Monday, March 31, 2008


Contemplating 29

Dan, Al and Ivy Ann

Baby Asherly

Dan and Al on diaper duty

Lu picks mom a present


my cousin Tam, niece Carina and I strike a pose.

unsuspecting relatives

kissy treatment

cake time

Uncle Nate and Lulu a few days ago

Lu does Nate's hair

Scott plays video games with Lu

Ash and Nate

Big Man on Campus - quite proud of himself for figuring out how to climb on things

I did an interpretive birthday dance but can't seem to get the video to load. Will try it again when the kids are napping.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

5 years

Dear Scott,

Even though I just snapped at you about something stupid, 10 minutes before that I was writing a letter full of soliquies and promises of undying love to you in my head. And 10 minutes before that you were snuggling with our daughter, watching nerdy science shows.

Now, you are playing video games with her.

The best decision I ever made was becoming your wife, 5 years ago today. I love that picture of us - the light is just perfect and, yeah, too bad I don't have a digital version. You told me last night that we already look older. Yes, we do!

We've cried alot since then, yeah, for various reasons. Some happy, some not so.

Every day I wake up next to you, love, is a blessing. My mostest favoritest thing about you is the way you can make me laugh, just by the way you accent certain words in a sentence, or by the way you make Asher or Lucy laugh, or by the way you whip out random one-line zingers. (No one believes that you actually do this, though, as you are so shy in public.)

Some days we annoy the hell out of each other, but we always apologize (ok, usually) before our heads hit the collective pillow of sleep. I simultaneously adore and abhor your need for order and routine, and you simultaneously adore and abhor my pyschotic nature, constant talking, and obsessive tendencies. All in all, though, I'd say we're pretty well-matched.

When my grandpa died last year, the day after his funeral actually, I remember waking up before you. I watched the lines of your face as you slept; the morning sun gradually whisking away the dark and accenting the parts of your face I love. Ach, who I am I kidding. It's all of you I love. Every imperfect and wonderful part of you. We spoke, then, after you had attained consciousness, of how lucky my grandparents were to have each other - and how we musn't let the days of our youth go by without realizing how great we have it today.

I love you!!! Let's grow old together, shall we?


Tuesday, March 25, 2008

and they say it isn't a job...

I remember so vividly being near the end of a babysitting gig and thinking to myself, "Thank GOD their parents are coming home!"


3:30 AM Lucy wakes, apparently her stuffed fish pillow is not to her liking. I tell her that is something she is going to have to just deal with, and screams of anger ensue. We hear demands of, "SCRITCH MY HEAD! SCRITCH MY HEAD!", so Scott goes in there, lackey that he is, and scritches her angry little head. He is almost free and clear, out of her room, when Asher wakes up and wonders where I am. I nurse him; we both go back to sleep.

5:30 AM Lucy screaming; complains she has an "owie". The entire lower half of her body (I suppose that would be her legs) is off of the bed. I put her back on.

5:45 AM Asher up for the day.

6:00 AM Lucy demands macaroni and cheese for breakfast. I hem, she haws, we settled on toast with honey. The honey is not at 10 o'clock on the plate, as she likes. Asher smears his banana on the wall.

7:00 AM Lucy shuts the door on Asher's fingers. He screams.

7:15 AM Lucy shuts the door on Asher's fingers. He screams.

7:30 I clean up the kitchen; shuffle her toward the electronic babysitter - sippy cup in hand (Both Scott and the dentist agree that she's 3, and too old for her Dora sippy. They obviously don't stay home with her all day.)

8:00 Lucy shuts the door on Asher's fingers. He screams.

8:30 I tell Lucy if she does that one more time, she will be in time out. She does it again 10 minutes later. Asher screams.

9:00 - 10:45 Laundry; Asher follows me around the house, asking to be picked up. He cries when ever I set him down.

10:45 We head up to the elementary school to get Lucy screened for preschool. Asher throws a tantrum over not being able to have the entire bag of animal crackers. Everyone looks at me with googly eyes. I keep trying to fill out the paper work but am interrupted multiple times by different women asking me to answer lame questions.

11:15 One of the teachers doing the screening comes to me and says she needs my help. We go into the audiology room and Lucy is sobbing. She is terrified that she is having more surgery and will not let the audiologist anywhere near her. We will have to go back to finish the testing.

11:30 Asher and Lucy melt down on the way home; macaroni and cheese and bananas and whole milk for lunch. I clean up their lunch as they fight over the junk mail.

11:45 Asher squirts KY Jelly all over the living room rug.

12:00 I inform Lucy she will be taking a nap today in 15 minutes.
Screaming ensues.

12:15 Lay both kids down for a nap; hear them giggling and playing, then Asher screaming. Go in their room; Lucy is trying to pull Asher out of his crib. His leg is stuck in the bars and he is unamused.

12:30 Bring Lucy to lay in our bed; read her a Biscuit book, tell her she needs to sleep.

12:45 Lay on the couch, try to sleep while the kids moan.

1:00 Check on Lucy; she's emptied the contents of my 64 ounce jug of water all over the floor. I turn into that kid from the Exorcist and send her to time out.

1:05 Send her back to bed after cleaning up the water; check on Asher. The room smells like a dinosaur just took a dump, I clean the poop off of his diaper and his back, lay him back down. More screaming, this time snot coming out of his nose.

1:10 Try to go back to sleep on the couch; hear more screaming.

1:15 - 3:00 Lucy and Asher complete their audition tape for the Jerry Springer show, then Lucy starts in with washing her hands and getting water everywhere. Asher tries to join in.

3:00 I inform the kids we will be walking to Target.

3:30 Arrive at Target; Lucy falls asleep in the front of the stroller and Asher begins to scream. We receive disapproving looks from old ladies and young ones alike.

3:45 Open a pack of marshmallow bunnies we have yet to pay for; Asher happily munches on one as chocolate streams down his chin. He is truly looking trashy at this point. I mentally thank God that I have not encountered anyone I know.

3:45 Hear, "Rachel! Hey!", as I see a friend and her kids. Thank God for his sense of humor.

4:00 We walk back from Target, I start dinner. Lucy refuses to come inside; asks me, "Mama, can I just run around the yard while you go inside?"

4:15 I begin making dinner; wonder why I bought Lucy that Cars step stool, as she runs in the kitchen with a half-empty travel-size tube of toothpaste. She grins at me with blue gunk hanging off of her teeth and happily exclaims, "Mama! Look at my princess teeth!"

4:30 Lucy and Asher play. Lucy takes Asher's toy. Asher screams.

4:45 I realize I forgot to get aluminum foil; borrow some from the neighbor.

5:00 Ask Lucy to please move so I can cook at the kitchen sink.

5:15 Wonder why the house is a disaster.

5:55 Finish this blog post and wonder if Scott will wonder what I've been doing all day.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

saves me

It's always a crapshoot, cleaning out old files.

Marriage license, old receipts, recipes that sucked. Hospital bills, medical records. And then I see it, and reading it for the 300th time still turns my bone to concrete.

"Examination of 'Products of Conception, Baby B" - autolyzed fetus, extremely macerated, as a result gender is undefinable. There are what appear to be several loops of colon protruding from the abdominal cavity, as well as many other abdominal organs....fetus appears to be incompatible with life."

Death does seem to be incompatible with life, doesn't it?

A mother nurses her child, another mother weeps for her lost one - her first Easter without.

lovers swoon, cancer cells multiply.

A rose blooms, a man in a bed takes his last breath as the sun makes its descent down whitewashed walls into night.

dogs bark, a homeless boy shrinks deeper into makeshift existence as cold prevails.

This life, I can never make sense of it. And maybe that's the point. Because if I could make sense of it, I'd have no need for it, the thing that saves me.


Thursday, March 20, 2008


I hate the guilt I feel after I have put the kids in bed some days. I am excited to have a little time to do my own thing, but then I think back on the day and wonder if I was ALWAYS patient or ALWAYS kind to their little souls and I start to beat myself up.

Chels has tagged me!
4 random facts about my kids:

1. Lucy has an extra tooth.
2. Asher is 14 months and has no interest in walking. He likes to nurse. Doesn't that count for something?
3. Lucy no longer enjoys her nicknames. We can't call her Bella or Lovey or Tiny Toons or any of the things we used to call her. "I'm just Lucy!" she exclaims.
4. Asher can sleep anywhere, on anything. He is one of the most laid-back kids, according to my friends. You will be doing things and not realize he is in the room.

Kiki, Delphi, Alisa, you're it!

Lauren tagged me on this one:
6 random facts about me:
1. I am 5 feet, 11 inches tall.
2. I am not much a phone person.
3. I have not once regretted the decision to stay at home with my kids.
4. I heart people who practice good grammar. Good grammar is free.
5. I know that my children will grow up and call me crazy. I'm fine with that.
6. I love people who are real.

Whoever wants to do this, do it!

Those were lame. Sorry, kids.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


A friend of mine equated Obama with the White Witch in the Chronicles of Narnia. "YES!" I told her. "That's it exactly!!!!!!" She tells Edmund all his troubles are gone if he will just try the Turkish Delight. We all know what happens next (if you don't, get to reading!).

Obama sounds wonderful and says words we all want to hear about bringing the country together. He never really says anything beyond that. I have always had a problem with never hearing HOW, exactly, he was going to get these things done.

Now that his pastor of 20 years has come out with some of the most horrific hate speech I have ever heard, and it took a conservative radio talk show host to figure it out before any of the major networks caught on, it has me wondering.

If this were John McCain's pastor, this talk would be called "horrific hate speech", and not "firey Anti-American remarks." This whole situation would crack me up were it not so pathetically a lame, sign of the postmodern trash heap times we live in. '

Racism is racism is racism.

So anyway, we're left with one of two options.

1. Obama ISN'T smart. His pastor is a raging moron who spews venom about the holocaust not really happening and how we must rid the world of whites. Obama sits in church, week after week. This pastor is "like a father" to him, he baptized his children and married he and his wife.

2. Obama IS smart. The whole reason we've heard nothing but ear candy the past several months is because he has a much bigger agenda, one that will only take place when he is president. The guy links to the black panther party from his website. Do you know who the black panthers are? He shines the big hot spotlight on race, and more specifically, race as it relates to our Sunday worship. How very clever. I don't know, Senator Obama, I've NEVER heard my pastor tell us that we must rid the world of blacks. And if he did, I'd be out of there faster than you can say, "Get a handle on this blasted cat, Jim Crow."

He tells us we are being small-minded when we focus once more again on this brow-beaten subject. He throws his grandma under the bus by telling us that she is white and she has said inflammatory things about black men. But she's his grandma, so he can't disown her, he says. Jeremiah Wright is his pastor; he can't disown him.

I don't want someone like this leading my country. He either has very bad judgement or he is very deceptive. I am teetering on the edge of my seat to see how all of this plays out.

The thing that scares the hell out of me is how eloquent and believable his speeches are. Isn't that how the antiChrist is always portrayed? **shudder**

(No, I am not suggesting that Obama is the Antichrist. I am drawing a feeble parallel.)


Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Easter Baskets

So, what did you get in your Easter Basket as a small, angst-filled child (oh wait, that was me)? We had stellar Easter baskets growing up. What do you have this year for your kids' Easter Baskets?

Since I am cheap, I haven't gotten Lucy an Easter basket the past two years. This year, as she sits in her little toddler class in church, I KNOW they're going to ask the kids what they got in their Easter baskets, and I think it'd be pretty craptacular for her to shrug and say, "Nothing!"

So, here's the lineup (the word linking to each item is what I thought while buying it):

Asher will get nothing.

Lucy will get:

I will eat them all
Diego and carcinogens - the perfect combination
If a 5 pound dog lives to 16 and a 75 pound dog lives to 10, how long does a 30,000 pound dog live?
dear God no
well, she WAS making out with it at Lily's birthday party

And of course, we will talk about the resurrection. Nothing like consumerism and Jesus, no? As an aside, I told her that she gets 10 dimes each week and we should give 1 to Jesus every Sunday in church. A few hours later she said, "Mom, Jesus could sure have ALL my coins!"

Now, tell me about your Easter baskets/traditions?

Monday, March 17, 2008

photos (blurry and random)

OK, so this is going to be a boring post, but I do print this stuff off for my children, so if you don't want to read about what we did this weekend, I understand!
Friday we played with my friend Jess and her wonderful children, E and G. They are delightful. E is hilarious (Scott asked me why, and I described her as very intense - she's not quite sure what she wants to be doing next, but she's sure she wants to be doing SOMETHING." We noticed it was quiet in Lucy and Asher's room, and when I went in there, there were 9 open packages of baby wipes and baby wipes EVERYWHERE. G is SO good. He will sleep and decide it's time to eat, then snuggle up again.

We also went to Lily's 3rd birthday party, where all of the little girls Lily's age gather to get a photo. I think we've done it all 3 years so it will be fun to watch them grow! Rachel always does a great party!!!!!!!!!!

I have decided to cut out all suger but 50 calories a day. I just spelled sugar wrong and I'm not going to change it, because sugar spelled that way is sort of funny. I've noticed I've become obsessed with my weight. I think alot of it is because at this point that's one thing I CAN control. Still, not healthy. I made Scott take a picture of me the other day so I could see what I looked like. I will have to get a comparison shot 30 pounds heavier.
Last week we went to my cousin Amy's house, and she made some WONDERFUL chili. The girls also love playing...

Lucy's first dental appointment today; we're going to Disney on Ice this week as well. I'll have to staunch the flow of blood from her nose the entire time because we're sitting up that high. She's going to love me when she is 16 and wants me to buy her concert tickets.

I'm going out today to buy a camera and a stereo for my 29th birthday and for our 5th wedding anniversary. We actually get to go to a hotel this weekend, with a jacuzzi and a gourmet restaurant! YIPPEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

p.s. I'm not PG, I was just speaking in hypotheticals. I THINK I someday want 3 children, but we all know what God does when we tell Him our plans. Anyway, Scott says 3 children can be done in this house, but I'm not so sure...

So, how are you?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Monday, March 10, 2008


Have you seen those little girls' Easter dresses at TJ Maxx with a matching doll dress? They are 14.99 and I am getting one for Lucy. DARLING.

Saturday I was a bitch on wheels. BITCH ON WHEELS. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I was truly a bitch on wheels. You know those sketches where there's a psychotic woman yelling, "STOP BREATHING!" because everyone around her is annoying? Yeah, that was me. Scott was beside himself trying to figure out how to placate me. Thank you, abilify. Notice that the psychiatrist gave me a freaking anti-psychotic? Niiiiice. And look at the side effects... tardive diskenesia - where you just begin these random neruological movements. Sometimes they don't stop, even after you've quit taking the medication! Let's also not forget neuroleptic malignant syndrome, which probably involves flailing limbs and an inability to form cogent thought. I didn't hear the end of it from Scott, who was a little concerned I was taking a medication for schizophrenics. Nothing against schizophrenics, mind you, it's just that, well, seems as though those drugs would be pretty strong ones.

So I told the shrink that the first time I took Abilify I laid in bed all night, stared at the ceiling, thought of creative Christmas presents for every person I knew for the next SEVENTY FIVE YEARS. I imagined the names of my grandchildren and added them to the list. I was wide awake. She just lowered the dose this week, and on Saturday I couldn't stand anyone touching me. When Scott looked at me, I got pissed off. If Lucy or Asher spilled something, I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. We had these gift certificates for a restaurant I wanted to go to and I couldn't get it out of my mind that I wanted to go there. Never mind the fact that we went the night before. Abilify made my obsessions and ruminations worse. Scott made a really bad tuna casserole to try and pacify me. That's another story in itself. So, no more Abilify.

It's been a good few days. We're trying to decide whether or not to put off Lucy's surgery. It's more than I want to get into here, but basically, it's going to be weeks and months of recovery and change. And I really don't know that I want to turn my 3 year old's world upside down. The procedure we would have done isn't something that NEEDS to be done right now, so we're weighing waiting on it for a few years. IF we wait a few years, there's a possibility we would sell our house this spring. This is exciting to me, because I've been looking at different houses and imagining us in them. And it's fun! And also because I can't imagine us with 3 children in our current house. And neither can Scott. So, there's that.

I'm beginning to be obsessed with weight. Ok, not really beginning. But I am at my goal weight and I keep hearing this little voice in my head (not audible, you know what I mean - please don't direct me back toward the Abilify) that says, "Just two pounds more! Just two pounds more!" As if 2 pounds makes all the happy difference in the world?

This week is full of playdates, one every day - we went to my cousin's today. I love playdates. They make me forget about my stupid worries. Getting together with friends is something I need. Desperately.

I made Asher wait to get his diaper changed for an hour while I shopped at the Gap. I had no more diapers. He had a turd in his pants the size of Long Island, turns out. Sorry, buddy. And I didn't even end up getting those pants I wanted. Now I'm looking for them on Ebay.

My cousin moved to my city today! All of us, in true Smith* style, are sending the welcome wagon over to, well, welcome her. I got her a new journal in which to write all of her experiences. I hope she likes it. And it just dawned on me that she reads this blog - well, she's probably not reading today. Welcome Tam!

And you, how are you?

*Real maiden name not used.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

a good day

I feel blessed today. I went to the mall and met my friend who had a miscarriage last year and is now 7 months pregnant with a little boy. We walked up and down the baby aisles in Target and dreamt about her baby. We talked names and breast pumps and staying at home.

Today is a warm, sunny day. As I got into my old car to go to my small house brimming with love, I couldn't help but feel blessed. As a messy little baby greeted me with his hair all akimbo and his pajamas on wrong and a little girl dumped the crayons all over the ground and their father watched basketball on tv, I felt the blessing cover me as the sunlight irreverently ignored the fingerprints on the living room window. It made its delighting dance to my shoulders and rested there.

After all we have been through with Lucy, because of it, I feel blessed. Today is a good day.

Friday, March 7, 2008

shop girl

Dear little Daughter of Mine,

Today we went to the mall. You rode in the stroller quietly in front of your little brother while I got my exercise, then we browsed the clearance rack at T.J. Maxx. You couldn't believe your great fortune when you stumbled upon a book entitled Diego's Hallowween - stickers were included! It was only $0.70, so you were delighted that you still had some of your allowance dimes left over. It's so strange to stand there and count money with you. How can a baby count coins, or insist on pushing the Handicap button that opens the store door, or negotiate with me on who should buy the Dora fruit snacks?

You wanted to buy a picture frame, but I was a tad dubious.

You were pacified when I suggested we take photos of each other instead. You had trouble waiting for your turn.

Asher slept.

We wandered past Bath and Body works and you insisted, as usual, upon testing their new scent. 4 ounces of it.

Forgive me for unwittingly catching my favorite part of the day on video.

I knew it, I knew it, I KNEW IT.

There have been 2 situations in the last 3 months where I had an intuition about something and others tried to convince me I was the one overreacting.

In both situations, my original "gut feel" turned out to be right in the end. I am slightly angry with myself for even allowing someone else to make me feel like I was wrong. I should be old enough to know that at 28 I have experienced that 'feeling' enough times to know that when I feel it, I need to trust it.

Whether it be an interpersonal situation, avoiding the elevator because I don't like the vibe coming from the person waiting in it, or a situation where I need to protect my family, I will never, EVER again let someone else convince me not to go with my "gut". And I will never again apologize for following it.

Do you get strong GUT feelings? Are they usually right?

Thursday, March 6, 2008


I don't know what it was about today - was it my daughter pouring the entire salt shaker into her new yogurt? Asher wasting his $6.10 a gallon organic milk (yes, I am clearly a nut) by throwing his sippy on the floor? Was it Lucy whining about Dora and Elmo needing another bath in the kitchen sink every 5 seconds? Was it the constant snot stream I valiantly fought with baby wipes and tissues? What did I do all day when I only had one child? How could I have EVER thought it was hard? And what do people with THREE kids think when I say two is hard?

Tuesday, I was Supermom. "I could have 3 or even 4 children! I'm good at this!" I thought. Today, they went to bed at 7. I actually USED the "count to 10" method and had to count longer than to 10 - triple digits. I don't like getting no sleep. It makes me cranky and it makes me a bad mother.

A bad mother with a sudden penchant for red wine.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

never be the same

Today I went to my shrink's office and the man who checked me in was a big burly hairy man. He was sporting what looked to be Lee Press-On Nails. It was interesting to see his hairy knuckles and then the clean white lines of his french manicure. I will never be the same.

Somewhere in my city, there is a big burly man clicking away on his computer keys. We blog together, only his entry says, "Dude, there was this 6 foot tall chick with a unibrow in the office today. I will never be the same."

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

socialism, part d

Oh, internets. How I have missed you. Our internet has not worked for two whole days (or so it seems to me). Last night I am sure my husband was disapointed when he came home and the house was not clean and I started singing "One More Try" by the infamous Timmy T. I only stopped when his ears began bleeding. It's been years since I've thought of that song. What gives? I am looking for it online so TT can grace us with his indelible presence. I remember my older brother hiding in his 7th grade closet and listening to this tape cassette over and over again until TT began sounding like an outed rat. Ah, the world of 7th grade divorces.

I've been thinking alot about my position on the socialistic (is that a word?) direction in which this country is heading and here is what I've found the root of it to be. First of all, I have been clinically diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, so I become obsessed with things like socialism and lip gloss and folding the used diaper a certain way.

So, here we go again. Feel free to click here if you've had enough. "Ah, that was a dirty trick," said the bard, "a dirty trick indeed." (I have no idea if the bard really ever did say that, but it sort of made me sound marginally smart, right?)

So. My problem is not helping out the needy. My problem is being the member of a society whose fundamental belief is that people are intrinsically good. I do not believe that. I believe that when you give people things and do not expect them to work for those things, the majority of people are going to take it and hold the hand out for more. The majority of people are not going to say, "Oh, this? This is for the common good? I should pay it forward? All right!" So. Then they are going to take some more. And some more, and some more.

Socialism's fatal flaw is that you are not teaching the man to fish, you are setting him up to be dependent upon you for it every day, from cradle to grave. Socialism creates victims. Socialism robs man of dignity. Socialism robs man of choice. WHY CAN PEOPLE NOT SEE THIS. **Pulls teeth out one by one with bare hands** I hate that, and I will do everything within my power to raise my voice against it. When a woman on welfare (this woman is not pretend; she goes to my church and we had a conversation about it in this nursing mothers' room) does not want to go off of it and get a job because she is making more ON welfare than she would flipping burgers, that is a problem. That is a problem that I have not heard addressed by any socialist I know with a cogent argument. That frustrates me. I hear, "Well, no system is perfect." That's right, no system is perfect. Our current system is not perfect, but at least we have choice in the matter right now, eh? I am just flabbergasted that thinking people trust our government to make their healthcare choices for them. Lemmings. Lemmings.

It is really, really scary. I am flabbergasted that a majority of the population is being lulled into a sedated comfort by the ear candy from the Pez Dispenser Barack Obama. Did you ever notice that you can listen to him speak for 30 minutes and go away from it not knowing if he said anything at all? For as much as I can't stand Hillary, she DOES have ideas. But McCain will get my vote, because he is the lessest of the trifecta of ignorance and evil.

I think I have been waking up to all of this garbage because I now have children and I am scared for them. I am angry that there are so many illegal immigrants that are on government aid, in our schools, etc., using my children's resources for themselves. Hear me, vixens, and hear me WELL. I have NOT ONE problem with immigrants. LEGAL immigrants. Immigrants who follow the driving rules and tax codes and We were all immigrants at one time or another. But these people are breaking the law, and no one seems to have a problem with it. That infuriates me. A friend told me that I should be more worried about people who evade paying their taxes than people on WIC for years and years or people who are here illegally and get free insurance from the government. So does one evil make the other ok?

I really do get so frustrated with all of this that sometimes I just have to turn the news off. The middle class will pay for all of this and get nothing in return, but I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. And where does it end? YOu have a bigger house than I do. That's not fair. It's because you work for the big, evil business that you have a big house. Hey, how about we sell your house and buy us both equal houses of the same size with that money? Isn't this socialism? Am I wrong here? Anyway, it all drives me crazy. And this is my future, my children's future. And I can hardly sit by idly as my country slides into a dark night.

I believe the founding fathers are rolling in their graves. (I am just waiting for someone to ask me if I believe in slave ownership, since I am looking up to the founding fathers - go ahead, just ask.) I am also waiting for someone to tell me to stop the "hate speech". I love how any dissenting opinion is now viewed as "hate speech". Way to shut the conversation down. I'd better not read any more George Orwell today. :)

By the way, the other night my sister in law asked me if I really believed that the Pentagon was hit by an airplane. I asked her if she believed that the Holocaust was historical fact, and she just sort of looked at me.

As an aside, I am so glad that my senators are working hard to fix the problems of gang violence, domestic abuse, and drunk drivers in my state - and in my city, especially! Oh wait, they aren't. Well, my shoulders will feel a little bit lighter as my head hits the pillow this PM. I suppose I should be fitted for some dentures so I can replace the teeth pulled out earlier in this post

P.S. If you're going to post, be nice. I love me some good debate, and I really wish we could have some more comments from proponents of socialism (hint, hint, to you people out there who have more knowledge on it than I do!)

Sunday, March 2, 2008

top names

If you go to this site, there is an awesome page that shows you the top baby names currently for your city or even where your child was born! It's a super fun site, but a warning. It's a bit addictive.

The top ones for my city:

Girl Names:

1. Addison
2. Ava
3. Alexis
4. Emma
5. Olivia
6. Sophia
7. Isabella
8. Emily
9. Elizabeth
10. Madison

Boy Names

1. Anthony
2. Jacob
3. Gavin
4. Benjamin
5. John
6. Elijah
7. Owen
8. Charles
9. Kevin
10. Jackson

finer moments

I love the comments section in the post below. I love these discussions!

THe turd burd has arrived in Asher's pants - one momento..

Ok, this came from my friend Jess... 7 random things about me.

1) I have always been philosophical. I love philosophy and am annoyed by people who don't question things and just accept this or that because someone else tells them it is so.

2) I like to mix the macaroni, powdered cheese sauce, milk, and melted butter together and eat it all uncooked and raw.

3) I am constantly thinking of new names that I like. I love names. In fact, I may go and buy some fish today so that I can name them. We were sitting around at the retreat, and two girls I was sitting with said, "Who thinks of how your kids initials go together? That's so weird!" I raised my head and told them that I absolutely think about that. They told me I'm weird.

4) I am clumsy. Painfully clumsy. I am unorganized. My greatest asset is also my greatest flaw.

5) I DETEST that clicking noise that people make when they swallow. I hate it. When Scott drinks I will make noise with paper or something so I don't have to hear it. It is so annoying.

6) I was actually standing in the aisle today, trying to decide which was the better deal: 40 multi-size Target brand band-aids for 150, or 30 all of the same size for 99cents. I have truly arrived.

7) I have OCD. The kind of OCD where if I don't put a cup a certain way in the dish washer someone will die. I am good at covering it up so people don't notice. It sucks.

I said "I" about 35 times in the last 4 minutes of typing. I, I, I, I, and I. Blogging lends itself brilliantly to narcissicm, don't you think?

The womens' retreat was great, except for that part where I had to leave and take Lucy to the hospital because she was urin*ating blood. OH, and the 8 hours in the ER, and the 2 where the nurses were running around and she was screaming and banging her head against the wall and I was ready to break into the medicine arsenal and just dump the morphine in her IV myself. I actually sort of kind of got mean. If you consider saying, "Could you please give her the medication now and then we can continue talking about what you had for dinner last night?" mean. I never want to go through a day like yesterday again. I have seen others in pain, but this was horrendous.

Hmmm, what else. I love this whole green/socialism debate. No one has yet been able to tell me how I am going to get greater medical care through social medicine. Oh wait, it's not about me, right? It's about the populace as a whole. Is there such a thing as liberal fascism? I think I've found it. There will be no competition in socialized medicine. It will be like getting a heart transplant at the DMV. How does it benefit? Please, someone? Anyone? Answer me. I don't get it. Am I missing something? I want to be wrong. Please tell me I'm wrong. Because the alternative is just way too scary - and let's just say I hope no one I love gets cancer under this new plan.

I went for a walk this afternoon and was thinking of so many things to write here (a sign of a true and complete nerd), but I forgot.

My mom was with me all day yesterday. She even heard me in one of my finer moments, dropping the "f" bomb. Sorry mom. You must really love me.