Bald Eagle

There was a Bald Eagle shot in North Carolina around where I used to go to school.  It's sad to see such a huge bird (although it was just a baby) pictured in such a lifeless way.  Poor thing didn't have a chance.  And now I will give my opinion of guns  (please feel free to stop reading):

I don't like them.  I don't want to own anything that was made for killing.   "Well, you better throw away all your knives!" my father in law responded to my above announcement.  I explained to him that knives are used as tools.

There is no gun that was made to cut a carrot.  Of course I will agree that guns and gun powder were invented to bring peace.  Why then do we believe that in a country where peace is everywhere do we need to carry a gun?  I don't see the need.

"To protect my family" is a good reason.  I can understand feeling that something which puts power into your hands against a stronger individual would bring you peace of mind.  Of course because a gun has no loyalty there is a chance it can be turned on you.  So, I also believe that if you bring a gun into your house you should also consider it a weapon against your family just as much as a way to defend it.  Makes me rethink what kind of weapons I'd bring in.

If someone were to come into my house and shoot me, killing me and my children would not be all that harmful to us.  We would be dead.  I believe that this person, who is so sick to need to kill anyone, would carry us with them.  The killer would have to know they did a horrible wrong.  I would not be able to carry killing any human, I have a hard enough time with the thought of eating meat.

So, I choose not to have a gun because I choose not to be given the chance to kill anyone.
... but of course it's my choice, and you have a choice too.

The fascination with the gun is not all together a bad thing.  They are pretty amazing.  You put a small ball in this tube and it shoots out the other side.  I have nothing wrong with liking the mechanics of guns and learning how they work.  That is something I would call "healthy" for anyone to have.  There are thousands of museums with great displays of guns and that I find amazing.  I love to walk through and see how the gun has evolved through the years.  It's a study.

Gun owners who know more about their guns than their cars are people I believe should own guns.  They become great teachers on respecting the machine.  Gotta love the guys who can tell you why a gun in a movie is wrong and what the person would really be using.  These people I love!  These guys have their guns locked up and in a completely different place than their bullets.

.... Just thinking now, I'd love to meet a vegetarian gun enthusiast.

Birthday

My daughter is turning One in a week and I couldn't be happier.  Every mother sees their child's first birthday as a wonderful milestone.  It's your baby growing up, bittersweet in the greatest way.  Of course I am not every mother.

I am so excited that my daughter is turning one because there will be cake, ice cream and I now don't have a baby anymore!  That's right!  I have a toddler.  Yes, toddlers are a rough period too.  Yes, I still have diapers to change.  BUT there is no more formula, the bottles are on their way out and we'll soon hear more words coming from her.

Who wouldn't be excited about connecting with their child on a social level?  I watched as my son grew but his expressions never changed and he didn't seem all that interested in us.  My daughter is walking now and she stands there pointing at everything around her.  She'll bleat out as she points and look to me for my response.  How awesome is that?!

As you may have already guessed I am also excited that I will never be pregnant again, I will never give birth again AND I will never have a baby again.  Ahhhh, those three phrases brought together make my whole body relax.

Now, let's just keep the grand babies from coming for a VERY VERY long time..... How about 25 years? I think at that point I MAY be nostalgic for those poopy, crying, gooy, helpless beings again.

Maybe 45 years.

One of those days

Have you ever had one of those days where  everything just doesn't seem worth it.  I don't mean in a larger sense, but cleaning up is just not worth it today cause I'll have kids ripping apart my couch in an hour or two.  Or you know that if you start to clean up the bathroom your three year old will just pee all over it again?  Well, it's just one of those days.

I happen to be that weird breed of person who becomes energized by bleak rainy days.  I really should move to Seattle.  It's strange to feel the power bubble over when I wake to a gray morning.  I feel ready to take on anything.  But, man, this sunny stuff?  I'm not a big fan.

Who in their right mind would believe that I am gloomy on a sunny day?  I'm sure it will get better when the children are asleep and I can relax with a beer.  Ahhhh, but a beer tastes so good on a sunny day doesn't it?

Weighted Blanket

I made a blanket!  It was going to be easier than pie... and turned out to be like making a cheese cake.

My husband and I measured out where our son would need the weight on the blanket.  We had heard that it should be 10% of your child's weight.  We decided to make it 6lbs.  He's growing like a weed and want the blanket to work for at least the next year or two.

So we took two top sheets and sewed them together.  We started making the grid of 9x6 squares (each being 4x6 inches) by only doing the horizontal lines first.  After we made those I began by making the first line of the bottom of the grid, where my son's feet would be.

Each 4x6 inch square was filled from the top.  Also, good tip: we used a long wrapping paper tube to make sure the "polly pellets" didn't stick to the sides of the fabric.  This made it so much easier.

After we filled each row we would sew a line across and start all over again with the new row.

This is the end result... sideways.

For a 6lbs blanket:
you make 9x6 grid of 1 cup full of "polly pellets"
start by making horizontal lines first
fill the 6 pockets then sew a line and repeat until all grid pockets are filled
use a paper tube to help keep pellets from sticking to sides of fabric

also- working with the sewing machine was the hardest part.  You may want to get a second set of hands just in case.

I would agree that the 6hrs this took plus the $30 or so dollars for material was well worth it as a weighted blanket can cost $200 or more.  I hope this is a helpful treat!  Our son loves it and our pocket book doesn't hurt one bit!!

Hair cut

I have a rule for myself, I will spend an outrageous amount of money on a hair cut because I have hair that seems to hate me.  If I don't get it cut by a good stylist it seems to have a mind of it's own and decides I don't need to look attractive or my own age.

It's almost as if I am sending my hair to a boot came for disrespectful teenagers.  It's the last resort when my hair gets out of hand.  When it gets back there are praises and oos and aahs.  I am gorgeous no matter what I wear and a perfect mother to boot!

Of course when I have a haircut by a bad stylist I get the outrageously annoying flips and curls which seem to pop out of nowhere.  After watching this girl butcher my hair a few days ago I feel out of touch with myself and want to eat marshmallows and sleep for hours.  I look like a tub of butter and smell like that creepy guy who happens to stand too close to you on the bus.  It's bad.

I went in and my normal stylist had called in sick.  They said I could make another appointment or have this girl "Andrea" cut it for me.  (yes, I'm using her real name because she sucks and I want people to know she does.)  I thought, there is no way my stylist would suggest someone who wasn't up to par with herself- well apparently it wasn't my stylist who suggested this girl but the "Salon".  Two minutes after sitting down and being as specific as I could be about what I wanted, this valley girl proceeded to tell me two things which should have made me walk away: 1) she hadn't done all her work at beauty school and 2) she was dating the salon owner's son... ya, at that point I should have stood up and walked out.

Instead of going with my instincts and running away, I sat there and watched as this woman gave me bangs.  I had hair almost to my shoulders and I wanted the back spikey and the front long to my chin.  You know one of those freakin awesome cuts that makes you look like a superstar?  Ya, like that.  I also mentioned that I don't style my hair in the morning.  I'm just lazy that way- oh and have two children.  After she had given me long bangs and what I would call "woman sideburns", she looked at me and very seriously proclaimed "Now, you WILL have to style this."

I have one thing to say- screw you sweetheart!  I do have an appointment with my stylist on Friday but don't have much hope of her being able to save what has been done... perhaps we can just shave it off, it's Buddha's birthday this weekend, perhaps a monk look would fit right in during the parade?

So, I will now be a walking reminder that 80s hair was awful then and is now.  I hope someone gets enjoyment out of seeing my crazy mop cause every time I see it in the mirror all I want to do is ask the fat woman for directions... cause she looks like she's been here a while.

Mess or Sleep

It would be mean and cruel of me to praise the Good Nite Lite and say it saved us.  Cause let's be honest, it hasn't.  I can see how it would work for a child who understood the phrase: "If you get up you will be in big trouble."

This phrase doesn't seem to work with my child, (I'm not totally bought on the idea that he doesn't understand it) but no matter how many time outs I put him in before the sun comes up, he still wakes two hours earlier than he should and is very confused that he can't leave his room when he wants.

I hear it's normal to be a parent and want so badly to sleep another hour or two.  I've heard that in about ten years it will take a crowbar and heavy machinery to get my child out of his bed.  Will this reeeaaaaally happen?  It's a joke, right?

Let's just say, for argument's sake, that he won't sleep in when he gets older, and if so, it will make the mornings that much weirder.  Can you imagine your child making their own breakfast?  Wow, now that is something out of the twilight zone.

Imagine your sweet child turning to you from in front of the stove.  He is wearing that apron you bought just for him because he loves to keep those beautiful clothes you buy him spotless, he asks: Oh hey mom, would you like some spinach omelet, I made it just for you!  When your spouse enters, you look knowingly at each other.  You've raised the perfect butler...

Now let reality set in...

Can you imagine the mess in the kitchen, bathroom and living room floor (my child would happily plop himself two feet away from the glow of the TV and proceed to mow down on sugar laced cereal in his underwear... that's what I envision anyway...)?  Would you take the couple of hours of sleep over a clean house?  

Clean house or not, when it gets to the point you are fantasizing about waking up at 7am, you know you need a mantra to get you through the day.... Think of the mess, think of the mess, think of the mess...

All Alone

I watched an interesting interview with a 20 something year old who has a sibling with Autism.  He said he forced his autistic brother to play with him and found ways to connect on different levels.  That makes me happy.  What made me a little sad was the worry the "normie" brother had about what would happen to his autistic brother.

Can you imagine, before you have children, before you have a pet, before you have an apartment, your biggest fear is your sibling needing help and that you are the only one who can give it to him?  For me, that is an awful fear.  What a weight the child must carry in such a situation.  How can a parent comfort such fears?  "Oh don't worry, we'll have money to take care of him."  I'm not totally sure that would work for me.  I would worry that the money would disappear or worse be stolen.  I would figure out ways to make sure the money would be safe.  I would toss and turn at night after dreams of seeing my sibling lost and alone.

Or as this sibling pointed out: "We forced him into our world, it would be awful to see him all alone in the world he was forced to be part of."

These thoughts just make me nervous.... then something else dawns on me.... shouldn't the government be taking care of us? ... ahhhh, I'm so Canadian...