Yeah, I need to figure out what to write about on this blog. Because… well, I want people to read it. Not just once, but to want to come back and read it again. Then, to comment on it. Why? I don’t know. Kudos, I suppose. Pats on the back. I don’t get enough of that, and I really feel a need for it.
What sounds interesting to you?
…yeah. It’s late. I’m tired. That’s all I have to say for tonight.
One of the (few) things I miss from our time living in Virginia are the groundhogs. Dang, those little buggers are soooo cute! Everytime we saw one, Kiki and I wanted to go give it a big sqwuunch. Didn’t really figure they’d like it much, tho, so we never gave it a go.
We have rockchucks here… kind of look the same, but a lot smaller. Not quite so sqwuuchable looking, somehow.
Love the movie!
Happy Groundhog Day! Hope your winter is short!
Well, I haven’t caved yet. Still eating “ultra healthy”… at least in one group’s opinion. Does this bother you as much as it bothers me? You know, how “they” tell you that something is what you should eat, only to have “them” tell you a year later that you should never eat that?? Geez, how are we supposed to know?! I really wonder if my current deal is really the right deal… time will tell, I guess….
Anyway, Kiki and I went out shopping today, just for fun. We really, really wanted someting yummy to eat while we were out and about, but we behaved ourselves. What we did get were iced lattes. Generally, I am a mocha kind of girl. Or at least a flavored latte… oooh, like almond! But any form of sugar is out (and no, ‘sugar-free’ syrup has never been an option for me… I can’t stand that chemical stuff.) So plain old lattes it was. It wasn’t bad… when you’ve had no sugar at all, the sugar in the milk is kind of alright… No. Actually, I’d really, really have rather had a mocha.
Is there a light at the end of this tunnel??
This is me. Cranky. Chewin’ on my own self ’cause I am so hungry.
Holey crap. They’re all watching it. Opa, Oma, Alan. Not me, though. Not Kiki. Ugh, booooring. I know, I should be more of a grown-up, eh? Sorry, but I don’t care for our current POTUS. And it has nothing to do with his genetics. It’s his politics I don’t care for. And this is NOT a political blog, so don’t be leaving me nasty comments on why he is the best ever. We just have to agree to disagree. And it’s my blog and I don’t have to put up with it – ha! Okay, I’ll admit it… tonight I am sick, we just started a new diet so I’m hungry, therefore I am cranky. He’s probably not all bad. Maybe.
What has irritated me – no, I’m not watching, but I can hear it! – is that he has said at least half a dozen times or more that “the current financial crisis is over”… the recession is over? Really? When did that happen?? Because it’s not over here. Not where I live, not at all. I guess he hasn’t been paying attention to my state. Because we still can’t find jobs. We still have to live with mom and dad. We can still barely afford to put gas in our car. The value of homes here is pathetic.
Ah, dang. If only I could have a cookie, I would feel much more optimistic!
Here is what I think… it must be normal. Simply a stage children go through as they develop. How did I come up with this (completely unscientific and possibly unfounded) theory? This bit of brilliance in parenting? Web searches. Yep, that’s right, web searches. See, years ago (about 3 to be exact, back when my own daughter was a 10 year old) I blogged about how she was having trouble sleeping, how she seemed to have insomnia. Well, in the three weeks or so since I moved this blog to WordPress, I have noticed something really interesting… on the ‘dashboard’ page there is a spot that tells you the sorts of things people have searched for that got them to click on your blog… and by far, the search that has directed the most traffic to my blog is something along the lines of “why does my 10 year old have insomnia?” Okay, so it’s really weird, but I’m thinking that if my daughter had that trouble at that age, and it seems a whole lot of other parents are searching for answers to that question, well, it must be a pretty common occurance. My own daughter just grew out of it; it lasted a few stressful months and then life moved on.
So, on that premise I am going to say to you, parent of a 10 year old insomniac, who got to this blog from a web seach – your kid is okay. In fact, probably pretty normal. Try to get some rest for yourself if you can, and I bet in not too long of awhile, you will all be sleeping soundly!
I am not loving being old. Well, old-er. I don’t feel old… well, mentally. Physically, yeah… I could be 80. But mentally I still think I am about 30 or so. Not nearly 50. When I talk to another adult, I don’t think “geez, I could be this person’s mom” although quite often that’s the case. I think of us as peers; then I find out this person was a junior high school student of my brother-in-law, and still can’t bring themself to call him by his first name… even tho they now have three kids of their own! It’s so weird. My husband and I were talking about this today… he is kind of a kidder, and he has always talked to people the same way (a little sarcastic, to be honest) and he says suddenly he is realizing that with the younger women he gets this strange look like he’s “that creepy old guy”…. and he’s not creepy – honest! I guess it just comes across wrong when he is talking to 20-somethings… our 40-and-over crowd find him completely hilarious. sigh. I wonder sometimes if it’s because we had our daughter so late in life, because most of her friend’s parents are at least a decade younger than me; most of my ‘same-aged’ friends have children who are married… so, yeah, that makes it kind of weird. But I was talking to my mom about this the other day, and she said she still forgets how old she is until she looks in the mirror. Or spends too much time gardening and can barely get out of bed next morning. It’s just part of aging, I guess. The body gets old but the brain forgets to.
Of course, there is also the sad, hard part of getting old that is getting harder and harder to ignore. This is the fact that my parents are getting old as well. This was brought down on me like a load of bricks yesterday… because I spent the morning with my nearly 80 year old mom at the urgent care getting her head stitched up after she tripped over her slippers and split her head open. Mom has always been a “go-er” – she is like a little energizer bunny – but these days her mind is sometimes running faster than her body, I guess. It was awful watching her go down and not being able to get to her, and awful waiting while she got an xray to make sure she hadn’t broken anything in her neck (she says her head doesn’t really hurt at all, but her neck is pretty painful). And I hate this part. I mean, these are my parents who have always, always been there for me; been there to help me out in so many ways. It’s hard thinking that I will have to start taking care of them one day when they always have been so self-sufficient. Yeah, they’re doing great for nudging up to 80, but, still.
Then, there is still the humorous part. That’s the part happening right this very minute as I watch my dad and my husband both dozing in their chairs here in the middle of the day… my husband waking himself up each time he snores. Which is about every 5 minutes. Hmmm…. maybe we really are old!
From the outside I look like a fairly well-behaved girl. I generally do what I am supposed to do, without too much fussing. Not exterior fussing, anyway. Growing up, I almost always did what was expected of me, didn’t go off the deep end or anything. I was never a party girl, even though I thought that would be sooo much fun – way more exciting than the quiet, submissive life I was leading. That ended the night I took my dog for a walk past a huge, high school party that was happening right at the end of my street. I walked by on purpose, trying to catch a glimpse of “that life”. I saw a girl come out the front door – she was about the most popular girl in school. Perfect body, perfect skin, perfect hair. Cheerleader. Dating the big athlete. The girl I wanted to be. She stumbled down the porch steps; she was crazy drunk. She laughed to some of her friends then walked face-first *smack* into a tree in the yard. Hard. She fell backwards, crying. Her friends gazed at her, and since they were at least as drunk as she was, they just laughed and laughed… no one helped her up. There and then I decided I didn’t really want to be that girl. That maybe being myself wasn’t all that bad.
Still, I have this nasty rebellious streak in me. The kind that, when I am on my way to, oh, I don’t know, wash the dishes, will turn around and leave them dirty if my husband happens to say while I am walking to the sink something about am I just going to leave those dishes in the sink…. you big jerk, I was on my way but they might just stay there all week now!! No matter that I really want to wash them and put them away – now that you told me to, no way I’m gonna. Yeah, that kind of thing. Last week my small Bible study group was trying to pick a new book to read (no, not a book from the Bible… altho that would make sense, right? more of a book to, I don’t know, extend our knowledge? anyway…) so, someone had a suggestion, and some others hadn’t heard of that particular book, so someone pulled it up on their computer and read off a little synopsis of it… and I’ll tell you what. I have had several people tell me it’s a good book, and I had wanted to read it. But this reviewer made it sound like you’d have to be a complete jerk if you didn’t read it. Like you must want to be sub-par, complacent. I’m sure that isn’t the intent of their writing, but phoof… someone is going to have to make me read that book now, ’cause I sure as heck don’t plan on reading it willingly!!
Yeah, I am a pain in the butt like that. And my husband finds it rather hilarious to push that button… even though it usually backfires on him. He’s kinda dumb that way.