Since I have become a parent, I have said so many things that I never imagined I would ever need to say. I mentioned some in a previous post. Well, here are the latest, and please keep in mind that Pretty Girl is 7 months old and the J Man is going on 23 months old.
1) "Don't de-pants your brother!" (Pretty Girl loves the J Man, so whenever he's within arms reach, she lunges at him and usually gets his pants.)
2) "Stop grabbing my _____." (It's not that the word itself is bad, it's just I'm too embarrassed to type it.)
3) "Don't throw the scooter into the kitchen!"
4) "Stop letting your brother drag you around the family room floor!" (Pretty Girl had lunged at her brother, grabbed on to his pants, and was not letting go. So, when he tried to get away, he began to drag her around the floor before I could get to them.)
5) "Now the key to good kissing is to not bite the other person's lips."
6) "Don't palm your sister's head!"
7) "Stop licking my knees!"
Yes, parenting is definitely an adventure into the unknown and the unthinkable. But I do love it.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Limericks Anyone?
Ok, it's time for a new post. And wouldn't you know, I'm on a limerick kick. So, here goes...
First, some Zelenka ones...
There is a great doctor named Radek
Who keeps his boss Rodney in check
He takes Rodney's rap
Throws it back in his lap
Without him old Rodney'd wreak havoc
For Pookey:
Zelenka's a brilliant young Czech
Who finds Rodney a pain in the neck
I can't blame him there
And I do love his hair
To Atlantis for him I would trek
There was on Atlantis a smartie
Who'd rather play chess than to party
He's sweet and not terse
But in Czech he would curse
When dealing with ninnies like Rodney
For some other Gate Worlders...
Now Pookey has such a cute name
Pyromania, apparently her fame
She's a perky young girl
Who perused the Gate World
While her kitchen went up with a flame
There was a Gate Worlder from Belgium
Who posted that he thought it was dumb
To put out a fire
With footwear attire
And turned his nice sneakers to gum gum
There was a commander named Sil
Showed intelligence, promise, and skill
She took her inhaler
And that really made her
Like Wile E. upon earthquake pills
And finally, some miscellaneous ones.
There was a young woman named Bess
Who wore a pink polka-dot dress
Though her husband complained
In the dress she remained
Divorce lawyers took care of the rest
There was a young piper named Fyffe
Who carried a scabbard and knife
In error one day
The knife he did play
And it most nearly cost him his life
There once was a seamstress named Sue
Whose thread all mysteriously turned blue
She began mending jeans
'Til the holes were unseen
Now seriously, what else could she do?
There was a duck hunter named Joe
Whose finger was terribly slow
His friend told him to fire
So he aimed so much higher
But still shot his buddy below.
I'm crazy, I'm wacko, I'm nuts
No ifs, no ands, and no buts
I went off my rocker
No books in my locker
And I'm spinning around like a klutz
There once was a girl from Paris
She stayed in the bathroom 'til 3
When asked, "What'd you do?
Are things alright with you?"
She simply replied, "Mais, oui oui!"
Ok, I'm done... for now.
If you actually made it to this point in the post, you either like my limericks or you're a masochist. If the former is the case, feel free to visit Stargate LIMERICKS!!! and Zelenka / Nykl Fans where you can find these and more.
First, some Zelenka ones...
There is a great doctor named Radek
Who keeps his boss Rodney in check
He takes Rodney's rap
Throws it back in his lap
Without him old Rodney'd wreak havoc
For Pookey:
Zelenka's a brilliant young Czech
Who finds Rodney a pain in the neck
I can't blame him there
And I do love his hair
To Atlantis for him I would trek
There was on Atlantis a smartie
Who'd rather play chess than to party
He's sweet and not terse
But in Czech he would curse
When dealing with ninnies like Rodney
For some other Gate Worlders...
Now Pookey has such a cute name
Pyromania, apparently her fame
She's a perky young girl
Who perused the Gate World
While her kitchen went up with a flame
There was a Gate Worlder from Belgium
Who posted that he thought it was dumb
To put out a fire
With footwear attire
And turned his nice sneakers to gum gum
There was a commander named Sil
Showed intelligence, promise, and skill
She took her inhaler
And that really made her
Like Wile E. upon earthquake pills
And finally, some miscellaneous ones.
There was a young woman named Bess
Who wore a pink polka-dot dress
Though her husband complained
In the dress she remained
Divorce lawyers took care of the rest
There was a young piper named Fyffe
Who carried a scabbard and knife
In error one day
The knife he did play
And it most nearly cost him his life
There once was a seamstress named Sue
Whose thread all mysteriously turned blue
She began mending jeans
'Til the holes were unseen
Now seriously, what else could she do?
There was a duck hunter named Joe
Whose finger was terribly slow
His friend told him to fire
So he aimed so much higher
But still shot his buddy below.
I'm crazy, I'm wacko, I'm nuts
No ifs, no ands, and no buts
I went off my rocker
No books in my locker
And I'm spinning around like a klutz
There once was a girl from Paris
She stayed in the bathroom 'til 3
When asked, "What'd you do?
Are things alright with you?"
She simply replied, "Mais, oui oui!"
Ok, I'm done... for now.
If you actually made it to this point in the post, you either like my limericks or you're a masochist. If the former is the case, feel free to visit Stargate LIMERICKS!!! and Zelenka / Nykl Fans where you can find these and more.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Please Support a Worthy Organization
This post will be a little bit different from others I have posted. I apologize for the seriousness of this post, but I am so upset, I don't know what else to do. You see, my husband and I moved into our first house last year. After we got the utilities hooked up and the phone connected, we started receiving calls for the previous owners of our phone number. That is to be expected. And really, most companies are so nice about removing you from their list once they realize that you are not the people with whom they have previously done business. (I mean, it seems silly to renew a warranty on a boat that you don't have, right?)
Well, after a few months, the phone calls ended for all companies except for one, Amvets. Knowing that they are a charity, I tried to be nice. I explained that the people for whom they were calling no longer owned this phone number and that I did not even live on the same street or even in the same part of town that they do. And, I asked to have the number removed from their call list. Each time the person said they would and hung up. (Sigh) Yet the calls continued.
As you know, I now have two beautiful babies under two. If they are not napping, then I am changing them, feeding them, or running after them. It is terribly difficult to get the phone within the first few rings. And whenever the phone does ring, I fear that it might be my husband with something important. Also, since my health is not the best, I hate not to get his phone calls for fear that he would think I were in medical distress. Thus, it is extremely frustrating for me to run to the phone only to find out that it is Amvets calling for the previous owners who have not had this phone number for over a year.
Since my asking the organization to stop calling had no effect, I sent an email to Jim King, the National Executive Director of the organization. Yet I am still receiving calls. I filed a complaint with the Do Not Call Registry and announced my complaint in another email to the NED. Yet I am still receiving calls. I was, however, copied on an email from someone within the organization who sent my issue to someone else. I have heard nothing since, and I am still receiving calls.
The law states that even if your phone number is on the Do Not Call Registry, charities may still call you unless you ask them not to (which I have done repeatedly). As it is, I have never had any dealings with Amvets before. I did not give them my phone number, and I have never given them permission to call me. Even the person who called me today from Amvets said that other people were complaining about being called after asking not to be contacted. Amvets has a problem within their organization that needs to be fixed. And it makes me wonder, if they have these kinds of problems in one area of their organization, how many other problems do they have? Are the donations even doing any good?
As a result, I am asking everyone I know and everyone I can reach to stop donating to Amvets because by doing so, they are supporting an organization that harasses people and shows blatant disregard for the law. And if you aren't donating, you may not want to start. Once they get your phone number, they will never stop calling. Instead, please donate to someone else. There are many terrific charities out there who would gladly accept your support.
You may think I am calloused and maybe even evil by asking people not to support Amvets, but they are driving me crazy. Perhaps I have a low tolerance, I don't know. Regardless, it doesn't matter. The fact is that I asked them to stop calling and they didn't--and won't. Maybe if their donations suffer, they will care enough to fix the problems that they have with their organization.
Again, please support a worthy charity, not one that harasses potential donors like Amvets.
Thank you.
Well, after a few months, the phone calls ended for all companies except for one, Amvets. Knowing that they are a charity, I tried to be nice. I explained that the people for whom they were calling no longer owned this phone number and that I did not even live on the same street or even in the same part of town that they do. And, I asked to have the number removed from their call list. Each time the person said they would and hung up. (Sigh) Yet the calls continued.
As you know, I now have two beautiful babies under two. If they are not napping, then I am changing them, feeding them, or running after them. It is terribly difficult to get the phone within the first few rings. And whenever the phone does ring, I fear that it might be my husband with something important. Also, since my health is not the best, I hate not to get his phone calls for fear that he would think I were in medical distress. Thus, it is extremely frustrating for me to run to the phone only to find out that it is Amvets calling for the previous owners who have not had this phone number for over a year.
Since my asking the organization to stop calling had no effect, I sent an email to Jim King, the National Executive Director of the organization. Yet I am still receiving calls. I filed a complaint with the Do Not Call Registry and announced my complaint in another email to the NED. Yet I am still receiving calls. I was, however, copied on an email from someone within the organization who sent my issue to someone else. I have heard nothing since, and I am still receiving calls.
The law states that even if your phone number is on the Do Not Call Registry, charities may still call you unless you ask them not to (which I have done repeatedly). As it is, I have never had any dealings with Amvets before. I did not give them my phone number, and I have never given them permission to call me. Even the person who called me today from Amvets said that other people were complaining about being called after asking not to be contacted. Amvets has a problem within their organization that needs to be fixed. And it makes me wonder, if they have these kinds of problems in one area of their organization, how many other problems do they have? Are the donations even doing any good?
As a result, I am asking everyone I know and everyone I can reach to stop donating to Amvets because by doing so, they are supporting an organization that harasses people and shows blatant disregard for the law. And if you aren't donating, you may not want to start. Once they get your phone number, they will never stop calling. Instead, please donate to someone else. There are many terrific charities out there who would gladly accept your support.
You may think I am calloused and maybe even evil by asking people not to support Amvets, but they are driving me crazy. Perhaps I have a low tolerance, I don't know. Regardless, it doesn't matter. The fact is that I asked them to stop calling and they didn't--and won't. Maybe if their donations suffer, they will care enough to fix the problems that they have with their organization.
Again, please support a worthy charity, not one that harasses potential donors like Amvets.
Thank you.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Faster than a Speeding Bullet
As you are probably aware, I fondly call my son the J Man as if he were a superhero. Well, yesterday Double O Daddy and I discovered just one more of his super powers (that is besides his uncanny ability to pull MacGyverisms and Houdini himself out of the high chair straps). We have come to realize that given the right code phrase, our precious J Man is faster than a speeding bullet. Now please note that it is only by using the proper code phrase that our little cherub is able to break the sound barrier. What is the secret phrase, you ask? "Let me check your diaper." (Of course I cannot help but chuckle as I type this.) As soon as I uttered that phrase, his cute little arms came up and he ran for the safety of the corner behind his bed as fast as his little legs could take him. As I began to laugh, I explained the situation to Double O while he was coming from the stairs, so he had to try it. Sure enough, with a puff of smoke, the boy took off for his favorite safety spot.
After trying it a couple more times, Double O Daddy decided to play with the boy and alter the code phrase a little. First he said, "Let me check your diamonds." The arms lifted and he took a step toward his hideout, but then he stopped. Then Double O said, "Let me check your diabetes." Again, the arms lifted and he took a step. Finally, he said, "Let me check your diaper!" and off he ran. Oh man, I absolutely love my kids!
Friday, July 31, 2009
J Man-ese
Wow, the J Man just turned 21 months old last week. Where has all the time gone? Anyway, he finally started saying "No" a week or so ago. Because of that, Double O Daddy is telling people that life as we know it has now ended. But the truth is, he isn't using it in context yet. Yet. (*Chuckle*) He also says it in a sing-songy voice and sometimes with an "m" on the end as if he is saying "gnome."
The most intriguing word he says is "I so po." I noticed that unlike the other gibberish that he continues to spout throughout the day, he says "I so po" over and over. I figured that it must mean something, so I thought and thought and thought. "It's so po..." "I so po...." What on earth could the boy be saying? Then one day, he stood near the gate, held out his arm, and while opening and closing his fist said, "I so po." Then, I knew what he meant. Do you remember my post on June 3rd entitled "Everyone's a Critic?" Well, since then, the boy has been absolutely obsessed with the vacuum cleaner. It scares him so that he shakes and runs, but he loves it and asks for me to use it every single day. Yes, "I so po" means vacuum cleaner. Who woulda thunk it? I guess the boy is just creating his own language when the actual words are too difficult to pronounce. But what can I say, he comes by it honestly--this coming from the girl who called Pinocchio "Uh luck a luck."
A few months ago, his favorite phrase was "It's ok" which sometimes sounds like "Isaac A." Today, he has been saying "I say yes." I must admit though that I was most impressed when he started saying "Hop Pop" whenever he wanted me to read him the book "Hop on Pop." He's also been saying "Hop op op oh." Can you guess what that means? I'll give you a hint, he likes Sandra Boynton books. Yes, that means hippopotamus.
The most intriguing word he says is "I so po." I noticed that unlike the other gibberish that he continues to spout throughout the day, he says "I so po" over and over. I figured that it must mean something, so I thought and thought and thought. "It's so po..." "I so po...." What on earth could the boy be saying? Then one day, he stood near the gate, held out his arm, and while opening and closing his fist said, "I so po." Then, I knew what he meant. Do you remember my post on June 3rd entitled "Everyone's a Critic?" Well, since then, the boy has been absolutely obsessed with the vacuum cleaner. It scares him so that he shakes and runs, but he loves it and asks for me to use it every single day. Yes, "I so po" means vacuum cleaner. Who woulda thunk it? I guess the boy is just creating his own language when the actual words are too difficult to pronounce. But what can I say, he comes by it honestly--this coming from the girl who called Pinocchio "Uh luck a luck."
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Stargate Motivational Posters
I know this has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but it was so much fun that I couldn't help sharing. While I was perusing the web the other day, I came across a thread where people made motivational posters with Stargate pictures and/or sayings. Here's the link if you want to check it out for yourself: http://forum.gateworld.net/showthread.php?t=44241. And here's the website they listed to create your own posters: http://bighugelabs.com/motivator.php. I even came up with a few myself as you can see below...
I hope you like them.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Tripping Down Memory Lane
Last night I had a dream. (I'm leaving off the adjectives for now because choosing just one to describe this thing I had is just too much of a challenge in the time I have.) In this dream, I was at a mall where they were setting up for a scifi convention. (Gee, I wonder where I got that idea--see Letters from Pegasus, which I follow.) In the distance I could see some of the celebrities signing autographs for a few people who had already begun to gather. I noticed David Nykl was among them. He was wearing a white button-down, long sleeved shirt with thin light brown lines running horizontally and vertically making one inch squares across the fabric. Oh, and he had the moustache that he sported in a picture at the aforementioned link. (My dreams are very vivid and detailed, but just wait...) I was excited about seeing David Nykl, but I didn't want to look like an idiot and rush right over, so I decided to play it cool and wait for him at the next place he was scheduled to be. Well, I turned around to go there and saw him in front of me. For some reason, I thought it would be fun to barely brush his shoulder ("accidentally" of course) as I passed by. After I passed him, I began to run like a nit so as to get a good spot in line. I figured he wouldn't see me then, but he turned around and said, "Hey you with the go-go boots and hat, run this way later..." I looked down and saw what I was wearing. Oh, my gosh! I was wearing my mother's brown boots from the 70's with the clunky heels. (But instead of zipping up as hers actually did, these just pulled up--like go-go boots. And yes, I did have a pair of go-go boots in the 70's. Mine were white though.) As my eyes moved up my body, I noticed that I was also wearing my Mom's polyester shirt with the brown lines forming a "V" right in the middle. It had the big collar and matching belt tie. And of course to top it off, I was wearing my mother's crocheted winter hat with the crocheted bill and the big pom pon on top, except this one was brown and not orange. What a dork! (me, not him). I wanted to die.
Now, please note that when it comes to fashion, I hated the 70's. In my opinion, there were absolutely no redeeming features. I detest polyester (for myself anyway), which I was made to wear until the 80's because of an allergy to cotton that (Thank You God) I outgrew in 1974. (Yes, do the math.) I also cannot stand wearing brown or orange. My mother looks absolutely great in both, but me, well, let's just say I would have been better off naked and letting my long hair create a Lady Godiva effect. In this dream, I could feel my entire body covered with synthetic fabric. Ugh! So not only did I want to die of embarrassment, but I also desperately wanted to strip--and that takes a lot considering how modest I am.
If I were to tell Double O Daddy the whole dream, he would likely say what he usually says when I tell him my dreams, "Stop eating chili after 9." But, I suppose the real culprit here is the fact that I am due to turn 40 next week. You know, it's strange. All my life I have wanted to be older, and I have always looked forward to birthdays. When I was a kid (under 18), every birthday meant one day closer to being 18 and freedom. (I won't tell you what kind of freedom I mean, but I will tell you it's not what you think.) After I was 18, I felt that each birthday would bring me one year closer to being respected by others. And although that is not entirely the case, I will say that I feel that people respect me more now than they did then and certainly more than anyone ever did when I was a kid. And now, I don't really care if anyone else respects me because I respect myself. Sure, I've made mistakes--who hasn't? But, I think that even though I still have so many more improvements to make, I am happy with many of the ones I've made so far. And I respect myself because I keep on trying.
Back to birthdays... This is the first birthday that I have ever felt "old." I know that 40 isn't really old, but after having two kids within the last three years and wondering if my latest bout of nausea (that has lasted for the past three days) is something more than a bad burrito--not to mention a bad knee, bursitis, and a bad back--I feel so much older than I actually am. (If I am pregnant, then I think I must have looked at that photo of Paul McGillion too long--see my earlier post entitled, "I Dream of Paul McGillion?" Thanks, Paul.) Oh well, that's life. I just hope I didn't break my nose tripping down memory lane.
Now, please note that when it comes to fashion, I hated the 70's. In my opinion, there were absolutely no redeeming features. I detest polyester (for myself anyway), which I was made to wear until the 80's because of an allergy to cotton that (Thank You God) I outgrew in 1974. (Yes, do the math.) I also cannot stand wearing brown or orange. My mother looks absolutely great in both, but me, well, let's just say I would have been better off naked and letting my long hair create a Lady Godiva effect. In this dream, I could feel my entire body covered with synthetic fabric. Ugh! So not only did I want to die of embarrassment, but I also desperately wanted to strip--and that takes a lot considering how modest I am.
If I were to tell Double O Daddy the whole dream, he would likely say what he usually says when I tell him my dreams, "Stop eating chili after 9." But, I suppose the real culprit here is the fact that I am due to turn 40 next week. You know, it's strange. All my life I have wanted to be older, and I have always looked forward to birthdays. When I was a kid (under 18), every birthday meant one day closer to being 18 and freedom. (I won't tell you what kind of freedom I mean, but I will tell you it's not what you think.) After I was 18, I felt that each birthday would bring me one year closer to being respected by others. And although that is not entirely the case, I will say that I feel that people respect me more now than they did then and certainly more than anyone ever did when I was a kid. And now, I don't really care if anyone else respects me because I respect myself. Sure, I've made mistakes--who hasn't? But, I think that even though I still have so many more improvements to make, I am happy with many of the ones I've made so far. And I respect myself because I keep on trying.
Back to birthdays... This is the first birthday that I have ever felt "old." I know that 40 isn't really old, but after having two kids within the last three years and wondering if my latest bout of nausea (that has lasted for the past three days) is something more than a bad burrito--not to mention a bad knee, bursitis, and a bad back--I feel so much older than I actually am. (If I am pregnant, then I think I must have looked at that photo of Paul McGillion too long--see my earlier post entitled, "I Dream of Paul McGillion?" Thanks, Paul.) Oh well, that's life. I just hope I didn't break my nose tripping down memory lane.
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