Just because something is legal does not mean it is not rude.
It is perfectly legal to bathe in stinky cat food and walk around a public crowded public park.
That does mean it wont annoy everyone you meet.
It is legal to burp your ABC's while walking through Walmart, but again- Rude!
Which brings me to bikers. Not Harley riders, not kids riding their ten speeds from their house to a friends, but the ones who wear spandex and ride their souped up road bikes up and down the road by my house.
I realize it is a good work out, and far it for me to begrudge someone burning 400 calories. But damn it, why do bike riders always have to ride on busy 2 lane roads and make me go 10 miles an hour just for their workout? Rudeness I tell ya.
I am glad it is snowing now. I shouldn't have to see another one for a good 3 months.
(Oh and while I am at it. Get off my lawn! *shakes cane out the door*)
Telling you what you should do since 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
On Queen Bees and Wannabees
I have been meaning to read a ton of books.
I probably wont.
When I do read I usually read garbage. Nice, fun, fluffy garbage.
One book I have been meaning to read, especially since I have a girl child, is Queen Bees and Wannabees. I checked it out from the library a couple years ago but only got around to glossing over it. I have been reading through reviews and summaries this morning, contemplating an Amazon buy.
It is a really interesting premise. Bascially, the author labels girls into different categories and gives advice to parents as to how to deal with each category and with various situations that typically arise.
I think the most interesting thing about the categories is how little women seem to change as they get older. In any playgroup or work setting I can pick out the Queen, the Sidekick, the Banker, ect, ect. I can also pick out which role I have played in various groups over my life. (Which interestingly is not the same role over the years.) It makes sense, really, that the social structure that we fall into at a formative age follows us around throughout our lives. Shoot, I bet it follows us to the nursing home.
While researching the book I found this little quiz.
Go ahead and take it. Girls like quizzes. YM conditioned us to love them in 7th grade.
I probably wont.
When I do read I usually read garbage. Nice, fun, fluffy garbage.
One book I have been meaning to read, especially since I have a girl child, is Queen Bees and Wannabees. I checked it out from the library a couple years ago but only got around to glossing over it. I have been reading through reviews and summaries this morning, contemplating an Amazon buy.
It is a really interesting premise. Bascially, the author labels girls into different categories and gives advice to parents as to how to deal with each category and with various situations that typically arise.
I think the most interesting thing about the categories is how little women seem to change as they get older. In any playgroup or work setting I can pick out the Queen, the Sidekick, the Banker, ect, ect. I can also pick out which role I have played in various groups over my life. (Which interestingly is not the same role over the years.) It makes sense, really, that the social structure that we fall into at a formative age follows us around throughout our lives. Shoot, I bet it follows us to the nursing home.
While researching the book I found this little quiz.
Go ahead and take it. Girls like quizzes. YM conditioned us to love them in 7th grade.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
On Frowns and Indian Burial Grounds
In an attempt to give myself some prompts to write about, I hereby decree that every Wednesday shall be Ben Folds Day. On such days I will take a line or two from Mr. Folds and spew out a post roughly prompted by it.
Ready?
Here we go. :)
"Hard to remember how we managed before
We could afford real or nervous breakdowns
Or before the Anthropologie store
Was erected on Indian burial grounds."- Frown Song, Ben Folds
A few months ago my husband and I took the kids to the Dickson Mounds museum. The Dickson Mounds are a series of Indian burial grounds. There is now a large Illinois State Museum nestled near (over?) them. The museum is home to lots of interesting artifacts and displays, despite being located in the middle of no where.
As we were driving to the museum the landscape turned from pretty much flat to hills. As we were pulling up we noted a couple cow farms perched on hilly land around the Mounds. Surely those were also burial grounds?
So my question is this: how do we tell hills from burial grounds without digging everything up? And does it matter if we build things over dead people.
I mean really, people have been around a long time. Odds are, especially in some part of the world, there is people (or evolutionary relatives of people) buried under lots and lots and lots of buildings. Does that matter? Why are some graves sacred and others abandoned? Other then from a anthropological view is there anything really sacred about the bones of the long dead?
I really don't have an answer, I just think it is something interesting to ponder. Why do the mounds half a mile over get a farmstead while the other mounds get a museum?
On a slightly related note, I think in 1000 years garbage dumps will totally be the less sacred equivalent Indian burial grounds. Big old hills, grown over with grass, hiding archeological goodies.
Just think, someday the broken curling iron I threw away this morning might end up in a museum. "And here we have a 20th-21st century metal rod used to curl hair."
If that ever happens I hope they fix the spring.
The Frown Song (swearing warning!):
Ready?
Here we go. :)
"Hard to remember how we managed before
We could afford real or nervous breakdowns
Or before the Anthropologie store
Was erected on Indian burial grounds."- Frown Song, Ben Folds
A few months ago my husband and I took the kids to the Dickson Mounds museum. The Dickson Mounds are a series of Indian burial grounds. There is now a large Illinois State Museum nestled near (over?) them. The museum is home to lots of interesting artifacts and displays, despite being located in the middle of no where.
As we were driving to the museum the landscape turned from pretty much flat to hills. As we were pulling up we noted a couple cow farms perched on hilly land around the Mounds. Surely those were also burial grounds?
So my question is this: how do we tell hills from burial grounds without digging everything up? And does it matter if we build things over dead people.
I mean really, people have been around a long time. Odds are, especially in some part of the world, there is people (or evolutionary relatives of people) buried under lots and lots and lots of buildings. Does that matter? Why are some graves sacred and others abandoned? Other then from a anthropological view is there anything really sacred about the bones of the long dead?
I really don't have an answer, I just think it is something interesting to ponder. Why do the mounds half a mile over get a farmstead while the other mounds get a museum?
On a slightly related note, I think in 1000 years garbage dumps will totally be the less sacred equivalent Indian burial grounds. Big old hills, grown over with grass, hiding archeological goodies.
Just think, someday the broken curling iron I threw away this morning might end up in a museum. "And here we have a 20th-21st century metal rod used to curl hair."
If that ever happens I hope they fix the spring.
The Frown Song (swearing warning!):
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
On Karaoke and Time Wasting
I love karaoke.
I spent the kid's "nap" time playing around on myspace karaoke.
Such a time suck.
You know you want to play too. :)
Don't laugh too much, please. :P
Ice Cream recorded by little buddha boy | -MySpace Karaoke
Cold Day In July recorded by little buddha boy | -MySpace Karaoke
I spent the kid's "nap" time playing around on myspace karaoke.
Such a time suck.
You know you want to play too. :)
Don't laugh too much, please. :P
Ice Cream recorded by little buddha boy | -MySpace Karaoke
Cold Day In July recorded by little buddha boy | -MySpace Karaoke
Monday, November 22, 2010
On Trainwrecks and the Interwebs
The interwebs are not private people.
It never ceases to amaze me what people will post about themselves on "private" boards or facebook pages and expect it to be kept a secret.
People gossip.
I have never met anyone who didn't. You can say you don't, but I wont believe you.
People are drawn to trainwrecks and drama. They almost can't help themselves. It is a sick sort of entertainment we all seem to have a sociological pull towards.
So do yourself a favor and please stop posting about your EPT'S, STD's, DUI's (or any other embarrassing acronyms) if you don't wish for all the world to know about them.
Or at least stop acting shocked that the world knows what you posted on the world wide web.
It never ceases to amaze me what people will post about themselves on "private" boards or facebook pages and expect it to be kept a secret.
People gossip.
I have never met anyone who didn't. You can say you don't, but I wont believe you.
People are drawn to trainwrecks and drama. They almost can't help themselves. It is a sick sort of entertainment we all seem to have a sociological pull towards.
So do yourself a favor and please stop posting about your EPT'S, STD's, DUI's (or any other embarrassing acronyms) if you don't wish for all the world to know about them.
Or at least stop acting shocked that the world knows what you posted on the world wide web.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
On Aliens and Unsolved Mysteries
I was once almost abducted by aliens.
It all started one evening when I was 9 or 10 years old. I think it was a Wednesday. I know for sure it was the night that Unsolved Mysteries was on. Man, I used to love that show. I was so sad when Robert Stack died. At ten I didn’t really hone in on the cheesiness of the reenactments, instead I felt like that show was letting me in on super secrets of the universe.
Aliens exist!
Ghosts walk down Chicago streets!
Missing people are frequently reunited with their families 20 years after going missing!
It was good stuff I tell ya. Good stuff.
So anyways, it was a night after I had just finished watching an Unsolved Mysteries which had featured an alien abduction. I went to bed, like normal, in my room which faced a quiet residential street.
Around 2:00 a.m. I was awakened by a bright strobing light flashing through both windows. I froze. This was it. I was being abducted by aliens. I don’t mind telling you I was scared beyond reason. I prayed wildly what ever experiments they were going to perform were going to be painless. I thought about calling out for my mom or dad, but I didn’t want to alert the aliens to my existence. Perhaps it was only my neighbors they wanted.
My plan was to lie stock still. For about 5 minutes it appeared to work. No extraterrestrial beings were ghosting into my room. So I got brave. I was going to get a peek at the U.F.O.
Now I was kind of excited. I was totally going to write into Unsolved Mysteries with my story. I quietly crept out of bed and over to the window. I pressed myself against the wall peeked around the window and cracked the blinds with my little hands. I fully expected to see a magnificent flying vessel parked in my front yard.
What I saw? Was emergency vehicles parked in front of my neighbors house.
Unsolved Mysteries was not interested in my story. ☹
It all started one evening when I was 9 or 10 years old. I think it was a Wednesday. I know for sure it was the night that Unsolved Mysteries was on. Man, I used to love that show. I was so sad when Robert Stack died. At ten I didn’t really hone in on the cheesiness of the reenactments, instead I felt like that show was letting me in on super secrets of the universe.
Aliens exist!
Ghosts walk down Chicago streets!
Missing people are frequently reunited with their families 20 years after going missing!
It was good stuff I tell ya. Good stuff.
So anyways, it was a night after I had just finished watching an Unsolved Mysteries which had featured an alien abduction. I went to bed, like normal, in my room which faced a quiet residential street.
Around 2:00 a.m. I was awakened by a bright strobing light flashing through both windows. I froze. This was it. I was being abducted by aliens. I don’t mind telling you I was scared beyond reason. I prayed wildly what ever experiments they were going to perform were going to be painless. I thought about calling out for my mom or dad, but I didn’t want to alert the aliens to my existence. Perhaps it was only my neighbors they wanted.
My plan was to lie stock still. For about 5 minutes it appeared to work. No extraterrestrial beings were ghosting into my room. So I got brave. I was going to get a peek at the U.F.O.
Now I was kind of excited. I was totally going to write into Unsolved Mysteries with my story. I quietly crept out of bed and over to the window. I pressed myself against the wall peeked around the window and cracked the blinds with my little hands. I fully expected to see a magnificent flying vessel parked in my front yard.
What I saw? Was emergency vehicles parked in front of my neighbors house.
Unsolved Mysteries was not interested in my story. ☹
Friday, November 19, 2010
On Homebirth and Controversy
And now for a rant that has been sticking in my craw for months.
Homebirth.
I support it. I think the current midwife legislation on the Illinois floor should pass. I think it is a beautiful and generally safe option for many women. All that said, I have no horse in this race. I wont be having any more children, and it is not an issue I feel strongly enough about to actively support with money or time.
However, just like hospital birth, homebirth comes with risks.
A have an acquaintance who recently had a very scary homebirth. Long story short, her baby was born without a heartbeat and after resuscitation has brain damage from a lack of oxygen. The mother did everything right as far as homebirthing goes. She had a certified nurse midwife. The baby was monitored periodically during labor. Ect. ect. Something bad just happened. Scary and heartbreaking stuff. It was not the mom's fault. It was not the midwife's fault.
I associate with a crowd that is very pro-homebirth. I have heard a lot of chatter about this birth and how it should not be considered a "homebirth gone bad". A fair number of people have said, "the same exact thing could have happened in a hospital". I really have to disagree with both statements. I will also go a step farther to say that making statements like that is harmful to the cause homebirthers are trying to promote.
Just like some births would have had a better outcome without hospital intervention, in this case, this homebirth would have most likely had a better medical outcome at a hospital with interventions. Trying to say otherwise makes people that are on the fence about homebirth or are against homebirth look at pro-homebirthers like they are crazier then they already think they are. If this was not a "homebirth gone bad" then I don't think (outside of the worst possible outcome) you can have a homebirth gone bad.
I get it. I get not wanting to give naysayers more ammunition against your casue. But in this case I think the best argument is not knee jerk denial, but an acknowledgment that all types of births carry risks, and that the birth referenced above is an unfortunate example of the very small percent of homebirths that have an unfortunate outcome. Just like there can be induction with negative outcomes, just like there are c-sections with negative outcomes.
Sometimes sad things just happen. Being an ostrich rarely helps.
Homebirth.
I support it. I think the current midwife legislation on the Illinois floor should pass. I think it is a beautiful and generally safe option for many women. All that said, I have no horse in this race. I wont be having any more children, and it is not an issue I feel strongly enough about to actively support with money or time.
However, just like hospital birth, homebirth comes with risks.
A have an acquaintance who recently had a very scary homebirth. Long story short, her baby was born without a heartbeat and after resuscitation has brain damage from a lack of oxygen. The mother did everything right as far as homebirthing goes. She had a certified nurse midwife. The baby was monitored periodically during labor. Ect. ect. Something bad just happened. Scary and heartbreaking stuff. It was not the mom's fault. It was not the midwife's fault.
I associate with a crowd that is very pro-homebirth. I have heard a lot of chatter about this birth and how it should not be considered a "homebirth gone bad". A fair number of people have said, "the same exact thing could have happened in a hospital". I really have to disagree with both statements. I will also go a step farther to say that making statements like that is harmful to the cause homebirthers are trying to promote.
Just like some births would have had a better outcome without hospital intervention, in this case, this homebirth would have most likely had a better medical outcome at a hospital with interventions. Trying to say otherwise makes people that are on the fence about homebirth or are against homebirth look at pro-homebirthers like they are crazier then they already think they are. If this was not a "homebirth gone bad" then I don't think (outside of the worst possible outcome) you can have a homebirth gone bad.
I get it. I get not wanting to give naysayers more ammunition against your casue. But in this case I think the best argument is not knee jerk denial, but an acknowledgment that all types of births carry risks, and that the birth referenced above is an unfortunate example of the very small percent of homebirths that have an unfortunate outcome. Just like there can be induction with negative outcomes, just like there are c-sections with negative outcomes.
Sometimes sad things just happen. Being an ostrich rarely helps.
On Growing Pains and Center Stages
I am still deciding if this blog is going to have a point or just be my very own center stage.
Honestly, I am leaning towards center stage. It is not like I am trying to make money off this and only you, my mom, and my sister are reading this.
There are a couple "themes" I could pull off. The first is obviously a parenting themed blog. By default, I will probably post a lot about my kids. I have lots of opinions about parenting crap. I don't like this idea though. I am more then a just a mom, and I like to talk about stuff besides my small people.
Next on the list is a "diary" type blog. Nope. Lean closer to me. I want to whisper something in your ear. The interwebs are public. So sorry, no diary here folks.
Cooking blog? nah.
So I guess this is going to be hodge podge.
*Flips on spotlight and coughs into the mic.*
Honestly, I am leaning towards center stage. It is not like I am trying to make money off this and only you, my mom, and my sister are reading this.
There are a couple "themes" I could pull off. The first is obviously a parenting themed blog. By default, I will probably post a lot about my kids. I have lots of opinions about parenting crap. I don't like this idea though. I am more then a just a mom, and I like to talk about stuff besides my small people.
Next on the list is a "diary" type blog. Nope. Lean closer to me. I want to whisper something in your ear. The interwebs are public. So sorry, no diary here folks.
Cooking blog? nah.
So I guess this is going to be hodge podge.
*Flips on spotlight and coughs into the mic.*
Thursday, November 18, 2010
On Play Silks and Plastic
Let us speak briefly about toys. As the mother of two small people, many toys reside in my house. I would love to tell you that I only let my kids play with hand crafted wood toys made from local artisans and bought at farmers markets. But, um yeah, actually I would not love to tell you that because then I would be someone I would secretly think was trying too hard.
Mom culture is sooooo competitive. I almost feel dirty telling you that 93% of my kids toys are made out of plastic. Many make noise, many play into "princess culture", many are aimed at directive vs. interpretive play. I will let you in on a secret. I am totally okay with this.
Sometimes, if I find myself in a group of women talking about the latest play silk co-op deal they found (Play silks are so awesome! They are hand dyed! They can pretend it is anything!) I will smile and nod. But inside I am giggling that they bought their kid a 20 dollar piece of fabric when the kid likely would have been just as happy with a cut up sheet.... or a barbie.
Mom culture is sooooo competitive. I almost feel dirty telling you that 93% of my kids toys are made out of plastic. Many make noise, many play into "princess culture", many are aimed at directive vs. interpretive play. I will let you in on a secret. I am totally okay with this.
Sometimes, if I find myself in a group of women talking about the latest play silk co-op deal they found (Play silks are so awesome! They are hand dyed! They can pretend it is anything!) I will smile and nod. But inside I am giggling that they bought their kid a 20 dollar piece of fabric when the kid likely would have been just as happy with a cut up sheet.... or a barbie.
Welcome!
Waves! This is my new blog. You may or (more likely) may not know me from my previous blog vegans who eat meat. I cannot promise frequent updates, but I will try to promise that I will try to entertain. I likes the funnies.
Some things you should know before you decide to make the HUGE commitment to follow my little blog:
- I don't care if I misspell some things. If you care this may not be the blog for you.
- I like the occasional swear. Seeing that my mom reads this I will (probably) not release my inner sailor, but if occasional slips of the tongue bother you this might not be the blog for you.
- I have an odd sense of humor that has a 50/50 shot of meshing with yours. If it doesn't I don't really want to hear how weird you think I am. I simply don't care. :P If this bothers you this might not be the blog for you.
- I like emoticons. :P :O :) I know they are annoying. If this bothers you this might not be the blog for you.
Now that all the riff raff has hit the little x button in the corner of their screens, only the awesome people are still reading this.
Now let's have some fun my little chick-a-dees.
Some things you should know before you decide to make the HUGE commitment to follow my little blog:
- I don't care if I misspell some things. If you care this may not be the blog for you.
- I like the occasional swear. Seeing that my mom reads this I will (probably) not release my inner sailor, but if occasional slips of the tongue bother you this might not be the blog for you.
- I have an odd sense of humor that has a 50/50 shot of meshing with yours. If it doesn't I don't really want to hear how weird you think I am. I simply don't care. :P If this bothers you this might not be the blog for you.
- I like emoticons. :P :O :) I know they are annoying. If this bothers you this might not be the blog for you.
Now that all the riff raff has hit the little x button in the corner of their screens, only the awesome people are still reading this.
Now let's have some fun my little chick-a-dees.
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