Bad assumptions

Today's post brought to you by this blog post someone shared on Crackbook. http://sylcell.wordpress.com/2014/05/31/to-the-lady-ashamed-of-being-pregnant-with-her-fourth/

I was not so much ashamed of being pregnant with my 5th, but just defensive. I got a few comments with my 3rd. "Oh, good, you are finally having a girl after 2 boys. You can stop now."
I got a ton more with my 4th. "don't you know what causes that?" "Don't you have tv/internet?" "are you Catholic or Mormon?"  So, naturally, I was guarded with my 5th. I was having my own internal struggles with it as it was. I did not need other people adding to it. But add to it they did. Because people are rude, insensitive, and can't see beyond the end of their own noses, they decided it was ok to say things they should keep to themselves. And because they didn't keep it to themselves, I took to my blog about it in response.

Then there is the assumption that parents with larger-than-average families are unintelligent, incapable, or "just a housewife".  I am reasonably intelligent, more capable than most women and a few men, and if you saw my house, you would not call me a housewife. MamaX3 has a degree, mad skills that I could only dream of possessing, plays more instruments than I can even name, sings, and runs me in circles. Someone said that she was "just a housewife". A short time later, a Disney movie was on and the kids were singing, so MamaX3 joined the song. The visitor was impressed. And MamaX3 took that moment to inform the visitor of her academic accomplishments, musical ability, a few skills, and tied it nicely in a bow with a pointed glare and "I CHOOSE to raise my children."


We are raising people who will be more compassionate, considerate, resourceful, and helpful than the bulk of the parents around us will raise their kids to be. We will raise people who go on to do excellent things, some may even do extraordinary things that impact history. We will be satisfied with raising people who do any variation of those things, and simply have great positive impact on those around them. So, while you're busy making a bad assumption about those of us with more than 2.3 children, we're a little busy helping shape your world of tomorrow. I've got 5 funny, intelligent, resourceful, and considerate souls who have already done some great stuff. What's your contribution?

Marrying young has advantages

I never thought I'd marry young, or have this many kids. But life has taken many scenic tours for us, despite what I call our Grand Plans of Marvelous Theory. Here we are, 2 decades together, still running headlong into the cloud of insanity that is our life.

A cousin who is 4 months older than our freshly minted Marine son, got married in May 2013. The same year in December, a friend's daughter who is about the same age got married. And no, neither one was a shotgun wedding. Of course, that has been the assumption and accusation, however unfair and inaccurate it might be.

Colin over at Catholic Husband shared a blog on his Crackbook wall that has me saying a whole-hearted AMEN. In the time of most marriages failing, regardless of the age of the spouses in the beginning of the marriage, there seems to be a resurgence of marrying young instead of waiting till mid-life crisis leers in the wings. And yes, a lot of young marriages HAVE crumbled. But not all of them do. In fact, some of the stronger marriages I've seen (and lived) are those initiated at a tender age.

Here, let me just copy what was posted on Early Mama as written by Gemma Hartley.

So here are 7 reasons I love my young marriage:
We Get To Grow Up Together
There’s certainly something to be said for “finding yourself” before settling down. But I think there’s something equally, if not more wonderfully, beneficial about growing up alongside your husband. Getting to experience such a vast majority of your life together — to grow as individuals side-by-side — is utterly amazing.
I’ve been able to watch my husband transform from the long-haired, baby-faced teenager I used to make-out with at house parties into a hardworking, loving husband and father. Living through that sort of transformation can deepen your respect and strengthen your bond. (Not to mention you'll probably have some epic stories to tell your kids.)
We're More Flexible
In the same way young motherhood has the advantage of flexibility, so does young marriage. We didn't have enough time to get set in our ways, so we've been more open to compromise. Because we got married in our early 20s, we were still figuring out how to "live like grown ups" — which wasn't only easier to do together, but more fun. The thrill of upgrading from a folding card table to a real-deal wood dining table is so much better when you have someone to share the experience with.
We Know the Statistics
Trust me, no one is more aware of the grim statistics surrounding young marriage than people who get married young. Relatives, friends, acquaintances and even complete strangers seem oddly eager to tell us how our relationship is doomed – how we’re naïve to think it could ever work, because just look at the facts! And yes, we know there are plenty of people shaking their heads behind our backs as well.
But you know what? Being aware of the statistics just makes us more determined to beat the odds. I think we are more willing to do the work to make our marriage successful because we know there are people out there waiting for us to fail — and we want to prove them wrong. I think we know better than most that problems will arise, and I believe knowing that makes us more apt to rise to those inevitable challenges.
Easier Parenting Transition
The transition into parenthood is never easy, but I do believe young marriages have a major advantage here. When you’re used to crazy schedules and not having lots of extra “me” money or nice vacations, becoming parents is not such a huge lifestyle adjustment. I think young couples are more prepared to roll with the punches, and that goes a long way in parenting.
Accomplishing Milestones Together
Of course most couples get to go through the major milestone of becoming parents together. Young couples, however, get to experience all sorts of amazing milestones side-by-side. Graduating high school or college, moving into your first crappy off-campus apartment, landing that first big job, saving up for your first grown-up car – these are awesome experiences my husband and I get to share in addition to becoming parents.
No Wedding-Fever Pressure
When my husband and I got married, we were definitely the first among our friends. Now we’re going to a lot more weddings, have a lot more married friends, and feel a lot more “normal.” In a few more years, we’ll become the majority and our unmarried friends might begin feeling the pressure to settle down – whether they’re ready or not.
In Meg Ray’s TED talk "Why 30 is not the new 20," she describes the enormous pressure that comes when everyone around you seems to suddenly marry at once. She describes the story often sounding like, “Dating in my twenties was like musical chairs, everybody was running around and having fun. But then sometime around 30 it was like the music turned off and everybody started sitting down. I didn’t want to be the only one left standing up.”
Marrying young has left that pressure off my plate completely, and even though I don’t think about it often, it is a huge relief.
A Great Romance
Great love stories can happen at any age. But the wild and passionate romance of a young relationship is a force to be reckoned with. We made-out in the backs of cars and held hands under the lunch table and stayed up all night day-dreaming and kissed beneath the Reno Arch at midnight to ring in a new year. We’ve done things too inappropriate to write out for the world to see, because we know what it is to be young and in love.
Young marriages get to run the whole course from young and stupid to old and wise. It’s a beautiful journey to make together, and one I wouldn’t trade for the world.
***

Yes, all of this fits us. Yes, we have endured some things that would have toppled anybody else's marriage. And yes, there are days at least one of us has wanted to punt the spouse to the curb with Wednesday's trash pickup. But the difference was that we were doggedly determined to prove those naysayers wrong, and make them eat their own words. Plus, in our case, the romance is still alive. That is documented by the ages of our five children - 20, 19, 11, 4, and the newest sprog born a few weeks ago.
Wedding pressure? Yes, we skipped that in spades. We eloped, and didn't keep contact with most of the peers. Between the 2 of us, less than a handful of the friendships we had as kids survived into adulthood. We felt no pressure in that regard what so ever.
Milestones? WHOOOOboy do we ever have a litany of those.
Parenting? We did this whole thing backwards, and got married after having 2 kids together.
Yes, we know the statistics, but we ignore them in favor of diving into what happens in our own household, not that of the millions of others with problems. It's none of my business really. I have enough on my plate, that I don't need to go LOOKING for problems that aren't mine to solve.
Flexibility? Yea, I learned a lot of that while Devildog was serving in the Marine Corps. We've got that covered, and SOOOO much more.
Growing up together? We did that with our kids too. And to tell the truth, we are still just big kids with big responsibilities. Our bodies tell a different story, but our hearts, minds, and souls decry the body's complaints. We are still young at heart, and that will serve us well when our children finally all fly the nest. We still have a lot of living to do together.

Kathryn's plight

I interrupt my usual snarky banter with something important.
Please keep this girl, her family, and those tasked with her medical care in your thoughts and prayers, as they embark on a long journey. After many days and nights of searching for an answer to the problem, she has been given a diagnosis. And it's a heartbreaking situation.

http://catholichusband.wordpress.com/2013/12/31/kathryn-gets-a-horrific-diagnosis-and-needs-a-miracle/

More Dave

After devouring a couple of his books, I've been listening to Dave Ramsey podcasts for weeks, in an effort to retrain my brain about how it thinks about money. It's slowly working. I'm trying to reach my husband, to plant seeds of new information in hopes of guiding him to thinking differently about our money. I keep praying for guidance, wisdom and the right words to do this. And then Dave shared this blog link on Twitter. Oh, I see she's met my husband. Except, I try not to go all "Dave Says" at every turn like some well meaning folks do. Devildog hasn't turned the same corner yet, like she did. I have hope he will. It's just a matter of when.

fiber funny

One of my yarn shop pals brought this to my attention. Not everyone understands the appeal of knitting and crocheting and what it does for people like me. Yes, it's just string and a hook or some pointy sticks. Yes, I could go pay $5 for some sweater that everybody else got from the big box super-retailer. But, I do enjoy taking a length of string and making it into something else. I'm trying to use up my current yarn stash to get rid of the cheap stuff I bought as a newb who didn't know better. I couldn't imagine paying $5 for a ball or skein of yarn, much less a sweater's worth of it at that price. Now - I get it. I understand the pull of nicer yarn, and want to upgrade my stash. So, I found myself involved with a blanket project group, and now have several squares crafted of acrylic yarn awaiting my next trip to the post office. It's a win-win, in that I deplete the stash and the yarn gets put to good use and blesses some other folks. Yes, I got the yarn with the intention of making things for specific people out of it. However, if in the time since 2005 when I figured out the crochet hook, and 2007 when someone helped me learn the knitting needles, I have not found the first end of those skeins and made those intended projects - it is time for the yarn to be elsewhere.
Which leads me to this: the nicer yarn is apparently addicting. Someone related the addiction to something non-knitters could probably understand a little better. So here you go, The Yarn/Drug Compendium.

Balancing Act

One of my high school classmates posted a blog link on Facebook from a frazzled mom trying to balance everything. I can understand that one. I started my family at a young age. I was inordinately fortunate that the guy who was unrelenting in his pursuit of me was raised right, and didn't shirk his responsibilities. This summer will mark 18 years ago that we met. Not everyone can say some or any of that about the person who is their child's other parent. It hasn't been all easy, but that's how life works. It took me a long time to learn how to do for myself. I long neglected the woman who was behind the roles of wife and mother, etc. It made things a big mess of resentment, frustration and unkindness. I don't ever want to find myself there again. There is value in a woman that takes care of herself in the same way she cares for her family. So, yes, I do keep my closet with clothes that make me look good and fit me well. And I can't bring myself to pay full retail for anything, so I look good on a budget too. My husband deserves to see his wife looking nice, and not looking like a schlub. It serves to remind him that he needs to tell me how much he's attracted to me and loves me. Which then reminds me that I need to pay attention to him individually, and not just collectively as if he were one of the children. It's also kind of nice to see the envious look my husband gets from his peers. You can read their faces and almost know what they're thinking. He is indeed a lucky Devildog. His wife still looks good after 4 babies escaped her person, and we're still together this long to boot.

A big part of my parenting philosophy is that I should put myself out of work as a mother. It will allow me to be other things to my children and their children later. I also can't fathom the thought of being a helicopter mommy. Some kids require that, but not mine. I wouldn't dream of being a lawnmower mommy, knocking down the obstacles in front of my children. Lord knows, I grew up having to be my own lawnmower, and that was difficult enough. I can't imagine doing either mowing or hovering for four kids. I'm tired as it is being a slacker mom, I'd be dead if I hovered or mowed. So, I have been teaching my kids those things I call life skills. They are learning to cook, tend house, handle money, and deal with other people. I get looks ranging from impressed amazement to having 12 heads on my shoulders when others hear that my kids do their own laundry from a certain age. I certainly don't want visits home from college to be spent with me doing 3 months' of their laundry. I also don't want to wear those blue gloves to do their laundry, because as teens, they are walking biohazards. So, basically, I equip them to do for themselves, and function independently of me. I don't live my life FOR my children. I live my life WITH them. I pursue my interests, and what makes me happy. Number one, they need to see my example of doing that. Number two, quite simply, I need the break from my kids. Number 3, and quite important - keeping my own self busy will prevent me from being that Mother-in-Law. You know, the meddling, needling, intrusive one that behaves in such a way that the kids move far away because I drive them nuts. In an attempt to get the kids closer, the cajoling, the backhandedness, the everything of a Mother-in-hell, it all backfires. I don't want my grandchildren to see their parents visibly sigh in relief that I left this earth, and them in peace from no longer dealing with my antics.

So, the juggle and struggle becomes worth it in the end, because eventually, I will have put myself out of work as their mother. I will then get the opportunity to learn how to be their friend, and watch what I taught them play out in their own lives. I just pray that my children find mates that are worthy, capable, and balance my children - much like my husband and I are for each other.

Universal Donor 2

I am what you could call a Universal Donor. My husband, the Devildog, has some dominant genes, and all four kids have his blood type. Not one of these suckers have mine. Story of my life, it seems like I've got what everyone (in my house at least) else wants or needs.
However, last year when I donated blood in January, little did I know I was going to need to keep that blood. OOOPS. No wonder I had a stronger than usual reaction to the donation. It was December when I finally donated again. So, that meant it would be February when I could donate blood. I dragged 3 of the 4 kids with me. It's a long story why, and I won't bore you with it. MaNiC MoMMy does a virtual blood drive and her deadline looms, which is the only reason I'm getting around to posting this. I live by flying by the skin of my blessed assurance apparently.

In any case, I went to donate and the vampires - they love me. I have good veins that behave and don't roll. I had the Oldest Boy take the picture. It was difficult for him because he wasn't on the front side of the camera this time. He followed instructions better than Devildog did last year though. He got more than just my arm in the picture. However, he caught me looking down at something, and I look like I've got my eyes closed. And then when I was done, we got freezer pizzas from the grocery store even though I really wanted the kind from a pizza place (name withheld), and I went home and had to have a nap. This is why I schedule my donations for Fridays. I can go home and slack around and not do anything the rest of the day. And I'm incredibly thankful that even though I have FOUR spawn, they are spread apart in age and they entertained the mini-human till she needed feeding...because I've got the good stuff somebody else inevitably wants or needs.

A few smirk-worthy things

First of all, my pal Sunny sent something for the Crazy Lady to taunt so go check that out. Then come back here...or just click on that link in a minute when you're done reading this one.

At church today my dear friend E. sat next to us. It was nice to see her, she's been having some health issues, and teenage-son-becoming-adult-age issues and since I have your attention, keep this family in your prayers. Beast has been helping the ushers for quite some time now, and has pretty much been assimilated into their fold. It's prompted a lot of changes in him and his appearance at Mass. There were times he'd go play by the retention pond while I was at Mass, or he'd pitch a fit and sit in the bushes like a garden gnome (kid you not). He's gone from wearing wrinkled t-shirts and khakis to wearing less wrinkled collared shirts and khakis. Then he moved to dark pants and collared shirts. Then Clone's Godmother gave him a dress shirt and he snagged one of Devildog's ties. He outgrew that shirt fast enough and I had to buy him a bigger one. Then this week was the 8th grade semi-formal and he had to have a jacket to go. A sweet Salvation Army find, and on a day the blue and white tags were half off...$5 later, he has a jacket. So he was wearing that today as well, and lots of comments were shared on his new appearance. At one point, E. saw Beast and leaned over to Clone and asked "Is that your brother?"
Clone was busy filling out and doodling on her offering envelope, but looked up at E. and with a straight face, said "nope, I've never seen him before in my life."

When I asked what she said, and got the answer, I had a hard time containing my mirth. Do you know how difficult it is to not cackle during Mass?

Universal Donor

That's what I am, and the vampires love me. Um, yea, I mean the blood bank. I donated for the first time last year and it was something I'd wanted to do for a long time but was way too chicken to do it. Then, the radio station across the street was doing a blood drive and I was done working for the week, plus they reportedly had pancakes. By the time they got me out of there, the pancakes were gone and I still needed additional nourishment. The lady that took my blood the first time was celebrating her birthday too. She told me to squeeze the stress ball thing and hold it. When I delivered my spawn, the nurses loved that I was not a "roller" and it was easy to get an IV in my arm. I told blood bank lady I have good veins and I might shower her if I held it. She said it would be alright and to just hold it. I warned her, but she didn't listen. She got fireworks for her birthday. I can't look when I get a needle stuck in me, I hate the pinch, why would I want to WATCH? Between that sharp pinch and being drained, I sometimes avoid the calls at the 2 month mark because I know I haven't eaten well enough to handle the depletion, and I have to allot a full day because I need to recover. I didn't have time to commit to recovery and I wasn't eating well in December, so I missed that 2 month point as usual. I was going to go in January, but hadn't scheduled the visit. Then I got to visiting Dawn's blog and she has a pal doing a virtual blood drive. Talk about some extra motivation! As it turns out, the next day the blood bank called to schedule a donation. I made the appointment for Friday and off I went. So, I had Devildog go along to take pictures, advising him only get me in the picture and no one else (that whole HIPPA & privacy thing, plus other permission/copyright stuff). So, what does he do?

He takes a picture of me with the blood pressure cuff on my arm, before any vampire work is done, and then he gets a picture of the nurse/phlebotemist with the needly contraption.









So, I took a picture of myself in the truck holding the little paper they give you to go online later and check your cholesterol etc. I probably should have waited till I got home, but by that time I was feeling the effects of having my blood removed from me, whatever amount it was, weighing 620 of some sort of measurement. If you look, you can see the goofy bandaid on my middle finger from the spot where they test your blood. That test alone makes me thankful I'm not diabetic. That junk HURTS. And the needle pinch...my inner elbow is still tender. But I would do it all over again. Perhaps taking the children with me to donate will spark an interest in them when they're eligible to donate. And maybe they'll be drained just enough to be quiet for a while and leave me in some peace and quiet. My kids are the same blood type as Devildog, which is that of universal recipient. Once again, my life demonstrates the humor of this situation. Me the universal donor, and the rest of my yayhoos being the universal recipients.

Go donate blood if you can. Since there's only so much meat on my bones, I can only give so much personally. Except my family still has me on their Universal Donor list for everything else of mine.

because wasting time is so much fun

I got sucked into Pioneer Woman's blog again (it's soooo incredibly easy to get sucked in, that place is like a shop-vac kind of vortex). She linked to despair.com and they have a nifty DIY feature. So I played with pictures I had on my hard drive and uploaded one, and made this poster. I'm a tad impressed with myself and my snarky bent, and just narcissistic enough to share it with you.















Then I thought more on it, and came up with this one, which is even more demotivating than the first

I see you Mike

I was putzing around when I should have been asleep recently...and found that I'm in someone's blogroll...Thank You Mike
Now, is it because you have far too many links in your blog roll (but you get an A+++ for alphabetizing them) that you haven't commented? Did you initially add me because you thought my picture was worthy of sharing? I could understand what would make you do that. According to some reliable sources not present on the web, I have a certain kind of impact on the male species. I don't entirely see things the same way this source does, so it's all a matter of perspective. Is it because I'm Catholic and I'm not generally all that openly pious or something? I have to keep the hellraiser tendencies in check somehow, or this would be an entirely different blog, I'm sure. Gwendy told me that every time she visits, my pictures scares her. I don't know why. The 9mm's don't do as much damage as .40 cal's do. She really doesn't have as much to worry about. Devildog doesn't let me play with the hollow points. So really, I'm about as harmless as a kitten, unless provoked. It honestly is safer to feed me first to earn my trust...sort of true. If Chris thinks she can trust me, and Shannon or Sunny hasn't dispatched any Mounties, we should be cool. Persnickety has known me since before I was this cool and she never ignored me. Really Mike..I feel unloved just a bit. But I guess you'll have to talk to Carri, because she's able to tolerate my half yankee tendencies, sullied by 16 years of life with my Devildog and his redneck family. Kristin hasn't had to call the Pentagon on me or anything, and believe me, she's got connections like that. Seriously Mike, I'm not that bad. I'm sure Mrs Soersdal prays for me at times, but I don't think it's the kind of fervent prayer that St. Monica did for her son. Tracy hasn't dispatched her son and his platoon to seize me for interrogation or anything. I mean, I could hit the broad side of a barn for the most part but I'm no threat to any security. Nikki is the rocker kind of chick and she hasn't thrown me to the mosh pit. For the love of Pete, Mike, Chrissy even takes my suggestions for repair people and actually allows them in her home. So Mike, since you have me in your blog roll, at least occasionally say Hi or something. I start getting a tad paranoid, but only a tad. I mean I do have the .9mm and I know how to use it. The thing is, Devildog makes me clean it if I do, so I'm not quite as trigger-happy as you might think. I prefer to avoid having to clean much of anything. I'm a bit of a diva like that. I haven't taken the concealed weapons permit class yet, so I can't pack that much heat. I DO have a big mouth and a temper, but it would take a lot for me to unleash the lead. And like I said, Devildog doesn't let me play with the hollow-points. See Mike, you have nothing to worry about really.

*for the record, aside from Mike, the individuals mentioned here are currently listed as following my blog. Please don't take offense for being left out of this post if you read, post or don't post, or follow anonymously. But if you read this, I welcome comments, just be civil.

All Hallow's Eve

I was stalking Pioneer Woman again, so my post is shamelessly "inspired" by her post about her kids' costumes.
Costumes...as I understand and recall, it was supposed to mask one's true identity from the evil spirits so they couldn't bother you. Ya know, like Uncle Robert trying to tell you which specific floorboard held the loot? It's progressed into a creative free-for-all of sorts on many levels. I've seen some tremendous effort and energy expended all for the sake of a good laugh and scare on Halloween. What costumes have you done?

I've been a dead bride - complete with a lipstick blood line down my face. All because Honeymoon Hannah here decided to step in front of the television while the football game was on.

I've taken Devildog's cammies and worn them to work at a military assistance agency on Halloween. I made sure I was un-uniform about it, but other branches thought I was legit. I nearly got taken aside by a Staff Sgt for a "period of instruction".

I've gone as the Tupperware Queen when I sold the stuff, so I could try to drum up business...sort of worked, but my execution was lacking I'm sure.

I've been the frazzled House-frau: pajamas, slippers, curlers, hair askew, green face mask. The trick? Noxema and food coloring, mixed well in a separate container and don't directly touch the food coloring (don't ask how I know). It never occured to me to slather a layer of noxema on first and let it set before I slathered the green layer. I could have avoided a need for exfoliation lol.
I might try this trick next time I go to a football game...(note to self, add food coloring to shopping list) maybe I'll be seen on the Jumbo-tron...

I'm always running around on Halloween, and stuff always gets scheduled for that day for some reason. I don't get the "home day" I'd like to prepare. And lord knows what Beast will concoct for his costume. It's no suprise he isn't prepared for this, as he's not even been working on the science or history fair projects that should be in the works by now.

And now my hands itch for some reason.....making it a challenge to type. Nevermind the fact that I should have been in bed 2 hours ago....I will use the excuse that I was waiting on laundry and that's why I was up. It's my story and I'm sticking to it. See? the house-frau thing really wasn't that much of a stretch for me either....

Appealing to my inner diva & tightwad tendencies

OK, so I found myself distracted and sidetracked on some other blog after searching for something real estate related. Don't ask, you're doing well to be reading this as it is. My A.D.D. has gone off the wall lately. I will blame work this week - extensive stuff going on and I'm glad to be almost done. Now, back to where I started with this. We want to buy a house, so I was searching for stuff, and used a handy-dandy search engine to find out about a company, subsequently finding a blog about telecommuting and other stuff this chick shares. I of course followed a blog roll link too. One of her blog buddies listed something for this new website due to launch later this month. HandbagPlanet.com is giving away a free bag every hour for 24 hours.
I like a few of the styles I see so far, and have shared samples of what I considered when I registered. You now have the opportunity to do the same. Go scope it out and see for yourself. While you're there, enter to win one. Just a first name and an email address get the job done. I am glad they appreciate my valuable time and don't ask for my life history or firstborn (not everyone is cut out for dealing with him anyway). Plus I doubt my A.D.D.-laden brain could handle the process at this point.

Handbag Planet’s Free Handbag Every Hour Official Rules.
Handbag Planet’s Privacy Policy.

I've always been blamed for stuff

Recently I was trolling on my usual blog haunts and came across the intrepid Suburban Correspondent's post Home Remedies (Geopolitical and Otherwise) where Heather said she had a millionty gallstones removed from her person some moons ago. Well she offered a picture...I politely requested to see it. Hey! She OFFERED! I'm often up for a good trainwreck, including the medical variety. So, she obliged. Then blamed moi for it. I did mention that she OFFERED to share the picture right? It's a good thing we aren't siblings...somebody could've lost an eye or something. She's lucky it was just GALLSTONES.

How well do you know your husband?

I was blog trolling again today. Came across this post elsewhere, and since these were things I was actually thinking about (or at least along those lines) just yesterday, I thought "eh, I'll play". So here goes:

1. Sitting in front of the TV, what's on the screen?
ESPN, Madden football on the PS2, or as it happens while I type this, some sort of action/thriller type of movie.

2. You're out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad?
Ranch

3. What's one food he doesn't like?
The list of things he will eat is shorter but he will NOT eat okra.

4. You go out to the bar. What does he order?
Amber Bock, Killians, Miller Lite

5. Where did he go to high school?
Paxon

6. What size shoe does he wear?
9 -oops, he said 10

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be?
softball teams

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich?
A burger stacked with as many patties as possible with cheese layered between each one, no condiments, no salad.

9. What would this person eat every day if he could?
Beef and potatoes in whatever form it arrived. Burger and fries, steak and fries, burger and chips, steak and baked potato

10. What is his favorite cereal?
Cocoa crispies

11. What would he never wear?
a speedo or a skirt

12. What is his favorite sports team?
Jacksonville Jaguars, Florida Gators, Atlanta Braves

13. Who will he vote for?
If he voted, I wouldn't know who he selected since we don't share that information with each other.

14. Who is his best friend?
Me, J.C.S., R.K., T.K

15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn't do?
whine, bite my nails, sit in front of the computer way too much

16. How many states has he lived in?
2 and 1 other country

17. What is his heritage?
Irish, American Indian, English via France (way back during the Crusades)

18. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what kind of cake?
Anything I bake is well received, but his favorites involve chocolate.

19. Did he play sports in high school?
Football, baseball, soccer, basketball (in the hood, not at school) and spent time as a band geek. - oops, apparently he did play basketball on a school team, but it must've been before we met.

20. What could he spend hours doing?
Playing PS2

21. Does he belong to any men's organizations?
City Recreation League Softball

For this meme, I will tag:

The woman reading this.

Trolling generates a WTF?

I was updating my blog to include some additional links, and trolled around, landing at THIS. Scroll down to the third picture of that entry. That's as far as I got before I ran back here to post the link. One can only say "WTF?"

Trolling adventures with babies

Not sure entirely HOW I came across this other blog except I clicked links in other bloggers' posts and opened a new tab and lo and behold I have new entertainment. I love the randomness of some blogs. I find it exceptionally hilarious that it was posted on a very Catholic blog too. Who said God had no sense of humor? Oh wait, if that was you, then you obviously didn't pay attention to ... well anything. Go back under your rock after you read that blog. If you're going to act like a mushroom, at least be entertained while you're there.