Em and the Possibilities There are no guarantees in life…only the possibilities

January: was mostly spent recovering from Christmas and cleaning out my closet.

February: I celebrated/mourned my 3 yr “divorciversary” on the 13th. Joe categorically refused to sleep in his brand new “big boy” toddler bed. School starts, but I missed the first two weeks of class because The Kids were Sick. The Grand Kitchen experiments start with the discovery that pork bacon is a ripoff – half the weight you pay for renders out in cooking. I also discovered that I get test anxiety now – and I discovered it the hard way by badly flunking my first exams.

March: Flew by.

April: Alannah turns 13 (gawd help us all), Daniel turns 5, and school is…school.

May: I gave up on using myspace as a way to pole-vault my social life. Finding the least common denominator isn’t always a good thing; I bought This puzzle but it’s still sitting in the box since the boys want to “help”. Daniel blessed my earrings by telling me “dey will bring you LOVE, Mommy!”

May: mostly meh. Took my final exams and didn’t flunk outright.

June: Met some great MD moms, made my final break with MD over….drama (duh?) and started up the supah-secret invitation only replacement for the single mamas. 36th birthday, whoopee!

July: We braved Teh Family Drama and drove up to TN for Granny’s 90th birthday. Not much blogging, things got weird.

August: Still slacking on blogging. Had my First Date in 4 years. Decided to move from Tinklebelle.com to Mamasbloggin.com and lost some of my archives in the process. Fall semester starts WOOHOO!

September: Freshmen on campus…in their jammies. With flipflops. *shudder* Started up the “Cook Alongs” category. Wonder where all my blog traffic (all 10 of you) went…

October: Completely and totally blow by my Blogiversary (on the 13th); go to my first (and thus far only) Blogsboro meetup; school is kickin my rear.

November: School, Thanksgiving, exams.

December: Final exams, Christmas preparations and celebrations.

There are things that are outside the timeline because I didn’t deem them notable at the time; finding a friend from college, finding a few friends from high school, making a few IRL friends, going shopping for *gasp* clothes…that FIT!!!!

Today I’ll be taking down the Christmas tree, putting the furniture back, and possibly running the floor cleaner over the room (it needs it badly). I’m also working on a “7 in 07″ list of goals to achieve.

If you go out tonight, please keep it Safe Sane and Consensual. I’ll be snoring in the new year as I always do!

but the kid won’t let me. It’s time, I’m done, I know it’s better for the environment if I keep the system we have but after five solid years I want you, Dear Reader, to know that I am

SICK OF WASHING CLOTH DIAPERS

I’ve done my part for not stuffing the dump full of disposable diapers. Hell, I’ve done for myself and some other folks too.

He is usually dry in the morning…..unless he wears a pullup. He won’t wear his “big boy underwear” with a diaper stuffed in it for security. “Silly Mommy, diapers don’t go in underwears!” No, he has to have a big prefold, a little prefold, and a proraps cover over it all. In other words, the BIG DIAPERBUTT!

I’ve gone through and packed up all the lovely fitteds and AIOs since he’s mostly daytrained. And after 5 years (and 2 kids) the prefolds are looking significantly worse for the wear. If he doesn’t dry it up at night, I may have to actually buy more prefolds RIGHT when I should be selling the rest of the stash. Yes, they’re really that bad. No, worse.

I do NOT want to spend more money on cloth right now.

Most Americans Have Had Premarital Sex

“This is reality-check research,” said the study’s author, Lawrence Finer. “Premarital sex is normal behavior for the vast majority of Americans, and has been for decades.”

Actually, it’s been that way since the pre-Colonial era. There’s a gracious plenty of research and historical documentation out there on it, WHY aren’t you utilizing it? People who wanted to get married couldn’t because of a lack of clergy and/or distance from civil authorities; couples who were in an otherwise committed relationship were culturally accepted as licit; people who were married by a cleric outside of their religion weren’t considered “truly” married until someone from their OWN religion performed the ceremony.

The basic “reasons” for the existence may have changed as our society changed and modernized, but much like every OTHER aspect of sex that’s been criminalized and/or socially regulated, I very seriously doubt that it will go away.

However, Janice Crouse of Concerned Women for America, a conservative group which strongly supports abstinence-only education, said she was skeptical of the findings.

Now THAT’S funny.

Enter your birthdate here.

Your past life diagnosis: I don’t know how you feel about it, but you were female in your last earthly incarnation.You were born somewhere in the territory of modern USA South-Center around the year 1450. Your profession was that of a chemist, alchemist or poison manufacturer.
Your brief psychological profile in your past life:
You always liked to travel and to investigate. You could have been a detective or a spy.
The lesson that your last past life brought to your present incarnation:
You should develop self-love and ability to implant hope into hearts of people. Ambition is not everything. True wealth is buried in your soul.

Do you remember now?

Okay, so which is it – chemist/alchemist/poison manufacturer, or detective/spy? And let’s be realistic here, mkay? I’ve had one date in the last 4 years* – do you REALLY think I haven’t developed “self-love”??!!??

Also, I love love LOVE their Disclaimer page which says (among other things) It is up to you how you interpret the information given by this program; however, you should know that this software is only slightly more sophisticated than an electronic fortune cookie.

Heh.

*The first two years really don’t count since I was pregnant and then nursing.

Because I just can’t STOP myself!

A former co-worker was wandering his way through the toy section. He had the absolutely CUTEST lil girl riding shotgun, and I picked that gorgeous chunka baby up and got a hug. She was none too pleased to be relegated to the buggy again.

Moments like that make me wonder if I’m Really Truly Done with having babies.

This book is a very nice historical treatise on sex in the Colonies.

A book about sex really shouldn’t be “nice”. Even when talking about the Puritans and their schizophrenia about sexual relations.

There’s not a good wank in the whole thing. Three hundred and forty pages of text – there should be a good wank SOMEWHERE!!!!

What there is plenty of, however, are statements like “This guy wrote in his diary about XXX, but we don’t know how his wife/girlfriend/lover felt about it because her diary (assuming she kept one) didn’t survive.” yawn

Reading this book made me want to reach through the sands of time and smack our ancestors upside the head.

I’m sorry I picked this book up, I’m even sorrier that I didn’t pick up and mark where the annotated bib and index section (they’re over 100 pages) because it would’ve made working through this thing a lot less painful. Someone bring the author to me so I can stick him in a pillory and abuse him.

I’m sending out Christmas cards this year.

I really really should have taken pen in hand and written “lipsum” a time or three before filling out the first card – it looks like a hyperactive nutcase wrote it.

Oh wait, I AM a hyperactive nutcase.

Nevermind.

Mom fell down the porch steps last night. She’s OK – last night she was convinced everything was OK, but today she decided she wanted X-rays after all. But? No ER ifyouplease, Primecare is right around the corner, and they can do it all there.

1 hour in the waiting room.
1 hour in the exam room.
1 hour getting the PA diagnosis, plus radiology double-checking the xrays tomorrow.

BONUS SQUICKING!!!

Being in a waiting room full of obviously sick people (and the joy of one guy who was so bad you could hear him being sick in the bathroom (which I SO DID NOT USE!!!) at 50 paces.)

I got home just in time to watch Dan bounce on the sofa, trying to spin the ceiling fan blades.