on consecrated ground, and worshiping the Creator of the Universe and most Awesome One and checking out other woman's butts to see how my own compared.

Not. Right.

I'd catch myself doing it and think, "WHAT am I doing?"

and look away, of course.
and close my eyes.

Offering was the worst. Women standing and walking in a line. Just parading their backsides around. I just could not seem to stop myself.

I surmise that all the butts that passed me must have been natural and God given and I could see that I was not one of the gifted ones and must use enhancements. However, if the barn needs painting, it should be painted, and if the teddy bear needs stuffing, you stuff it, don't you? Don't you? So I did, but I kept wanting to compare and that reeked of envy or some sort of cardinal sin, but you know, it can't ever be right to be checking out woman's butts in church.

Not going to wear booty underwear to church again.

But maybe to the movies.

Family Photo Post

2010-07-07T05:54:00.000-07:00

My mom, (who is the best looking 39 year old I have ever seen) the graduate, and my brother. This graduation was two hours long and I sent a ton of -bored-outa-my skull texts to face book. I even made kinda-mean comments about the high-school choirs version of a Michael Jackson song.

My dad and the graduate. Look! Can you tell my dad is smiling?

I know you all have been waiting to see more of my personal family photos. I just know it. A little voice in my head told me so.

I left the kids home with my dear husband for this early June three day trip and I missed them so much I might have left my right arm at home. Is that pathetic? I didn't miss them so much when we got home from the airport and the kitchen looked to be in exactly the same shape I left it it. That might've been awesome, had I left it clean. I don't know why I would think they would clean while I was away. Does your family do that for you?

Hey, did I tell you that my nephew, the awesome, blue, super-grad-guy, is going into the army?

Can you tell I am proud of the kid?

My own kidlets aren't too bad either.

Wherever I go, people, strangers even, tell me how cute and well behaved they are. They are the most wonderful (brb, oldest son is trying to flush youngest son down toilet)...wonderful, beatifically (one sec, DAUGHTER, sharpies are not to be used for eye liner!) beautiful, what was I saying? Oh yeah, perfect children to ever walk the earth.

My Personal Independance

2010-07-03T07:03:00.000-07:00

The Forth has always been about Fire Works for me...I don't think I thought much about independence.

Funny. For some reason, this year I am thinking a lot about independence.

The independence to choose not just whether or not to have a child,
But how I want to educate that child.

The independence to build something where it is needed,
rather than where an agency says I can build it.

The independence to own a gun to protect my family,
rather than being forced to wait for someone else to ride to the rescue 5 minutes too late.

The independence to choose what I want to eat or feed my family,
instead of having someone else tell me what we can eat.

The independence to use my own resources efficiently, the way I choose, and
not have it distributed to causes and persons I do not choose.

The independence to finish a fight with victory.

The independence to put God first
Country second
And Family third.

The independence to live my life knowing that absolute truth exists,
can not be changed by opinion
is not affected by emotion
does not bow to the collective mind

The Independence to allow others to make their own paths even as I make mine,
without having to do so with government permission.

Ye Old City

2010-06-29T19:36:00.000-07:00

"I have just heard five pistol shots down the street.... The pistol did its work well...two of my friends were shot. Both died within three minutes."

-- Mark Twain describing Virginia City to his mother in a letter.

From a very cool informational sight on Virginia City, Nevada...

We only visited Virgina City a couple of times with I was a girl, and I loved it. A step back into time. It was the best place in Reno. A place for old fashioned fantasies... I could live out my life with Little Jo, or walk to school with big sister Laura. All I needed was a long skirt, a bonnet, and a horse.

I fashioned a skirt and petticoats out of several of my mothers...I could never find a decent bonnet, and darn it, the horse was in a different state.

But that's another story.

I find it odd that homes form this ear contain tiny beds, meant to hold two people, and short doorways, meant for regular sized people to walk through, but these door ways are tall enough for your average basketball player.

(Say hi to my mom. )

Now if the outside is oldish and original , what could the inside be filled with? Just tons of vintage, antique, historic and other of stuff.

There were plenty of things I wished I could buy, and plenty of historic treasures tucked into corners.

This old globe was worth quite a bit in it's day.

Something I didn't get any good pictures of were all the rusty vintage things used as decorations. Crates, glass, cans, just oodles of stuff.

Many glass cases held silver dollars. Hundreds of dollars worth of silver dollars. You have heard of the Silver Queen, haven't you?

You should go here to read about her and just how much she is worth. Also, the hotel she is named for, has apparently been featured on Ghost Hunters.

I would love to stay the night in a well cared for but creepy and creaky hotel, walk down the stairs.

And jump into Little Joe's arms.

As my bloggy Aunt would say.

Le Sigh.

Scrappy Me

2010-06-21T08:52:00.000-07:00

Before I went for my nephew's graduation, I cleaned out my ~~craft area~~ bedroom, so that my husband wouldn't have to navigate the dangerous area of glue, paper, glitter, and precious pictures without a guide.

Every evening when I am in that nice tidy space----

I WANT TO MESS IT UP BADD!

This little note is tucked inside the envelop. I so want to do collage, and clutter up my pages with color but I have no eye for it at all. And I see all these cute paintings that are basically someones cute sketch and I think, hey, I can doodle, maybe I can draw and paint too...but sadly the two do not meet in the middle. The "I can do that too," is because I'm inspired by all the blogs and craft places online to try new things.

Is there anything about other peoples blogs that inspire you? Have you tried a new home project because you read about it on someone's blog and thought,"Hey, I can do that too!" Have you tried a new recipe, or stepped out of your comfort zone to enter a challenge?

How did it turn out?

Or am I the only one?

Happy Day

2010-06-20T10:25:00.000-07:00

Happy Father's day to all those wonderful father's out there.

I took my husband to see ToyStory 3, hid treats in my "movie purse" for him, including Nutter Butter cookies, didn't complain when he ate all the popcorn even though he says he doesn't like it, got him a new pair of shorts cause every other pair he owns is not fit for public viewing, and hid a Wii Nun-chuck thing in the legs of the shorts so that now he can play with the kids instead of standing on the side lines while they play and giving his "coaching directions."

And then I gave him a Birtday Card instead of a Father's Day card, that read: "Thank You for being a great husband and truely awesome father to our kids. Please remember this when I forget your birthday again..."

What did you do for the father of your children?

This afternoon we are going over to my dad's house for a bar-b-cue. It is raining now, so that is going to be real fun. Dad is one of those guys who has almost everything except the $5000 collectors fishing rod that all good fisherman must have and that I am never ever going to buy him, so I haven't even gotten him more than a mushy card, which he will look at and say, "Thanks hon," but secretly he agrees with me and thinks cards are kinda a waste of money and he would way rather have that fishing rod...

What do you get for your Dad when he already has everything?

Unexpected Treasure.

2010-06-14T13:15:00.000-07:00

This is the story of the treasure I found....

There I was, just going through grandma's things...trying not to get emotional.

As far back as I can remember, the yellow chest of drawers had been in her bedroom, with the matching dressing table, stool and bedside table. When she moved to the assisted living home, the dressing table had to be given away...but she still had that chest of drawers.

I remember being sneaky as a kid and searching for treasures when I was a kid and coming across my grandfathers purple heart, which, actually is the last and only time I saw the precious medal.

So here I was doing it again, sorting through underwear and good socks that help circulation, scarves, pajamas, and a few boxes of grandma's memories, when I came across the item of my dreams. In perfect mint condition. Never used.

Never worn. Just my size.

Padded underwear!!!

aka Booty Pop for the practical woman. Dare I?

Oh, you bet your booty I dare.

I grabbed those babies as if they were worth millions and put them in my stack of things to take home.
My heart beating with giddy joy, my flat booty wiggling with determined hope.

Finally, I, hoped, I could wear jeans that filled out the back side and wouldn't catch on the flub of my front side because I would have a juicy-licous booty to hold them up!

Yes! I could shake it like Shakera. I would work it like Jay-Lo.

I could now go forth and change the world with my delightful, artificially but not surgically plumped behind!

But would they work? Where all my dreams about to come true, or be deflated forever. Was this just wishful thinking? Would I look utterly ridiculous?

I don't have much in the way of a bottom or hips. My curves are a little higher on my body, and end at my ribs.

Can anything short of duct taping silicone to my butt save me from my flat sitting pad and long thighs? Did I just find deliverance among my dear grandmother's things?

Well, THAT seems to help a little. The pockets are fuller, and I can see some difference between my thigh and my butt.

But do I look pinchable? My husband thinks so!

What will others think?

So, I took my wonder-ware to Reno with me and my nephew's graduation. Would there be a difference? Would people notice?

Here I am at my mom's house, all dressed up to go to my nephew's graduation. This is without the miracle that is padded grandma panties.

And here I am after...

My mom, my brother's girlfriend Beth and all had a huge laugh over this. And I felt so totally and strangely empowered by my butt that I wore them all evening.

It wasn't until later, when Beth told my brother's ex-wife what I was wearing and told her to smack my padded behind that things got interesting. Not that I could feel much, the padding is 1/2 inch think and imbued with such powerful and protective butt enhancing qualities that I couldn't feel a thing.

However, when Beth invited my dad to take a squeeze, I was laughing too hard to see if he took her up on the offer.

If you have a flat a$$ like I do, I highly recommend you get your own pair. Only people who actually look at butts will notice a difference anyway!

Dear Blogie Wonderland,

2010-06-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

I just spent 30 minutes playing with that new blog layout designer. Have you tried it yet? I usually can't get it to load. I need to add some color over here in Dapoppins Land.

I'm here in Reno, my third day. Fly home tonight, and I miss my family sooo much. Is that crazy? Talked to them on the phone last night on the drive back from Virgina City, and they weren't excited at all about me coming home until I told them I was bringing candy.

The graduate and his sister were a good reason for visiting,

And so were the sights of Virgina City, Nevada. I have pics to share of this historical tourist trap. My mom took some much deserved time off and we drive the windy wagon train trial to see the sights. There is so much shabby junk and precious things everywhere...these people keep silver coins from the 1860's in saloon display cases, there were tall doorways, wood walk ways, and the coolest graveyard ever.

While I am here my husband is at home managing a weekend garage sale. We offered up two almost new kids bikes, kids clothes, cd's, dvd's, videos, books, assorted toys and other junk. The kids are excited because they got to price some of the toys, I hope they got the $20 they asked for on the broken remote control car.

But I will still be having a blog sale, and per a friends suggestion I am linking it to creigslist too. Not everyone is searching for that good deal on a ceramic rooster or Nippon Lady from the 1960's, and only a special person will recognize the value of a bag of glass beads, triple strand necklace with matching earrings, eyelet lace and tatting, and other assorted treats. I really hope this works! (hint, INVITE YOUR FRIENDS)

Sincerely,

Dapoppins.

Please Buy My Treasures

2010-06-07T12:04:00.000-07:00

I think I am going have a blog garage sale along with my real garage sale. I have so much stuff that needs a kind and loving home. Nippon figurines, a few sets of china chickens, oldish odities, and vintage jewelery and more newish craft makings I will never use. I could use the $$, to be honest.

Sale will be held here June 18- 20th. Bring your fellow junking and picking and hunting friends. Maybe have a sale on your blog too? In fact, would anyone like to join me? I would do it again the following weekend.

Going to keep things simple. Everything will be priced under 10$ (through paypal) with the lowest shipping I can get.

Tell me now. Is this a good idea, or a dumb one?

(ACK BLOGGER IS MESSING WITH ME, GO AHEAD AND COMMENT ON OLDER POST IF YOU CANT HERE)

project yard sale

2010-06-04T16:12:00.000-07:00

One reason I'm in a "getting rid of" sort of mood is that I am going to be a part of a garage sale this month and

I am thinking if the Goodwill can sell my junk for a do$$ar than I can sell my junk for a do$$ar. We actually

gave a whole truck full of stuff for a charity sale too, but it didn't even seem to make a dent in the

overwhelming amounts of stuff we have tucked away in the various corners and closet of our home, (not to

mention the huge pile I took out of the kids room on a day I decided to clean for them...)

I haven't finished many of my projects. I interrupted the organization of my craft area with finishing some

pages I had set aside. ( I forgot that I just can't stop scrap booking...I have to make at least 2 books for

Christmas.) And that dresser is still in my living room. I hope to work on things this weekend if my back

doesn't go out and I am forced to lounge about and eat bon bons.

Does any one know how to get the "grandma" smell out of her old wood dresser? The boys are not too

keen on having their underwear smell like grandma undies. WHAT is wrong with them? It is nice dresser

with drawers that don't fall out every time you try to open them. CANT they be grateful? So what if it smells

a little like old person. That should be a nice memory for them.

If they can't take the smell, I am thinking lavender sachets. Etsy has several styles to choose. I was going to

go ultra girly, but I like these better...French Burlap Sachets

You will ever guess the treasure I found in this dresser either. It is something I have been longing for and

needing for a long time. I was just tickled to find it. I tried it out the other day, a test run, and had a blast.

This is going to change my life, I tell you...But you will have to wait for pictures.

So, we are waiting for something good to happen to us...working for change, hoping for some doors to open

in the realm of finance. God is good to us, His grace is sufficient, but we gotta get off our butts and work

towards soemthing...step out. I hope that we are doing are part, to free The Great Life Coach in the Sky to

do His part...

Next week I am leaving going to the Biggest Little ~~Ashtray~~ City in the world for my nephew's graduation. I

am a bit of a home body, but the boy made it through alive and needs someone to ~~embarrass~~ cheer him on,

on the big day. Guess it will have to be me.

Have a Great Weekend!

Projects

2010-06-01T17:44:00.000-07:00

This is a picture from my craft area. Which sits at the end of our humble marriage bed so that I can dream of crafts I'm not doing and my husband can grumble about my messes. Whenever I scrapbook or anything, I take everything out go though the stash again...I sit right in front of his dresser so that he can't get to anything...don't worry, sometimes I leave a little path to the bathroom. I am always finding treasures I forgot I had. But I don't think I will be doing any serious scrapbooking or crafting so I need to get it organized and put away. I have this crazy dream of totally rearranging my bedroom and getting the carpet, (which may or may not have glue and/or paint spilled on me cause a kid bumped me mid project,) professionally cleaned with one of those discount coupons in the weekly stuff the post office sends me to recycle for them.

(Disclaimer to readers: This is in a room not for guest use where socks on the floor might be not considered odd or unusual. This is not on the stairs, the kitchen floor, the bathroom floor, the hall way, or any other non-Dapoppins mess area. therefore this is acceptable mess as far as I am concerned. And it's not as if I ever go into the garage where the tool mess is, is it?)

This is one side of an organized drawer. I spent almost two hours last night on this drawer. It's now a nice tidy area below that stuff in picture one. But....Under the drawer, at my very feet, is this lovely sight...

Holy Moly. I need help.

Since I can't seem to have one project at a time...here are some more half way done things....

This shelf, curio thing from Grandma is quite tall. Many of the things on it, like the black and white chickens are from Grandma's house too. I would love to paint it shabby-something...but my husband has a thing for natural wood. Even if it doesn't match the rest of the much darker wood, or the much lighter painted wood in the room...

However, this is the rest of the room right now, and this is usually the cleanest room in the house.

Why Yes, that is a chest of drawers right in the middle of my living room. Part of a set my grandmother had...and painted herself, a couple of times...I am going to use it in my boys room, as they seem to be tired of their changing table/dresser. (Note the darker finish of the wood of all the other furniture in the room...)

Over the weekend we managed to purge out some unloved books and videos and fill a bookshelf so that we can find what we want. Imagine that!

Well, I think this shelf needs paint too. I asked my husband how hard it would be to paint stuff, and he wanted to know if I wanted to do it Grandma's way or my way...just paint over what is there with drips and layers and all, or do it the right way, with the stripping of the paint and the chemicals and the sanding and all that. I hope there is just an easy way. Isn't there an easy way? Do you know an easy way?

Unfortunatley, the shelf organization project is also only half done...here is the top of it.

I had pictures hung over here, but they fell down...something about kids slamming doors and trowing Nerf balls. Soft Nerf balls are not suppose to break anything. Ha. That is a fat lie.

I made the pictures small for the sake of a nice looking post, but feel free to click and take a closer look at all my messes. You know you want to.

Don't forget to add your 2Cents on home organization, paint ideas.

In memorandum

2010-05-30T21:28:00.000-07:00

1945-46

He was in the military. Maybe drafted. Maybe enlisted. He wrote her letters.

She wrote him back. And then she started getting her letters back....

My Grandmother talked about the love of her life. She said he had died in the war. Was this him? She married my grandfather after the war...so these letters didn't come from him. And if she wrote other friends during the war, those letters weren't saved for years and years only for a curious granddaughter to find....Seeing the returned letters was....startling for me.

We rented a moving movie about fallen hero's today. Taking Chance. I recommend it...the quietest times of the movie tell the most powerful story.

I don't think I understand what it means to serve your country...but I am grateful for every man and woman who has.

My dad was in Vietnam, and but as a mechanic he never saw combat...just worked on the machines that served the men who did, and in doing so, he may have saved lives, may have brought boys home. My uncle, who did walk on that field of hurt, still deals with the trauma of it every day of his life.

My husbands family is full of sons and daughters who have served and worked hard, and still work hard.

Thank You. To them, and to all those who serve, and have served.

"Your his witness now. Without a witness they just disappear."
Quote from Taking Chance

legos, nails, and other things you don't want to step on

2010-05-22T11:47:00.000-07:00

A summery of male/female points of view

Men can't read their wives minds.
Men have different priorities than women.
What one person sees out of one set of eyes is usually completely different from what the other person sees out of another set of eyes .
Knowing what "perspective" means is important for relationships.
What is treasure to one person is junk to another. But that doesn't mean you can't get rid of it anyway.

Have I got that right?

My pal Bee added some good points in her ~~comment~~ post that I want to share too:

First, I don't complain about Mr Coffee cause we talk about everything. And by "talk about everything" I mean he is perfect.

He's a hoarder, I'm a thrower. See? Perfect.

Secondly, discovering how you both clean I think is important. Mr Coffee shoves all those things he doesn't know what to do with...against the kitchen backsplash but he wipes off the range hood and top of fridge (I know this because we, too, are the same height). When I clean? The kitchen looks like an Ikea catalog, except not so trendy and way smaller. Okay, maybe more like a JCPenney catalog without the matchy-matchy-wanna-gag, 80s era drapes. Clean counters. Everything in it's place.

Yeah the boxes have remained unopened, yeah I plan to get to them, but they aren't in the way like the three broken vacuum cleaners waiting to be "repaired" and they aren't obvious clutter either. Sweet Lawd, this made me choke on my own spit from laughing so hard. So, yeah. Thanks for my new hernia.

And hereto, forthwith, I think the rule is that women learn to change tires, install ceiling fans, and take apart the vacuum cleaner because we are so tired of waiting for it to be done. We just do it. Do husbands miss the two "extra" vacuum cleaners? Not typically, but if they do you say the vacuums have bit the dust (get it? dust...bwahahhaaberghhh~choke~

) went to Vacuum Heaven and it's one less thing for him to be concerned about cause you know how much he has on his plate.

(aka, what he doesn't know goes to the dump and you don't have to step on it or pick it up EVER. AGAIN.)

Sorry this is so long but I've just had a coffee frapp and I can't stop typing.

PS. Mr Coffee can build a kitchen hutch in 42 seconds, I'm just saying....

Monday

2010-05-22T11:07:00.001-07:00

I forgot that death comes in 3's

(more reality. don't feel obligated to read this whole post.)

I feel as if I could write a pamphlet for Hospice services on conversations to have with a loved one who is dying, as well as the loved ones who come to share their last goodbyes.

I didn't go to the service for my friend Julie (Ludmilla). I didn't go and sit with her family afterwards…

Julie was the one who made me apart of that family, included me in everything, sat and talked with me and my kids.

At the other family funerals and get togethers, it was Julie I spent the most time chatting with, Julie who encouraged me to get something to eat, Julie who wanted to keep me up to date on all the goings on.

And knowing she wouldn't be there broke something in me that I hadn't realized was so fragile and uncomfortable.

So I didn't go, and in typical avoidance fashion, didn't even send flowers or a timely card.

And now today I am sitting at my 95 year old grandmother's bedside listening to her breathe. She has that old person death look that I know very well, sunken eyes, open mouth, pale skin, bony, bony structure as life leaks away.

I don't want to deal, but unlike with Julie's departure, I can't avoid this. She isn't a friend, she is a relative, my Grandmother who taught me cuss words at her knee, more than an obligation…but an obligation I can't hide from.

She's 95. She's tired. She hurts. It's her time…

Things to say to the dying:

I love you.

I am here.

Remember when…?

Thank you for…

Pray for them, sing to them, read to them…

Things to say to the living:

I love you.

I am here.

Remember when…?

Pray for them, sing to them, read to them…

Because it isn't enough, yet, there is nothing like human comfort.

I knew this day was close ..

For some reason, I have this awful need to write about it all. Somewhere, in journals, on stray papers, in the files of the computer, somewhere are accounts of every death I've been near. Emotional expression seems useless and wasteful…and scary for the kids. But this is silent, and just as expressive, and I must write it.

My Grandma passed on last night at 1a.m. I had been reading to her from an old Missle and a card that had Prayers from the daily Mass on it, and also the Creed. And I prayed with her, holding her limp hand, about my faith, my Jesus, and forgiveness of sins. I don't know what was in her thoughts. But she would move her eyebrows and seem to try to mouth words...in agreement? In denial? I don't know. But I told her not to be afraid of death. She was such a fighter, strong because she had to fight for dignity in her childhood, marriages, and self identity. She overcame disappointments and bad decisions and found peace in the little things. Her determination carried her through so much, it seemed obvous to us she was going to use it to fight for every minute of life.

I will probably be stuck on this depressing stuff for awhile. The best way for me to express these feelings is in writing, and I find comfort in knowing others have heard me, and some how shared in my feelings. I used to live a life of dramatic, passionate expression, sharing every painful itch with the general world with my tears and screamings...these last few years when I do greive it is mostly silent and self contained...but with words and a keyboard, there is no holding back.

So, I am sorry for putting you through this...but the blog is as much a journal of my life as anything else...and well...there it is.

Never talk about your personal life on the blog...

2010-05-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

I have noticed most of the blogs I visit don't ~~complain~~ talk about their significant others very much. Is that a matter of conscious choice, or just because the your main squeeze is perfect? Is it because it is one of those never-spoken-rules-of-marriage that you don't discuss things dealing with marriage outside the, um, marriage?

I don't believe in husband bashing or man bashing. Really, I don't. My super-powered-awesome-uterus and 1000 volts of volcanic hormones may make me Uncomparable to man, but man has the mysterious, "don't-make-me angry-or-I can-throw-a-car-and-build-an-new-kitchen-hutch-in-60-seconds TESTOSTERONE." I consider us both to be unique creatures, and being female, I find how a guys brain works, especially my husband's, to be fascinating.

My (hypothetical and slightly exaggerated) question of the day is, Why is it when-ever I go on a cleaning de-clutter binge and want to get rid of stuff, the only stuff my husband sees to get rid of is the stuff that has been sitting nicely in an out of the way box on a cabinet against the wall for the last 5 years? Yeah the boxes have remained unopened, yeah I plan to get to them, but they aren't in the way like the three broken vacuum cleaners waiting to be "repaired" and they aren't obvious clutter either.

Why is it when I want to get rid of stuff out of the kids room such as: any toy that is on the floor and or any toy that has been missing one significant piece for more than 6 months; all my husband can see in his line of sight is the singing stuffed toys sitting on a shelf (where they are suppose to be) that hardly get played with but add nice color to the other-wise plain room...?

Why, when we are around the same height, does my husband always SEE a completely different mess than I do and how can I see what he is seeing and explain what I am seeing without being insulting or condescending or going insane?

How do you do it?

Thank You for Your Kind Words Last Week

2010-05-17T10:49:00.000-07:00

My Amazing dear Friend.

2010-05-14T12:48:00.000-07:00

Ludmilla Julia

Sztimar Pitkin

Pitkin, Ludmilla Julia Sztimar 84 05/01/1926 05/09/2010 Ludmilla Julia Sztimar Pitkin,
a resident of Portland, died May 9, 2010, in Portland.

She was 84 years of age. Ludmilla was born May 1, 1926, in Gdansk (now Danzig), Poland, a free city on the Baltic Sea, and was the daughter of Neonneil and Anastasia (Kardowksi) Sztimar. She was raised in Russia, near the Black Sea in Crimea, where she attended Catholic school until she fell ill and was tutored from her home.

At age 16, during World War II, Ludmilla and her grandmother were taken prisoner by the German military as they were trying to escape to Odessa across the frozen Black Sea. They were transported by boxcar to a central German work camp near Weimar where she was used as slave labor for the German war machine. Her grandmother, the only living relative with her, did not survive the train trip. After three years of slavery, she became politically active, joining the resistance, and was arrested for sabotage. She was sent to the concentration camp in Buchenwald where she barely escaped execution. With the advancing Allied forces in 1945, the Waffen SS slated the Russian contingent and other groups for extermination. By storming the main gate, a small number survived and escaped into the forest and rural farmland. Ludmilla broke her leg, but she continued to flee till "her lungs burned like fire."

Along the way, a kindly German farm family aided her as she found her way through the battle lines to Belgium to freedom. After reaching Belgium, Ludmilla stayed at a nunnery and worked at their restaurant in Ath, between Lille and Brussels. At a USO dance, she met a young U.S. Army sergeant, Charles William Pitkin Jr. Charles fell in love with Ludmilla's charm, charisma and intelligence. They were originally married in Belgium, prior to his deployment to Ulm, Germany, joining a phalanx of Patton's command supporting the Austrian Front. Ludmilla followed by hitching rides and stowing away with Charles' company. In Ulm they were able to gain baptismal records and identity papers from a generous priest establishing her legitimacy of citizenship in Poland. While in Ulm, the war ended and Charles was redeployed to the Pacific theater, leaving Ludmilla behind, with a child on the way. It was difficult for war brides to gain access to the U.S. after the armistice. Charles' mother, Lucille, wrote to Eleanor Roosevelt, and his father, William Sr., persuaded his lawyer, Wayne Morris, newly elected to the Senate, to intervene and facilitate immigration. The war in the Pacific ended before Charles could be deployed and he was released from duty.

Ludmilla arrived in New York via Ellis Island in early September 1946 and they were reunited. On Sept. 30, 1946, they were ceremonially remarried in Coburg, surrounded by her new family and friends. Their first son, Orleonok Pitkin, was born Oct. 29, 1946. Ludmilla resided in Coburg (near Eugene) for nine years, giving birth to Russell July 9, 1949, and Natalie on Aug. 20, 1952. The family moved to East County in 1955 and she resided in the Centennial area for 54 years. Ludmilla worked for Discount Fabrics as a fabric consultant for 19 years and later had her own private seamstress business.

She retired in 1984, along with her husband. They celebrated their new retired lives with travel including trips to Mexico, the Bahamas, China and Ecuador to visit the Galapagos Islands. She was a lifelong member of Greenpeace and held a special place for animals and nature. While fortunate to have traveled the world, she was always glad and felt lucky returning to Oregon and the Northwest, "the most beautiful place in the world." She was a member of St. Anne Catholic Church in Portland for many years and also belonged to St. Joseph the Worker Catholic Church in recent years.

Her greatest love however, was spending time with her family. She simply adored her grandchildren and made a point to attend every event they were involved in. The great-grandchildren were icing on the cake. Lu dmilla is survived by her sons, Orleonok (wife, Yolanda Baca) Pitkin of Portland and Russell (wife, Mary) Pitkin; daughter, Natalie Pitkin-Maizels (husband, Steve Maizels) also of Portland; six grandchildren; four step-grandchildren; nine great-grandchildren; and two step-great-grandchildren. Ludmilla lost all her family members during the war. Her husband, Charles, preceded her in death in 2008. A funeral Mass will be held at 10 a.m. Friday, May 14, 2010, in Holy Redeemer Catholic Church, Portland. Recitation of the rosary will be at 9:30 a.m., just prior to Mass, also in the church. Visitation will be from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Thursday, May 13, 2010, in Bateman Carroll Funeral Home, Gresham. Interment will be in Willamette National Cemetery. Contributions may be made to the American Cancer Society.

Published in The Oregonian on May 13, 2010

Torn

2010-05-12T13:44:00.000-07:00

Oh my dear friends,

Ever stand in a place where you could see the world spinning, see possibilities like lightning flashes, see both sides of a coin at once?

Ever stand in a place where peace, bliss, and woe collide, where anxiety shakes your foundations, yet the foundations remain true, where sharks circle for blood, while you hold a box of band-aids in your hand?

Well. I am in a mood today, aren't I? It is just that change is knocking at the door and getting more insistent. Change and challenge, and in the midst of it all a dear elderly friend has passes away from cancer, while my dear elderly grandmother fights a similar battle and comes closer everyday to her own passing...

...My husband has had a job offer he doesn't want, but will take for the sake of his family if the door remains open. I have people stepping out of the woodwork wanting to give me work to-do that I have no qualifications for, and while there are so many other things on my personal to-do list I feel like I am stairing up from the lowest valley with moutians to overcome.

Oh. I know. It is all one day at a time. One bite at a time. But I still feel a lot like this lady must feel...

You really woke me up at 6:30 a.m. to tell me you are bored?

2010-05-10T08:52:00.000-07:00

My Mom is going to love this post...My bad morning is going to save you from the really overblown and over long post I started yesterday...but reality intervened.

Yesterday morning I was the worlds best mother. Today, not so much.


Mommy Dearest..."WIRE HANGERS!!!!"

What do you do when you feel yourself start to go nuclear? What do you do when the bickering, the sniping, the pointless, repetitive questions, the yipping and yapping, the clutter, the toys, the tiny legos everywhere, the mess, the socks left in odd places, the experiments you knew nothing about start falling out of the freezer, the yelling, the competitive need to be first, the competitive need to be right, the competitive need to be heard, all crash down on your head before you have had your first cup of coffee? What is a good way to handle this?

Because I am pretty sure the way I handled it wasn't a good way.

If you show me your muffins, I will pinch them.

2010-05-08T19:50:00.000-07:00

"Blessed be all mothers
Who have come into our lives
Whose kindness, care and loving
Remain with us to guide."
~S. Kramer

My tribute to mother's everywhere, you know who you are.

(a re-post with added illustrations for your reading enjoyment.)

Most of my friends know that I have a serious problem.

Abut a year ago, after being caught indulging in my secret problem in a local park, an intervention was staged. Friends and family gathered about, their faces were serious. Full of concern. At first I thought it was a surprize birthday party, until my best friend Bee started passing out little pamphlets to everyone about how gently convince me to change my evil ways.

"Poppins, you have a problem," Bee said with a sad shake of her head.

"Huh? Where's the diet Coke? How can you have a birthday party without diet Coke?" I asked.

"I'll get you your diet Coke fix later, dear," said my husband with a beleaguered expression. If you know any men who have been married to caffeine addicts for more than ten years, you probably have seen this expression before. Deep, sad eyes, but sort of tight around the mouth.

"We need to talk to you," Bee tried to continue as I searched the dining room for presents. Where were the gifties? This was all about me, wasn't it?

"Dapoppins. Please sit down. We need to talk about what happened. In the park."

"In the park? Oh, that. No big deal, it was all cleared up." I blushed a bit, embarrassed. I mean, anyone would be embarrassed, wouldn't they? My blush was accompanied by a a smile. I couldn't help it. A satisfied cat-in-the-cream smile as I remembered the park.

Bee knelled before me and took my hand. My sister-in-law and niece scooted close. Someone got my mom on the speaker phone so she could listen in and offer sage advise.

Thank goodness my Dad's Wife wasn't there. She had caught me indulging once in the bathroom of her house and proceeded to lecture me up one side and down the other. The woman isn't shy about giving her opinion about anything, and until that day, I had never even considered that my little problem might be detrimental to anyone.

I smiled at Bee's earnest face. I kinda liked her there, kneeling. You know, she is about a foot taller than me, and always makes me feel like a lawn gnome who forgot his hat. "Dapoppins, you know you have a problem, don't you?"

"Uhhhhhh-"

"It was alright when you were able to keep your problem within family and friends, but at the park you forgot yourself didn't you, and that wasn't the first time. You can't keep doing this. Your children are going to grow up warped and think every body does this..."

"Well, I--"

Bee wouldn't let me bring out my list of excuses. "No. No Dapoppins. You just can't go around pinching bottoms. You can't. It just isn't done. You really scared those people at the park."

I looked down shamefully. There it was out in the open. Where everybody could see it. I PINCH BUTTS. I can't help myself. Playing tag, going up the stairs, if there is a kid in front of me with a nice round bottom I want to pinch it. Not a painful pinch. Just a gentle little-squidgy. And then the kid squeaks and giggles and I want to do it again. I Butt pinch so often that my younger kids, and Bee's own daughter, will wiggle their behinds at me and say, "Have a little Butt!" Just to tease me.

"We were playing tag," I offered to Bee lamely.

"You have a problem. You need to keep your hands to yourself."

Okay, all that happened ages ago, and I have been going to Bottom Pinchers Therapy for awhile. But last night my seven year old came out of the bathroom naked and it was so totally-butt-open-season that I could not help myself. Who can resist that sort of temptation. I managed to get one pinch in before he squealed and shut the door, deciding to get dressed.

My little girl has been lovingly drawing me pictures all week in preparation of Mother's day. I have gotten hearts, kitty cats, alligators eating jellyfish, heart people picking flowers,love notes galore, pictures of my dream candy land complete with chocolate rivers and cherry-drop trees. And today, I received several pictures like this:

I think I need more therapy.

All the Wrinkled Ladies

2010-05-03T08:47:00.000-07:00

Wrinkled Ladies: BE PROUD

Mother's Day is in May

2010-04-28T09:07:00.000-07:00

I am working on my Mother's Day gift wish list. It's important to start early on these important things, be consistent, clear, and creative. (I call those the three C's of gift list making, these 3 C's can also be applied to marriage, parenthood, and sermon giving, but that's another post altogether.) If my kids can start working on their gift lists a year before Christmas's and Birthdays, then I can start a week before Mother's Day.

It's only fair.

It is important to develop a list of items priced $20 and under. Therefore the BootyPop is on my list~ an item I dearly want but can neither afford or justify on our current budget. I can also get a leopard print Snuggie, for under $20 and lots of nice colored card-stock papers for $20.

What is on your wish-list? What is the most outrageous thing outside of the Hope Diamond you could ask for? What is the most dear Mother's Day gift of Mother's Day Past you have ever gotten? Is my all-about-me-style of list a little too selfish? What do you think? Are you going to post about it?

April is Poetry Month

2010-04-25T19:03:00.000-07:00

Brilliant tulips. Doesn't it seem like this years spring flowers are brighter and more cheerful? These are a neighbor's flowers. I managed to spend about 20 minutes outside attacking some weeds in our flower beds. The same beds that come with the house when we bought it, but since I don't plant stuff I don't have anything like these in my yard. We have a couple of bushes. And a depressed pansy. But nothing that is planted with a bulb.

I tried my hand a poetry month again. Just because every time I visit Lilac Spec's blog, there is a poem, and Paige is always saying, "Did you write a poem yet," and I know that in my youth I was a fantastic and prolific poetry writer so I keep thinking I should at least be able to pull off one stink-in poem....

On one side there are
song birds singing
coaxing a breeze
through new spring leaves.

On one side there are
modern people driving
rushing the day
on pavement dark and gray.

Nature thrums on
while humanity pushes forward
restful tranquility of wild exsistance
buzzing activity of daily trials insistence...

And that's all I got. Here, have another picture.

How to answer, "Why do you love me?"

2010-04-18T09:05:00.001-07:00

I think women have little trouble answering the question, "Why do you love me?" because we spend time thinking about it, pondering the meaning, weighing the pros and cons of a relationship, testing the longevity of our feeling by seeing if the answers to this question will last a lifetime.

At least, that is the way it is for me. I asked myself dozens of times, "Why do I love him?" before I entered into marriage. I weighed the answers. I even listed them on paper to be sure.

I have trouble imaging a young man doing this.

TOP 5 REASONS I LOVE SUZY

Her body

Her boobs

Her butt

Her face

Everything else.

A truly insightful guy might add "the way she makes me feel, " to the list. (IMPORTANT: Note to young men, these are NOT the answers a young lady longs to hear from her man.)

Am I right? Correct me if I am wrong. I dare you. DARE YOU! Help me develop a list of quick answers to the best question a lady can ever ask her man. I plan to paper the internet with the list, so that the next time some poor dude googles, "Why do you love me?" answers, a definitive list will be there for all to see.

(for deeper, more sincere and spiritual insights, visit my husband's blog today.)

Love

2010-04-16T10:00:00.000-07:00

Why do you love me: The question most women will ask their man, and the question most men have no idea how to answer. I dared to ask my husband, a couple of years ago and this has become my most googled post, which I find very amusing.

I know that there are some questions that men hate to hear from their wives. Sometimes I ask the stupid questions, just to be mean, just to see what kind of answer my husband of eleven years, and friend of more than twenty years, will come up with.

"Am I fat?"
"Would you love me if I weighed 300 lbs?"
"If I die, are you going to get married again?"

Sometimes he knows I am being ridiculous, and sometimes, I guess when he isn't quite plugged into my mood, or properly reading my mind he answers: "Fat? No, but you could loose weight if you exercised more and didn't drink so much diet coke and eat candy at 10:00 at night."

Which is a fine answer. It gives me an excuse to be mad so that he feels like he needs to go to the store and replenish my supply of Reese's Peanutbutter Cups.

Today I asked him, "Why do you love me?"

His amazingly romantic answer? "Because I made a commitment before God to love you."

I huffed and blew my hair out of my eyes. "No, I mean, apart from an act of your will, apart from discipline, why do you love me?"

He got this deer-in-the-headlights expression. I wasn't aware this was one of those questions that stump a man. I gave him some of my specific reasons why I love him above all other mortal men. Reasons why I married him. I carefully explained that when I am so frustrated or angry with him and us that I feel like I am going to explode, that I remember these reasons, and it helps me remember how and why I love him.

He tried to take my reasons..."Well, that's why I love you too!"

"Listen, you can't just look at my paper and see my answers you need to come up with your own!" I continued to express my feelings on this.

He just sat there. He says he was listening. But since he said nothing, I think he was thinking about his next homework assignment from his online school.

I am so going to need some Reese's!