Observations in Target

I realized something rather amazing the other day.

I have only been in a Target store once since school got out, and that once was in CA where I do not reside so it doesn't really count.

That is pretty amazing.

Not that I haven't spent the money I usually spend at Target. With all my kids home, bulk is our best bet. Sam's Club loves summer break.

But yesterday I had an hour with nothing to do. I know. I know. And what's more, no children. Well, I spotted a Target and decided to go in and just look around...cough cough...yeah right...ahem.

While looking at some make-up that someone slipped into my basket, I overheard a little girl talking to her mommy. She wanted a toy that her mother was refusing to buy. The nerve of that mom. She is so mean.

But then this child, in voice that reminded me of my own children, let out this threat that almost made me want to buy her the toy (insert sarcastic face), "If you don't buy me that toy I will spit on your face...everyday."

And that is why I don't miss my trips to Target this summer.


I am a late participant in Jen's ABC Thursday!

So I Married a Deaf Man: It just is.

Sometimes being married to a Deaf person isn't fun.

Sometimes it's annoying, having to look all the time. 

Sometimes it's frustrating to be the "go-to" for all the kids' complaints.

Sometimes it's lonely, because there aren't many people who totally understand the world I live in...not even Hubs.

Sometimes it stinks to be the only one who hears how loud we really are. Okay, that's not true. Everyone else can hear us...just not Hubs.

Sometimes it's tiring to always be the middleman...the bridge between two worlds.

Sometimes I don't want to be the one who makes the call. I just don't want to.

Sometimes I want to be selfish.

Sometimes I want to know people like me for who I am, not who I married.

I know, this post is pretty raw. And negative. And non-typical. But it's true. It doesn't make me love him any less. I still choose him everyday. 

But sometimes it's hard.

It just is.

Wee! Wee! A shopping spree!!!!

I can think of a lot of things that I could do with $250.

I could buy a whole bunch of new socks and hide them from my sock stealing, elastic destroying, hole making, stinky footed 11 year old.

I could buy my 11 year old a bunch of socks.

I could pay someone to come clean my house every 2 weeks for 2 months. (That is tempting...)

I could buy myself some new clothes... in a smaller size because I am going to lose this baby weight. Shhhh...I know my baby has been out for two and a half years. Don't go there...I'm warning you.

I could start my Christmas shopping. (Bwahahaha...good one.)

I could take Hubs for an overnight extravaganza...without the kids. (If it was with the kids it would be far from extravaganza...)

So many things that I could do with $250.

I decided, however, to take my money and buy something really exciting.

You know, like buying  84, #2 pencils, 36 glue sticks, 16 dry erase markers (fat, skinny, and fine tipped), 3 pairs of Fiskar scissors, 12 multi-colored folders with prongs, 6 folders un-pronged, 3 rulers, too many spiral notebooks, a few packs of wide ruled paper, 2 calculators, a couple ringed binders, 5 packages of stickers, 7 boxes of Kleenex, 8 paper towels, 4 reams of paper, 6 boxes of Crayola crayons, paint, play dough, Ziploc bags, hand sanitizer, Lysol wipes. The list goes on.

Do you remember when you would bring your own box of supplies to school with you? And you could put your name on your crayons and folders, and glue, etc. Oh, and your folders could be fun and decorative. Sigh....

So that is what I did with my $250. And though it is hard to part with, it's money well spent.

Though, an extravaganza would be fun too....

Bring out the fudge!

I often think it odd, the things that I remember from my childhood.

Like the day we played this game. One that consisted of a big blue Bambi blanket, and a blue bowl of fudge.

I am not quite sure what I was doing before Mom came in the room. I do know I was with my sisters. Mom entered the room with a big blue Bambi blanket. She spread it out over the floor.

She told us to get on it. And on it, we got.

"This is a boat. Do not get off the boat. No matter what. Or the sharks will get you."

I remember thinking what a fun game this was going to be. I am sure somewhere in the staying I fell asleep, all part of her master plan, I am sure.

The next thing I remember is waking up to my mom, mixing fudge in a blue metal bowl.

Such an odd, random memory. So what can we learn from this?

If you are a tired, probably pregnant mother, just lay out a blanket and make it into a game. Make a large pot of fudge, but save a little bowl for your children so they will beg for naps on the blanket.

Ahhh, lessons from the past.

Now where's my Bambi blanket? I hear the fudge a-callin'!

So I Married a Deaf Man: He's a Superstar!

Last night, we got together for dinner and a little Wii action. Specifically Guitar/Band Hero.

Have you played this game? It is so much fun.

They had two guitars, drums and a microphone to go with it. Not to mention all the 80's hits you can ask for. It was a blast.

The singing: I could carry the tune, but couldn't follow the words. I thought I knew the words, but for some reason they have changed. Okay, so maybe I never knew the real words, but that's never mattered. And lucky for me, they still don't. Although I learned that my friend thought R.E.M's "Losing My Religion" was called "Losing My Virginity." Yikes! Lucky for both of us you just have to sing the right pitch. 

The instruments:  It was so hard to play the instruments right because you had to strum the guitar or tap on the drums before you hear it in the music. Does that make sense? The timing is slightly off. I wanted to play the note when I heard the note.

Not to mention I was fighting off memories from Jr. High and high school and not restraining myself from singing along. PLUS my children were being pests from time to time. All reasons why I fall short of a Guitar Hero.

Hubs is the Ultimate Guitar Hero!

He totally rocked it. High scores. All night. Okay, so he didn't even try the singing part. But with every other instrument he was no beginner. He wasn't distracted by the lyrics. He wasn't distracted by the unsycronization of the strums and beats. He wasn't distracted by old memories that those songs bring back.

He was focused. All he had to do was watch the prompts. Strum strum. Beat beat. Press and hold. Easy.

And that, my friends, is why my Hubs is a Superstar!!

All you are is...mean.

If you are a professional, I would expect you to behave like a professional. Am I wrong here?

I don't care how old you are. I don't care your field. I don't care how much I am paying you. You have the obligation to treat me, your customer with respect. This requirement is magnified the moment I place one of my children in your care.

This summer, my oldest joined the swim team in our community. It has been such a great experience for him. We encouraged  him to join because we knew it would be a confidence booster for him. We figured because it is such an individual sport and yet still a team sport it would be perfect for him.

You see, my oldest is very tender hearted. A better friend you will not find because he is genuine. He asks you a question because he really wants to know more about you. He is keenly aware of others feelings and doesn't want to hurt anyone. Great guy.

The flip side is that he isn't aggressive...at all. He struggles with this because so many boys his age are. They are much more competitive and rough and less considerate of others. He is willing to let others win just so they will feel good about themselves.

This is why when we heard about the swim team, we signed him up. And like I said, it has been great.

Today, however, when I pulled up to the pool to pick Kobe up, he was really quiet. Unusually quiet. I looked at him and asked, "Hey. What's up? Is everything okay?"

"I guess I am a baby," he replied, tearing up.
"What? Who told you that?" I asked, feeling the temperature in my blood start to rise.
"The assistant coach," he sniffled out.

I asked him to explain what happened.

**It is important to note that for the past week, they have been swimming with jeans so that when they compete, they will be much stronger.**

Well, today, for whatever reason, Kobe was having a hard time. Maybe it was because he swam in six different events Saturday. Maybe it's because he had his trunks on under his pants. Maybe it's because he is still getting over being sick. Maybe I am giving him too many excuses. But for whatever reason, it was really hard for him today.

Doesn't everyone have an off day? We are allowed that, right?

Apparently the assistant coach didn't think so. She started yelling at him, "Come on, you baby! Stop being a baby!!" She said this more than once.

These are children.

They aren't college students who have developed thick skin. They aren't high school kids who couldn't care less what you say because they know more than you anyway. No. You are working with impressionable kids who take what you say to heart. Some of them literally.

It's one thing to come from a peer. It's totally different to come from an adult. But it is absolutely unacceptable to come from a professional. Do you not know the difference between encouraging and degrading? Surely you know it does nothing in building their confidence.

I assured him that he wasn't a baby. The problem was not his...it sounded more like it was hers. Perhaps she hadn't learned that degrading others was not considered motivating.

You can bet that I will be at the pool tomorrow. Keeping an eye on that gal. Most likely speaking with the head coach.

Am I overreacting? Would you be upset? What would you do? 

Really, what should I do?

Moooving right along!

I have a child who loves milk. If given the choice between milk and almost any other beverage, he would choose milk. Honestly, I think if he could bathe in it. So glad he can't because that would just be nasty. Really.

This is the same child who gets headaches. All. The. Time. As in, he lives daily with headaches, sometimes they are livable and other days they are crippling.  This has been happening since he was seven years old. He is now eleven. We had tried every
thing: visiting the pediatrician, dentist, optometrist, chiropractor, neurologist, MRI, loading him up with water, veggies, meat,etc. Nothing helped!

One day, this milk loving child had a large Oreo blizzard which was quickly followed by a massive migraine. 

Hmmmm. Veddy Interesting!

So we cut all milk from our milk loving child, for a week. And guess what! Not one headache. All week. Holy cow! It was that simple.

Not only that, but Hubs who also suffers with headaches, did the cut too. And wouldn't you know it...zero headaches.

How did we not figure this out sooner? Maybe you all are saying, "Well, duuuuuh!" But not even the multiple specialists we went to asked about his diet. Weird.

No matter. Now that we know the cause, we can keep an eye on it. Now that we know, we can hopefully prevent them. Now that we know, this mama can feel at ease...for the moment.

Dang dairy!