Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Conversation just now...

Him:  I understand the British, but why is this baby all over our news?

::blink, blink::

Me: Because not everyone is intelligent enough to know they should be getting their news from the BBC.

Honestly.  It's like he doesn't even know me.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Summer shenanigans...

The Boy, bored:  I want to build another LEGO mechanism.  But I don't know what...

Me:  Oh, oh...how about a trebuchet?*

Him, puzzled:  A tri-bu-what what?

Me: Get thee to the mighty Google and look it up.

Him, intrigued: Is that French? Because it sounds French.

Twenty minutes spent on google, google images and youtube...

Him, excited:  Dude!  It's like a catapult!  Sweet!

Off to his room he went...and came back down with this:


And demonstrations followed...


Very proud of himself...as he should be!


He's currently building a bigger model.  Because, apparently, this was merely the prototype.

And, yes, the clock reads 1:35 in the afternoon and he is still jammie clad.  It's summer.  It's raining.  What?



*I figured it would go well with the gallows his little sister built last week.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Sometimes...the words aren't there.

But music always is.


I'm strong enough to hold you through the winter
Mean enough to stare your demons down.

I'm a riser
I'm a Get up off the ground
Don't Run and Hider.
Push comes to shovin' I'm a Fighter.
When darkness comes to town I'm a Lighter.
Get out Aliver of the fire.
Surviver.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Blessings...

Last Friday I took off for an overnight trip.  Alone.  Just me.  Solo.  A three and a half hour drive with no one asking how much farther, were we there yet, or having to stop for bathroom breaks.  Sheer bliss.   I adore my family.  I love them and am grateful every single day for these miracle children and their father.  But it's been a long year already and I didn't even look back as I drove away.

There was a purpose to my trip.  I was visiting an old friend and her 10-month-old baby boy.  Years ago, in another lifetime, we were co-workers.  In an "office attire" environment  She would tease me about my drab fashion sense and apparent lack of style.  She more than made up for my loathing of shopping.

In the 11 years we have been friends, she has divorced herself from an abusive marriage, pulled herself out of the depths of despair, put herself though college and graduate school, remarried (to a man who adores her), moved states, set up urban homesteading, had a baby and is working on simplifying their lives.  She's the poster child for How to Pull Yourself Up By the Bootstraps and Carry On.  And I love her for that!

Earlier in June she and her son spent the night with us on the way to visit her family elsewhere.  She was appalled at the fact I was pretty much living in my running shorts because they were the only pair of shorts I own that still fit me.  She had bins of clothes she was sorting through at home with the intent of consigning them.  The majority of sizes were what I currently wear.  She wanted to give me dibs.

The fun part wasn't so much gaining new summer clothes for myself.  It was watching her delight as she pulled out favorite pieces and realized she fit into them and could wear them again.  I came home with a bag full of non-running shorts.  Cute, fashionable shorts.  And she added a few more summer dresses and shorts back to her own closet.  With a bin or two of clothes left to take to the consignment store.

Twenty four hours of "girl time"...and I returned to a home still standing, kiddos peacefully playing together and a husband still sane (ish).

Blessings, indeed.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Rebellious uprising...

I was taught US history in a British school.  But I the first time I read the Declaration of Independence I knew there were holes in my history lessons...

"Boston – National Guard units seeking to confiscate a cache of recently banned assault weapons were ambushed by elements of a Para-military extremist faction. Military and law enforcement sources estimate that 72 were killed and more than 200 injured before government forces were compelled to withdraw.
Speaking after the clash, Massachusetts Governor Thomas Gage declared that the extremist faction, which was made up of local citizens, has links to the radical right-wing tax protest movement.
Gage blamed the extremists for recent incidents of vandalism directed against internal revenue offices. The governor, who described the group’s organizers as “criminals,” issued an executive order authorizing the summary arrest of any individual who has interfered with the government’s efforts to secure law and order.
The military raid on the extremist arsenal followed wide-spread refusal by the local citizenry to turn over recently outlawed assault weapons.
Gage issued a ban on military-style assault weapons and ammunition earlier in the week. This decision followed a meeting in early this month between government and military leaders at which the governor authorized the forcible confiscation of illegal arms.
One government official, speaking on condition of anonymity, pointed out that “none of these people would have been killed had the extremists obeyed the law and turned over their weapons voluntarily.”
Government troops initially succeeded in confiscating a large supply of outlawed weapons and ammunition. However, troops attempting to seize arms and ammunition in Lexington met with resistance from heavily-armed extremists who had been tipped off regarding the government’s plans.
During a tense standoff in the Lexington town park, National Guard Colonel Francis Smith, commander of the government operation, ordered the armed group to surrender and return to their homes. The impasse was broken by a single shot, which was reportedly fired by one of the right-wing extremists.
Eight civilians were killed in the ensuing exchange.
Ironically, the local citizenry blamed government forces rather than the extremists for the civilian deaths. Before order could be restored, armed citizens from surrounding areas had descended upon the guard units. Colonel Smith, finding his forces over matched by the armed mob, ordered a retreat.
Governor Gage has called upon citizens to support the state/national joint task force in its effort to restore law and order. The governor also demanded the surrender of those responsible for planning and leading the attack against the government troops.
Samuel Adams, Paul Revere, and John Hancock, who have been identified as “ringleaders” of the extremist faction, remain at large.


And this fellow Americans, is how the American Revolution began, April 20, 1775."
(Source here)
Just over a year later, those same "terrorists" gathered to sign the Declaration of Independence.  They risked everything they had--their lives, their families, their honor.  They had no idea which side was going to win the war and they still put it all on the line.

Though I do still believe hot tea can fix just about any ailment, and the letter "u" should be used in more words, and am able to drop the "r" out of a word without even thinking about it, I am honored and privileged to be a part of this rebellious nation.

Conversation just now*...

Him:  Have you looked into any places to take the munchkins to see fireworks tomorrow night?

Me: ::blink, blink::

Him: What?

Me:  Seriously?

Him: Yes. I think they'd like it.

Me:  This is your first 4th off in a while so, technically, you're new here.  But me and fireworks? And crowds? Really?  I was just planning on going with the usual "get kiddos in bed and pray they fall asleep before the loonies start shooting guns in the air and I spend the night in bed with a blanket and pillow over my head, reminding myself they're just stupid people with guns and fireworks, and not soldiers..."

Him: Well, that works too.

It's a weird day when my childhood war trauma trumps his PTSD.



*Not the actual actual conversation, but it reads a lot better than my real answer of "Are you effing kidding me?!"

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

What living with arthritis looks like...



Potentially debilitating disease? She mocks you! Whilst wearing a dress.

That's my girl.