Friday, October 29, 2010

Mixing the good and evil

Being a Christian is like being a pumpkin. God picks you from the patch and washes the dirt off of you. He cuts off the top and scoops out all the yucky stuff. He removes the seeds of doubt, hate and greed. He carves you a new smiling face and puts his light inside of you to shine for all the world to see. This was passed on to me by another pumpkin. Now it's your turn to pass on to the pumpkins in your patch!

I LOVE when my friends post AWESOME little things like this on Facebook!

Impaired Logic

It makes so much sense to me. I hope those who are elected/re-elected help put something like this into effect. There are WAY more people than we think "driving impaired/distracted". Here is a link to the entire article. I HIGHLY suggest you read it.

“People sometimes focus on how many drinks they can have before they’ll go to jail,” Acevedo told The Austin-American Statesman. “It varies…. A person may be intoxicated at 0.05, and you don’t want them out driving.” What he wants is to be able to arrest people with blood-alcohol levels as low as 0.05 percent, and he may have support.

Houston Democrat John Whitmire, chair of the Senate’s Criminal Justice Committee, says Acevedo’s plan “might be one way to go.” Bill Lewis, head of the Texas chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Driving says, “I don’t see how it would hurt.”

They are right, although probably not in the way they intended. People do react to alcohol differently. For many people, one drink may well be too many, while experienced drinkers can function relatively normally at or above the legal threshold. Impairment may also depend on such variables as the medications a person is taking or how much sleep he got the night before.

What their objection to the legal definition of intoxication highlights is the absurdity of drawing an arbitrary, Breathalyzer-based line between sobriety and criminal intoxication. The right solution is not a new artificial line. Instead, we should get rid of it entirely by repealing drunken-driving laws.

Consider the 2000 federal law that pressured states to lower blood-alcohol standards to 0.08 from 0.10. At the time, the average level in alcohol-related fatal accidents was 0.17 percent, and two-thirds of such accidents involved drivers at 0.14 or higher. In fact, drivers between 0.01 and 0.03 were involved in more fatal accidents than drivers between 0.08 and 0.10. Once the 0.08 standard took effect nationwide, a curious thing happened: Alcohol-related traffic fatalities increased, following a 20-year decline. Critics of the 0.08 standard predicted this would happen. The problem is that most motorists between 0.08 and 0.10 don’t drive erratically enough to be noticed by police. So police began setting up roadblocks to catch them. But every cop manning a roadblock was a cop not out on the highways looking for more seriously impaired drivers. By 2004, alcohol related fatalities went down again, but only because the decrease in fatalities in states that don’t use roadblocks compensated for a slight but continuing increase in the states that do.

A gadget-lover's lament

I know the article is rather long, but the whole thing is worth sharing. I totally agree with him. It was hard getting rid of U-Verse and the internet, but we have been able to get so much more done at home and spend more quality time together. We have ALL become addicted to technology, and it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for people to start cutting back some. Here is a link to the whole article.

My wife and I are half-watching the ballgame on TV, because the Texas Rangers are up by six when the commercial comes on – a shiny new car, so advanced that it parallel parks so you don’t have to. It’s the second time I’ve seen it in two days. “That’s crazy,” I say. “What happens when it goes out?” “What are you talking about?” “This!” I jab my hand at the screen and shake my head. “We’re becoming useless!” Something about the commercial fills me with an old fear. When I was growing up, my family had a car with manual transmission. When my mother and I took trips, I was often afraid that something terrible would happen to her and I’d be forced to drive us to get help. The thing was, I didn’t know how to drive a stick. More and more, people drove cars with automatic transmissions, so I’d never learned how. When I look over, I realize that my wife has missed the commercial. Her face is lit by her cell phone’s blue glow. Facebook or work e-mails or cute animals.I think that all of these “advances” – the gadgets that clutter our lives with beeps are not only dumbing us down, they’re slowly making people helpless. I am by no means a Luddite. I love all my gadgets – the cell phone, Kindle, iPod, and laptops. On my computer, I can watch any Major League Baseball game I want, anytime. With video chat, I get to see my godson Miles even though he lives in Minnesota. Daily, I receive vivid photos of everything that’s picked from my folks’ garden via e-mail. Because of bleeding in my brain, I had brain surgery in 1999; the fallout from the procedure made some of this technology almost essential. As someone with a visual disability, I’m incredibly grateful for what technology has done for me.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Why Women Are Crabby

We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old, only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender and blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, cramped, got the hormone crankies, and had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.

Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we peed our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed nether regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain, all the way to the ER.

Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, 'Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar. Calm down and push. 'Just one more good push' (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the %$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it was time to raise those angels, only to find that when all that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.

Then come their 'Teen Years'. Need I say more?

When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.

So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned 'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...

So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the 'weaker sex?' Yeah right. Bite me.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

7 Stages of My New Butt

• Stage 1 - Denial - This isn't a new butt. It's the same awesome butt you had the day you got married.
• Stage 2 - Shock - Well, it's technically the same butt, but for some reason it doesn't fit into the pants you wore last year - before you got pregnant. But there's no way your butt could be so drastically altered by having a baby. Could it? OMG!
• Stage 3 - Anger - Fine. It's not the same butt. It has curves and divots and new places that sweat. It follows you wherever you go. Stupid, annoying butt and its stupid, annoying cellulite! Is it possible to get a restraining order to prevent it from stalking you?
• Stage 4 - Depression - No dice. It turns out you can't get a restraining order against your own body. And if you inquire about it people laugh at you. And that makes you cry. As do the elastic-waist pants you just bought, even though you are 9 months postpartum. Those lying liars who said "nine months on, nine months off" must have gotten to keep their original cute butt.
• Stage 5 - Guilt - You are a grown woman. You have a degree. You know that women should be - and are - more than just hot bodies. You know objectification is cruel. You've read the magazine articles that tell you how awesome you are. You created life. And yet…this butt. IT WON'T GO AWAY.
• Stage 6 - Fear - You probably have Flesh Expanding Butt Disease. It's very rare, but it you get FEBD your butt will eventually consume your entire body, preventing you from leading a normal life. There is no cure for this horrible ailment. Best to just go buy a bunch of sweatpants.
• Stage 7 - Acceptance - Right. So it isn't that bad, really. Your new butt does come with some nice features. It's easier to close the car door now. Your kids have something nice to hang on when you're at the grocery store. And your husband likes it. A lot. In fact, your new butt is kind of growing on you...

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I Pray You Enough

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged, and the mother said, 'I love you, and I pray you enough.'

The daughter replied, 'Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I pray you enough, too, Mom.'

They kissed, and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'

Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'

'Well...I'm not as young as I once was, she lives so far away &has her own busy life. I have some challenges ahead, and the reality is - her next trip back will be for my funeral,' she said.

'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I pray you enough.' May I ask what that means?'

She began to smile. 'That's a prayer that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.' She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and she smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I pray you enough,' we wanted the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.'

Then, turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I pray you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I pray you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I pray you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I pray you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I pray you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I pray you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I pray you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

Then, she began to cry, and walked away.

They say, it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them.


To all my friends and loved ones,

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

A Poem off a clothing tag

Grow slow, my daughters.

Take your time, my sons.

The world has a lot to offer

Even a wee one like you.

Make the right steps

One at a time, not two.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Been Busy

I know I've made a few posts lately, but none with real updates on how we are doing so here ya go.

Genevieve is doing good. She has finally cut several teeth(3) and is working on a couple more. She's cruising around holding on the furniture and will be walking around in no time at all. Genevieve has already started refusing to eat jarred food and prefers to eat whatever we are. Genevieve had a DRs appointment on September 7th. She was 18lbs 12oz, 28in long, and had a 16.5in head. I think they messed up on measuring her head, because that is smaller than I remember at her 6mo appointment. Her pediatrician was concerned about her weight anymore, so we are all good in that department.

Dianna is doing really good with potty training and hasn't had an accident in several days. I guess if she makes it to Saturday, we can consider her potty trained. =)

I'm doing good too. I have an interview with UPS tomorrow morning. It'd be a hard job, but it would be a little extra money in our pocket and some time away from the girls to regain my sanity. Granted it's the presort shift(3a-9am), so it would definitely jack with our schedule. The girls and I would have to be in bed, asleep, no later than 10pm. We'll see how well I can stand getting up at 2am.

Mike is doing good as well. His back is doing better, and the PT has said that they have done all they can for him. The back DR gave him a referral to a chiropractor, so we are waiting to hear if it was approved. His 25th birthday is next Monday, so it's time to see if I can come up with a good homemade present for him before then.

We aren't really happy with the apartment complex we are living in, so we were looking for a house that we could lease/rent-to-own but it doesn't look like that is going to happen anytime soon. We are going to be in this complex until at least the car is paid off, which will probably be at tax time. I think we will probably get a minivan before we get a house, because a minivan is going to be cheaper than a house, unless it is a foreclosure. I think what we will do is save up for a minivan until 2012 or 2013, so we can just buy it straight out.

I am a dodo. I totally forgot my original reason for this post until about 3 or 4 hours after I originally posted it. We are trying to save some money and concentrate on other more important things in our lives, so we are disconnecting U-Verse and internet until after tax time. That means unless a neighbor is nice enough to let us hijack their wireless, the only time we will be able to connect is at my dad's house. I'll be over there 1x a week(at least) until my grandma leaves to go back home just before Thanksgiving. We will still be able to post status updates for Facebook from Mike's cell phone, but that is all it is good for.