Two and two half paws.

Authentic Tea, Frankenstein and a lovely state of exhaustion.

2012-01-26T11:23:00.001-06:00

Authentic Tea:

Yesterday I had a powerful craving for something sweet. I don't allow myself, during the week, to have sweets. Dilemma. Fortunately I remembered that I had some vanilla chai tea and I remembered that being a rather sweet drink. I dug it out, read the directions for "authentic" chai tea, and brewed a cup. Absolutely delicious. For such a simple recipe (boil 1 C. water with 1/4C. milk with the tea bag, simmer for two minutes) I felt quite proud of myself. I think it's because I had transitioned from drinking tea made in an unauthentic way to an authentic one.

Frankenstein:

I had to read this book for school. Yes, I did say I wasn't going to school, and I meant it. Then the first day of school came around and I was a miserable, emotional wreck. I even cried (I don't normally cry). So Damm fixed it by discovering that I can get the Pell Grant-the entire amount-if I have six credit hours. So I am now in two classes: one a Science Fiction course, and one a military history/social course. They're fun in content and I don't foresee them being stressful.

Anyway, I had to read this book for school. I had already read it and remembered loving it. I'm not too sure what I loved about it; a little kid dies and Victor Frankenstein was a pompous @#$. Apparently in Mary Shelley's first version Frankenstein took some responsibility for his actions, but when she revised it in 1831 she took that away and made him more of a victim of destiny. Baloney, in my opinion. I think we were supposed to have some sort of compassion for the monster (in the book the monster is never, ever given Frankenstein's name and that is a crucial point) but I was unable to muster any given his crimes.

The point of reading this book for my class is that it is the first example of Science Fiction. Our prof theorizes that the transition from the Enlightenment to the Industrial Revolution was responsible for this new literary style. For the first time a person could be born in one world, technologically speaking, and die in another. That was not the way it had historically been; parents expected that their children would grow up and live and die using the same technology they had. So, viewed in that light, the book is pretty interesting.

Exhaustion:

Between taking care of the kiddos, working a demanding physical job, training for the Bataan march and fitting in homework sessions I've lost and inch and a half (yay!). The downside of that is that I've been exhausted. That was somewhat remedied by the nap I took yesterday. It was a memorable one: Miniorc fell asleep with me, the heater was on ensuring the room was nice and warm and I was surrounded by nice, soft pillows. I don't take naps often so anytime I do I make note of it:) There wasn't really a point of relating this nap to you but it was just so darn relaxing that I included the experience.

Next up is the War of the Worlds. I've seen both movies but I don't think I've ever read the book. Should be interesting.

I thought we were a few years away from this conversation.

2012-01-19T22:13:00.000-06:00

This is the Orclette two years ago. She's still that size in my head, and I suspect I will always, at least in some way, picture her as my little baby. Yes, this is relevant to the topic.

So this afternoon I was looking for some way to entertain the Orclette and Miniorc. It had been a loooong day; first day of school for Damm and an emotional one for me as everyone started school and I didn't. I got out the removable "Cars 2" tattoos and put one on the Miniorc's hand. He flipped out, crying and asking me to take it off. I'm guessing he's observed mine don't come off and he thought I'd put one like mine on him. I removed his "tattoo", told him I wouldn't do such a terrible thing to him again, and we were all good.

The Orclette was cool as a cucumber, picking out the ones she wanted and sitting completely still as we waited the thirty seconds necessary for the design to transfer. For some reason I thought this would be a good moment to mention that real tattoos don't come off as easily as these did and that she was going to wait until she was eighteen and probably shouldn't get one anyway and that if she did it should be somewhere she could easily cover it up and she better pay cash for it (imagine I said all that without pausing and with increasing intensity). She looked at me very seriously after my mini-lecture and said "well, I'll probably get one when I'm eighteen".

Should never have brought it up. At least she told me she planned to disregard my advice, unlike myself who disregarded my mother's advice and let her discover it later (that was a really bad moment, when she spotted my first tattoo). And there's still time to persuade her not to get it smack-dab in the middle of her chest area. I now have sympathy for my mother, who probably carries around a toddler-sized image of me in her head. I can't imagine that little cutie in the picture letting heavily tattooed men tattoo her to the sound of really bad rock music. My, how times have changed.

The best feeling ever.

2012-01-16T14:58:00.001-06:00

This past summer I had to have my wisdom teeth removed. I'm not averse to some pain but the thought of being awake while my teeth, one of them impacted, were pulled out was a bit much. So I opted for sedation surgery. It was amazing: the stuff they gave me was incredibly relaxing, and it was better than the moment my epidural hit after eighteen hours of labor (but not by much). The day after, which was filled with sleeping and then more sleeping, was also heaven.

The absolute best moment, though, was about a week after the surgery. I had been trying to get through the day without Percocet, because I had read it's highly addictive and I didn't want to take any chances. I wasn't healing as fast as I should have been, however, so the doctor told me I should take the Percocet. I obeyed. One Sunday morning I got up early, as is my habit, and got some homework done. I was still extremely tired, though, because both Damm and I push ourselves incredibly hard during the semester (it takes weeks for us to physically and mentally recover). So I took my Percocet and decided to cuddle with my kids and Damm on the bed. I fell back asleep-something that doesn't usually happen-and that feeling as I succumbed to the effects of the drug surpassed the epidural and the sedation surgery.

Since then I haven't felt relaxed. I'm making progress, now that the decision not to go back to school has been made. But that feeling of complete and total inertia has been hard to replicate (because I have no desire to become dependent on any type of drug), at least until I restarted my yoga practice. I don't typically do the harder versions of yoga; I prefer slow and gentle. And today, while I was going through a series of forward bends, I achieved that feeling of complete inertia, of total relaxation. It was felicity.

All that to say, if you're anxiety-ridden or stressed out, try yoga. I like Rodney Yee's videos, and Shiva Rea is also excellent. If you're wanting a workout, you could try Jillian Michael's "Yoga Meltdown", but it doesn't deliver the same impact (in my opinion). Trudy Styler, wife of Sting, also has a yoga video out that is geared toward weight loss. I prefer that one over Michael's, because it stays closer to the classic yoga poses. If you need yoga gear try your local Barnes & Noble store; they have a good selection of yoga DVDs and mats, as well as the yoga towels, socks and gloves, all in pretty colors. Walmart has some supplies as well, as does Target.

Try yoga, and you won't be sorry, although it does take some time to stretch the muscles. Best feeling ever.

The notoriety of it all.

2012-01-13T08:27:00.001-06:00

I've been busy reading. First up on the list was Leslie Carroll's Notorious Royal Marriages, a book I had started before but suspected I hadn't finished. Turns out I did finish it that first time but I couldn't seem to put it down, it was so depressing. Being royal did mean power and money-most of the time-but it also was synonymous with heartache and depression. Henry VIII? Went through six wives and never found true happiness or contentment and worried to his dying day about the state of his soul because of his rift with the Pope (although it seems he never contemplated reversing his decision). Eleanor of Aquitaine, my personal favorite, was imprisoned for fifteen years because her husband, Henry Plantagenet, cheated on her and she had the temerity to be upset by it and to take action. She outlived him, however, and devoted herself to her sons, so I imagine she wasn't completely unhappy (although three of her sons died before she did, including her beloved Richard).

Then there were the modern-day royal marriages. Prince Charles had a girlfriend but she wasn't quite good enough for the royal court (which is rather funny, considering the antics of many of its members, living and dead) so he was instructed to find a proper royal womb. Diana fit the bill, and then millions of people tuned in to watch her walk down the aisle. Problem was, of course, that Charles had no intention of giving up his mistress. Diana could take action, however, something many of her predecessors could not do (although in other courts it seemed to be acceptable to discretely take a lover after the heir was born). She took lovers of her own and then decided to truly get back at the royal family, dishing about all the dirty laundry via the media. I must say I "hurrahed!" at this point, because I rather saw her as standing up for all the other English queens that had no voice (upon consideration I must add that I do not condone that action, but I completely understand why she did it). Then Diana's life came to a crashing halt and Prince Charles was free to marry the love of his life. It appears that there is some friction there, however, because Camilla is finding the life of a royal to be somewhat constricting.

Whew. That was only one modern marriage, but I think it's a good stopping point. That's not the only book I've been reading. I finished Dave Ramsay's The Money Answer Book this morning and my head is brimming full of ideas. It also put to rest most sympathy I had for the "we are the 99%!" protesters who have been sitting around and doing nothing, although they are asking for free money (which is a misnomer, someone is paying for it). Although some undoubtedly are having trouble finding a job I refuse to believe all of them can't find work. Wealth doesn't come easily (unless you inherit), most people have to sacrifice some creature comforts in order to attain it. I think we've (as a country) gotten away from the idea of hard work, pay cash, don't buy things unless you can afford them. I'm always amazed at the people who own nice cars yet live in dump heaps and have cable television yet complain they have no money. You can survive without those things and be happy.

Of course, there is an economic gap, and apparently that is something of concern because a shrinking middle class is not beneficial to an economy. I'm not an economist, neither am I a politician. I am, however, the daughter of an immigrant whose father and mother worked long, excruciating hours at a grocery store to save up enough money to eventually own their own business, several boats, and the latest in electronics and gadgets. On my mother's side I'm the descendant of many people who worked hard, saved hard, and now are wealthy. Right now I work full-time, my husband is ROTC and National Guard and working part-time and, in case that wasn't enough, going for his engineering degree. It's the first semester we haven't taken out loans (although of course that wasn't planned and at first I was really upset by it) and we will survive. Not only that, we will (if we stick to the budget, which is hard to do, I will be the first to admit) be able to put some money into savings. Upon graduation we won't have an increase in our living expenditures, although Damm will be making more than we pull in now. We'll be attacking our school debts, saving up for retirement, for our kids college funds. We don't have cable, we have an old car, we eat lots of rice and beans (although I do include enough variety in our diets to make sure we are healthy and that the kiddos are thriving), we don't go out to eat often and we won't be buying a home until we have enough to plunk a sizable amount of cash down. All that to say: if we can do it and have hope of being debt-free with a comfortable retirement and the ability to assist our kids, so can everyone else.

I will add (because I'm me and can't get away from putting myself in other people's shoes, even when I don't want to) that I don't like people being out on the streets, I don't want kids to go hungry, and I want everyone to find gainful employment. I might have little sympathy with the protesters (who seem to have gone away for the most part) but I do have empathy.

But enough of my sermonizing. Work hard, save hard and give hard. Now "hard" doesn't look like "hard", because I've typed it too many times. Does that happen to anyone else? When you look at a word too long and it looks weird? Anyway, Wulfa out.

Fidgety.

2012-01-10T09:17:00.003-06:00

And bored. Fidgety and bored. It happens regularly this time of year. I would just console myself with the thought of another semester starting but, for me, that is not happening. So my brain is restless, and nowhere was that more evident than in church this past Sunday. I normally pay attention, take notes, and I was doing that, but the hair distracted me. It did not move. It was completely hair sprayed into place. After watching this phenomenon for a while I turned my attention to the other hair styles in the room, noting those that were obviously hair spray-plastered and those that were allowed to move freely. I definitely appreciate the free-moving ones; the other ones are rather scary. Wasn't that fascinating? Elucidating?

I did think of expanding my culinary abilities. So far I have made macaroni and cheese (not from a box!), reduced-calorie macaroni and cheese (once I figured out how many calories were in regular macaroni and cheese), Irish Soda Bread, Bread Machine breads and tonight I'll be trying a new chicken recipe. That only takes up so much time, however. So I decided I would grow herbs in my kitchen. I don't particularly like herbs, but it would be a learning experience and would expand the brain parameters. I haven't begun yet; this is a rather new resolution.

I also got the ambitious bug and began adding non-fiction books to my Nook wish list. After doing that it occurred to me that I have a slew of books I have bought but haven't read/finished, like Barbara Mertz's "Temples, Tombs & Hieroglyphs", and "Our Lincoln" by Eric Foner (edited by him, rather), and other ones I'm too lazy to get up to check the titles of. I might also resume my forays into classical literature. My mother made sure I had a good grounding; I've read Austen, Bronte, Chaucer, de Cervantes, Dickens, Dumas, Hawthorne, Homer, Melville, Poe, Shakespeare, Shelley (adored "Frankenstein"!) Sophocles, Swift, Stevenson, Tolstoy, Twain and Voltaire (among others). I haven't read Steinbeck or Faulkner, though, and I didn't read "Moby Dick" (I read "Bartleby the Scrivener"). Neither have I read Dostoyevsky; I've tried but was defeated. A long ways to go, then, to round off my adventures in literature.

And now I'm off to decide which non-fiction book I will start (or finish) first. This might be somewhat distracting; I bought each book in a spasm of delight because it was simply amazing! I love the subject matter! etc. Never, ever let me loose in the history section of any bookstore. It's bad.

New Year's Eve

2012-01-05T21:44:00.001-06:00

I don't do New Year's resolutions. If I need to make a change I make it. I also don't tell a story if I'm in the midst of it but this story has been making itself known to those around us so I'll go ahead and share it with you guys as well.

Short version? I've suspended my schooling and Damm was put on academic probation. There's more to it than that, of course. We have appealed the probation; he has two hundred plus credits but only half of those count towards his degree and he's a student in good standing with an excellent GPA and he's a ROTC cadet with the full support of his cadre. (In case you're confused, academic probation means that he doesn't get any more financial aid, a big problem since we live off financial aid.)

The decision to suspend my schooling was a long time in coming. We had thought about it before but it never felt like the right time. This Christmas, however, I noticed that I wasn't recovering like I usually do. Neither were Damm or the kids, really. Our health has faltered, both mentally and physically. Our kids are being affected by our stress levels and the months between semesters are always tough because we're between loans.

I still would have proceeded with the semester if two more things hadn't happened: Damm's mom is moving and we have lost our babysitter. She watched the kiddos two to four hours per day during the week so we could get homework done; the thought of getting everything accomplished without her aid was staggering. Then I heard that my store needed someone to take care of certain sections and I jumped at the chance (I like being in charge of sections).

The hardest thing has been to tell people my change in plans. I dread the pep talks of "you can do it, don't stop because you won't go back" etc. I'm not a peppy little college kid wanting to "experience" life; I've got a life and I have to do what I can to maintain it. Fortunately, however, everyone I've told has been incredibly understanding. In fact, they wondered why I hadn't made the decision earlier because our schedule was insane. Believe it or not, working close to full-time leaves me more time with my kids and Damm than school.

And the story continues. I'm throwing myself into my new duties at work and Damm is following up on the appeal and looking for fallback options. I anticipate some hard moments when Damm returns to school; I loved being a student and leaving that world, even for a short time, was an incredibly hard decision. I'm comforted by the thought that I will finish my degree as soon as Damm finishes. I have looked into several online options although I would prefer to finish at NMSU. We shall see what the future holds.

Guess what I did last night?

2011-12-29T07:29:00.002-06:00

Yes, I was finally convinced to try a new game. It's the console version, which means a great deal of the time spent playing was taken up with Damm showing me how to work all the little toggles. Once or twice he laughed at me, but I can't blame him, my character did look funny running into walls and other things. I had created a human warrior but I might be switching-an entire family, including a little boy, dies. It is just a game but stuff like that instantly takes the fun out of it for me. I am guessing most of the plot lines are depressing, though, so Damm might have to play me past the sad parts.

Anyhoo, there you are.

Christmas Adventures

2011-12-27T09:47:00.001-06:00

We are back, loaded with presents and pastries. It was an interesting week, one in which I was deprived of my laptop because it needed repairs, so no posting. I'm not sure I would've remembered to; when we first switch to a new schedule I have a tendency to forget things. Anyhow, here are some snippets from our Christmas Adventures:

1) The trip up was the most delightful twelve hours we've ever driven. When there are four adults in the car it seems they can contrive to keep two little kids happy.

2) I was told, by Damm's grandmother, to help myself to her coffee. It's that newfangled kind, with the little cup that brews one cup of coffee and costs about fifty cents each. I tried, I really did, to get my coffee elsewhere, but I have a suspicion that she didn't know about my "three cups to consciousness and the fourth to converse" habit (quotation shamelessly taken from a Julie Czenerda book and which I have adopted as my own).

3) Speaking of coffee, this is the first Christmas I have been gifted coffee. I've never asked for it, but I'm surprised that it's taken this long for someone to think of it, given my coffee mania.

4) Miniorc threw a fit about having to open a present. He's like me: too many people + new surroundings = disaster. Damm's grandmother had wanted them to open a present a night and the Orclette was delighted. Miniorc was wondering why all the adults were pressuring him to tear some paper apart. When we got to the present part-a book-he threw it down on the ground and yelled "No!"

5) Damm and his brothers played ENDLESS rounds of Settlers of Catan and Shanghai. I think they had fun, although those games can get pretty violent in tone (although I have been told that's how they communicate love to each other).

6) The Orclette proved she can be sensitive. One night, about midway through the visit, Damm's grandmother was visibly tired and, like many people, had gotten a bit snippy (bear in mind that my kids get LOUD and have no volume control). The Orclette fled to our bedroom and asked me to sit with her until her great-grandmother had had her "quiet time". After I got over my initial impulse to defend my poor offspring I realized this was a good thing: she had figured out how to make it quiet enough for her great-grandma without being told.

7) I had an awesome time with my sister-in-law. We went shopping, wrapped gifts, baked cookies (well, she baked cookies and I watched as she masterfully flew threw the kitchen whipping up dainties and delights).

8) My parents came for a couple of days and they brought Damm's favoritist game ever: Diplomacy. Turns out my dad had played the game when he was younger and they eagerly pored over the instructions for a couple of hours.

9) I ordered 12 Angry Men, Blueray, Criterion edition for my brother. He ordered 12 Angry Men, Blueray, Criterion edition for my dad. My dad ordered 12 Angry Men, Blueray, Criterion edition for my brother. My brother called me later to laugh over our "gift of the Magi" episode.

10) I pulled the muscle I was supposed to be resting by getting out of Damm's grandmother's incredibly comfy couch. No one believed me and defended the couch, but I know when my muscle began to spasm and it was as I got out of the couch.

11) Damm spent two hours putting together the kitchen set his grandmother had gotten the kids. They were properly grateful and spent another two hours playing happily with it, although Miniorc began to open some of the play food that came with it in hopes of eating it.

12) Last night I had planned to stay up after putting the kids to bed. We were going to watch "Conan" (the new one) and enjoy a night alone at last. I had underestimate the power of a 3 a.m. wake up followed by eleven hours of driving. I fell asleep while putting the kids to bed, woke up some time later and dragged myself out to the living room, and then fell asleep cuddled next to Damm while he played a video game. Not exactly romantic, but we did get alone time of a sort.

So there you are. We are back, there's no-place like home etc. I go back to work tonight, we go back to our frugalish diet and we start prepping for the upcoming semester. It's going to be a doozy: Damm's parents are moving due to a familial issue so it's just us now (something I do not fault them for, I'd be moving if I were in their situation). My parents are planning on moving here this summer so the fall semester will hopefully be easier but I'm increasingly glad that I have a very easy course load this semester. Enough of the doldrums. Today I brave the shops to scour the discounted Christmas stuff. It's gonna be fun.

PRESENTS, PRESENTS. PRESENTS EVERYWHERE

2011-12-16T11:25:00.000-06:00

My kids are being SPOILED this year. You see, my mother sent her "12 days of Christmas" package early in December. Then their other grandma did a similar series of presents. We're finally reaching the end, tomorrow will be the last day they open presents before Christmas. Well it would be, except I went to the Dollar Store and grabbed some new toys to pull out at regular intervals during our trip to Grandma's house. I wrapped them too, since I had paper left over from last year.

And when they get to Grandma's house (technically great-grandma, but they don't understand that difference)? MORE presents. She asked for the list in November. The day I sent it she emailed me back explaining everything she had gotten for them, which was every item on the list. They're going to have an AWESOME Christmas. Plus my parents are dropping by and that means even more presents ... sometimes it can be advantageous to be the only grand kids (yet, anyway) on both sides of the family.

But what is really, really cool is the Orclette's reaction to the Salvation Army bell/donation people outside of Walmart (are those ubiquitous?) and the Children's Miracle Network (I think that's the right name). She had asked me what both were for and I explained that they helped little kids and families who need to go to the hospital or don't have enough to celebrate Christmas. She immediately asked me for money so she could help them. It was incredibly heartwarming, since giving, especially at such an iconic time of year, is what I think we all should do.

And since my last paragraph was about giving I thought I'd segue into something very dear to me (this is not sponsored, I don't know if either of these organizations do that, but just so you know): Compassion , an organization devoted to lifting children out of poverty (among other things). It's certainly not the only organization out there that does this but I like it because it is a Christian organization that works through local churches to reach the communities. I also appreciate World Vision, another organization that is unashamedly Christian but that works with any organization in a community in order to aid them (both of these descriptions are what I've gleaned from reading their sites and hopefully they're accurate). I think both approaches are valid and needed; churches should be strengthened, Christians should be helping anyone who needs help, regardless of race/religion/etc.

This is dear to me because we are involved with Compassion. After my kids were born I found that I could no longer even contemplate harm being done to little children. I won't watch movies or read books that place little children in harm's way (although I did read The Hunger Games Trilogy). This feeling developed into a desire to help kids who didn't have enough to eat/were orphaned/etc. Compassion has enabled us to do that, and it is just so incredible to know that we are actually having an impact, we are actually doing something to help alleviate the grievous conditions some of these children are in. It helps me in my history classes when I read about the horrific things that people have done to each other, to the littlest among us. I remember that we are helping, and that we are not the only ones, that others are also doing everything they can to help. It's the greatest present, in my opinion, that you can ever give yourself.

So there you go. I hope that didn't sound like an infomercial (I have a tendency to do that); I attempted to actually write what I felt about the whole thing. May everyone have a lovely Christmas, may your children have presents waiting for them under the tree and may everyone have joy.

Something I never thought I'd hear ...

2011-12-11T22:13:00.003-06:00

So my mom called me tonight (10:15 p.m. their time), which was kind of weird because my parents don't generally call people after 9 p.m. I picked up, of course. And this is what transpired:

Mom: "So, you're probably not going to believe this. I have a question for you."

Me: "Ok?"

Mom: "How do I inoculate the owl thingies?"

Me: <-busts up with laughter (my mom just doesn't play video games)

Turns out she rolled a Drenai and got herself to level three. She's enjoying the graphics and got a laugh out of one of the guards telling her "Aren't you cute?" when she wandered out of the starting area.

Just when I think I know my parents, they bust out a new one. My mom, playing WoW. Never been prouder:)

Something I never thought I'd hear ...

2011-12-11T22:13:00.002-06:00

So my mom called me tonight (10:15 p.m. their time), which was kind of weird because my parents don't generally call people after 9 p.m. I picked up, of course. And this is what transpired:

Mom: "So, you're probably not going to believe this. I have a question for you."

Me: "Ok?"

Mom: "How do I inoculate the owl thingies?"

Me: <-busts up with laughter (my mom just doesn't play video games)

Just when I think I know my parents, they bust out a new one. My mom, playing WoW. Never been prouder:)

It's over. It's finally over.

2011-12-09T12:14:00.003-06:00

I thought this was an apt picture. I haven't burned any of my school paraphernalia but I have thrown away an awful lot. It's been a joy tossing things (that I won't need in the future, obviously) into the trash can. Done! Done with another semester!

What shall I do with myself now that I have all this free time? The creative urge has struck, I have ideas, I feel the weight that has been lifted off me. There is joy in life. Man, is this what normal people with normal jobs feel like? Hahahahahahahahaha oh shoot I'm verging into a mini-hysteria ...

So, yes, the Orc family (should probably come up with a new name for ourselves) is finally on Christmas/Winter Break. The tension that has filled the house these last few months has dissipated, stress levels are eased, and the Christmas spirit now has room to flourish.

ROTC Ball and Snow+Finals Week

2011-12-05T15:39:00.005-06:00

I am recovering from two finals earlier today. My hand cramped, my neck hurts and my back feels thrown out of alignment. I think my face had a grimace of concentration on it most of the day. I'm sure it was very attractive. But now that's over and I only have online stuff to work on. Damm still has finals left though.

Or does he? The last time it snowed in Las Cruces the city shut down for several days. Look what it's doing right now:

So I guess we'll see about the school remaining open. I know those of you in the North are laughing but we here in Las Cruces are woefully unprepared for cold weather. Heck, I saw girls walking around in non-winterish looking skirts today. We were so not expecting this.

This is what we have also been up to:

This is our "serious" face. We took some smiling photos too but I am ALWAYS smiling in pictures. I needed some non-smiley ones. I went for the black dress this year; I have trouble finding dresses in brighter hues that work for me. I really like this one, although this picture hardly does justice.

Yo, so I am done, the kiddos are already experiencing "cabin fever".

Post-Thanksgiving Thoughts

2011-11-28T09:34:00.003-06:00

I hope your Thanksgiving went well. Mine did, although it was a bit weird-it was at my house this year. I didn't host it, we all pitched in, but it was at my house. And therefore it couldn't be Thanksgiving, because Thanksgivings are spent at grandma's house with all the relatives. My grandma, to be specific. For seventeen years holidays-most of them-were spent at my grandma's house, so now the holidays feel weird 'cause I'm not at her house. Oh well.

I also hope your Black Friday went well. I was facing the hordes at 8 a.m., but really everyone was very nice. We at the bookstore didn't get any of the crazy, pepper-spraying people (if you haven't heard of that read this). It was busy though, so when I finally got home around 4:30 p.m. I collapsed on the couch. I did take advantage of the games being 50% at my store, so I guess I contributed to the madness.

And now it's Cyber Monday and we college kids have to go back to school. Every part of my being is screaming "NO! WANT TO STAY HOME WITH FIREPLACE AND TREE!" but of course I can't do that. There are papers to write and tests to study for. December 10 is when we are officially free. /sob.

So have fun on this Cyber Monday.

My Arrgh Moment is Justified.

2011-11-16T09:25:00.004-06:00

So I read the Hunger Games Trilogy and felt absolutely awful Monday morning. Book hangover. Definitely don't drive while under the influence-trying to navigate the car while reading what happened next just doesn't work. Anyway, I was on our school's online thingymajig (it's called Blackboard but I have no idea what you call it in computer parlance-platform?) and noticed that our final essay assignment had been posted for my mythology class. Turns out I can write about any hero/heroine from any novel/movie. Score, right? I'm totally writing about Katniss Everdeen. My reading marathon over the weekend turned out to be just the right thing.

In other news, I have a group presentation today. Judging by the laughter, goofing off and cookies we made it's going to be a good one. Ask me anything you want to know about jazz and I might be able to answer you. We had some confusion over what, precisely, we were going to cover. I thought jazz and I thought music! and researched accordingly. The person who was to cover the dances thought swing! and researched accordingly. I think it all works though, 'cause you can't really talk about the dances without the music and vice verse.

In yet other school news, this is it: the last three days before Thanksgiving Break. It isn't a true break, I have homework that must be done, but there will be at least a couple days that I don't do anything at all. Isn't that exciting? I know I'm looking forward to it. Plus the turkey, ROLLS, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans and the DESSERTS comprise Thanksgiving dinner. Did you catch on to what my favorite parts were?

So, have a good day. Think about me/us as we do our group presentation, as most of us are pretty frazzled. That might work to our advantage, though, because our dance class is CRAZY. Fun crazy, but crazy.

Arrgh.

2011-11-14T09:02:00.002-06:00

I feel grouchy. Kind of hungover, but not a alcoholic hungover. It's a book hangover.

The Hunger Games, people, the Hunger Games. By Suzanne Collins.

Ok, I'm going to go medicate my head with coffee now.

Oatmeal, Shirts and Economics.

2011-11-04T07:56:00.002-05:00

First, the Oatmeal. I was out shopping the other day in the middle of the afternoon. I had actually made a shopping list and was going to stick to my budget so I was feeling pretty good about life. We (meaning myself, Orclette and Miniorc) got to the cereal aisle and I thought about buying some. Cereal is rather expensive, however, when you compare it to Oatmeal, so I decided that I was going to be virtuous and buy the cheaper option. It was a great idea until the next morning when my morning brain threw a fit against my afternoon brain because my morning brain DOES NOT COOK. Not even the minuscule amount of cooking that it takes to make Oatmeal. So the moral is: do not do your breakfast shopping with your afternoon brain.

Secondly, the Shirts. I was switching out the kiddos summer clothes for their winter ones (it's just now getting cold here) and I discovered that the Orclette had practically nothing warm to wear. So I packed the kids up and headed out to Savers, one of our local thrift stores. We found some really cute things, including a Shirt that had a design I would actually wear. This raises a conundrum for me: am I dressing my daughter in clothes too old for her? She's no longer a toddler so (to me at least) the frills and bows don't look right. But do I really want her to be a mini-me at age four? (The Shirt was in all other respects appropriate. I don't dress skankily and neither will my daughter as long as she lives in my house:)

Thirdly and finally, Economics. I took Macro Economics a long time ago and got a "D", the only time I've ever received a grade that low. I think it's safe to say I don't understand the subject matter all that well. So one of my teachers assigned a reading that was written by a sociologist who used economic terms indiscriminately throughout the reading. I really have no idea what he said, but I had to write a paper on it, so I let my brain take a back seat, tried to remember that Macro Economics class, and let the words flow. The paper actually sounds intelligent but I have no idea what I said. I'm turning it in today. Hopefully it'll sound intelligent enough to garner me an "A".

"Am I more stressed out this year than last year?"

2011-10-31T09:07:00.003-05:00

I think we are. Everybody we know is having a rough or stressful or life-changing semester. Ours is simply stressful; some grades haven't been what we wanted them to be and there are always teachers/fellow students to grapple with. And it's been this way every semester. I have end-of-the-semester stress symptoms every May and December.

It seems to be worse this year, however. Last Fall I was still baking, actively planning Christmas and making sure my friends felt the love of the season. This Fall I collapse on the couch to start watching my stressed-out go-to show: The Gilmore Girls. No baking has been done, Christmas planning will just have to wait, and does anyone actually want a Thanksgiving dinner or can we just do pizza?

I've analyzed the situation, of course, and I have come up with two reasons for our extra-tiredness:

#1: Our class levels are higher. There is a huge difference between a 100-level course (that's a beginner class) and a 400-level class (that's a class that grads can also take). Three of mine are 300-level classes and one is a 400-level. Damm's are constantly getting more complicated and building on what he learned the previous semester.

#2: We've depleted our backup stores of emotional and physical energy. We started this whole college thing back in the Spring of 2009. We still have (after this semester) three more grueling semesters to go. This is the Hump Semester, if you will.

I think the Spring semester will be better. I'm filling in some educational gaps and I'm taking a 100-level course and a 200-level course (and also a 300-level and 400-level). My stress will most likely be lower. Damm's won't, but at least he'll feel like we're finally going downhill (to the summer) rather than uphill (building towards another semester).

In the meantime I have a PowerPoint project to finish, a research paper to write, a group presentation to prepare and several papers and tests that I know are coming up. Not sure what Damm is doing. Feel free to offer up a prayer or two for us this week:)

Middle-Aged Biker

2011-10-27T22:30:00.003-05:00

Man, how did the week go by so fast? Just a moment ago I was having a case of Mondayitis that was NOT being solved by coffee (I think I got up to eight cups that day). Now it's (almost) Friday and a weekend full of fun Halloween festivities are about to begin, starting with a 6 a.m. costume run tomorrow morning. I'm going as a middle-aged female biker who has had a middle-aged crisis and bought herself a fancy bike and a few tattoos. Here's my pretend bike:

I even have a fake tattoo sleeve. It looks kind of odd juxtaposed with my real tattoos, but it's fun. Damm is going as Gru (from Despicable Me), the Orclette is a bundled-up fairy and the Miniorc as a bundled-up knight. It finally got cold on us, hence my mentioning the bundled-upness. It's going to be a fun run (cue resigned voice). I remember my parents and grandparents doing early morning runs and activities on holidays/celebrations. Now it's our turn to create memories (muahaha!).

Then we have a Harvest Party on Monday night. It's hosted by our church and provides the games and candy the kiddos like without actually doing Halloween things like "trick or treating" (we don't actually do Halloween since we're not big fans of this particular celebration although dressing up and getting candy is fun). Sugar overload, anyone?

Orange, Orclette and Overworked

2011-10-21T08:57:00.003-05:00

I'm thinking orange. Orange pumpkins, orange candles, orange foliage. Mixed in with a few other fall colors, of course. Rather than jump immediately into Christmas-planning mode (like I usually do) I've been mustering up enthusiasm for Thanksgiving, and even in some measure Halloween. I do not celebrate Halloween because I am not enthused about the origins of that particular celebration but we do participate in festivities if they are kid-friendly. For instance, this year Damm and the Orclette will be participating in the ROTC Halloween Run dressed as (we're thinking) Dorothy and the Tin Man/Straw Man. It'll be awesome.

Speaking of the Orclette, I had a moment yesterday that I was strongly tempted to say "Why can't you just be more like Miniorc!" I didn't say it, in case you were curious. What had happened was that she and I were in the bathroom getting ready for bed and Miniorc and Damm were already asleep (bathroom connects to bedroom). She was singing loudly, playing with the toothbrushes and completely ignoring my whispered "Hush!" es. Occasionally Miniorc is the one who manages to stay awake and when he's with me he quietly sits on the floor and reads books. He'll occasionally point out a "fly" (bug of any sort) to me in one of his books. The difference is extreme, but I still don't think it's wise to verbally compare one child with another. Or maybe it is? Anyway, in that situation I chose not to.

Overworked! Yesterday I listened to an hour-long lecture on the psychology inherent in the story of Cupid and Psyche. I am a history major, not a psychology major, so it was, to be blunt, rather boring. Then I wrote a four-page paper and participated in a Discussion Board for an online class (usual format is: create a post to teacher's specifications and reply to two other students' creations). All in three hours. I usually don't have that much time at once so I was fairly exhausted by the end of that session. I guess you couldn't really called me "overworked" as I enjoyed getting that much done but it fit in the title.

There you go. Have a great weekend!

Air Show Fun

2011-10-10T23:42:00.003-05:00

This past weekend we went to an air show at Holloman Air Force Base. The Miniorc in particular ADORES planes and the Orclette is also fascinated by them. It was perfect weather: crisp and cold and clear (although we didn't dress the kiddos warm enough, we just aren't used to the cold weather yet. Some of the adults had to go without their jackets:)

Some of us weren't quite awake.

Others were armed with their planes and were ready to go.

Experiencing one of the static displays.

I had fun too, although the face-painting lady looked at me oddly when I asked to have my cheek painted. Paid my two dollars and I see no reason why adults can't do silly things like paint their faces.

I didn't take any pictures of the kiddos during the aerial displays. We were having too much fun pointing out the planes. Miniorc, after watching the first display, turned his face to me, pointed at the airplane, and very firmly said "mine!". It was awesomely funny.

Afterwards, as we were coming home, it occurred to me that this is what it felt like to be a kid. Dad (and sometimes mom, although not my mom) would work hard during the week and then the weekends were time for fun. That feeling ended as soon as I looked at my homework load, but hey, it was fun while it lasted.

What I've Been Thinking About Lately

2011-10-06T23:41:00.002-05:00

(Is me)

For my mythology class: project on various archetypes in different cultures. For example: Creation/Origin myths, the Flood archetype, the Great Goddess etc. I'm researching Judaism, which has been fairly smooth sailing so far. The only issue I've had is reducing my focus to just the Torah. I've always read those first five books (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy) as part of a greater whole and it's been interesting to shift my viewpoint to the Torah/Tanakh.

For my Latin American class I'm reviewing for the midterm. One essay, which I'll be writing at home, and short definitions to be written in class. Thirty options for the short definitions given on the review sheet, professor will give eighteen to choose from, I choose ten to write about. Ask me anything about the various independence movements and political infighting. Hurry though, data dump will commence after the midterm on Monday.

For my terrorism class: nothing, really. The professor that teaches this class is incredibly laid back and is easy-going with his red marker (referring to the red remarks professors make on papers. I realize not everyone is in school:)

And finally, my dance class. We practiced the Samba and Lindy-hop this past week. The kiddos and I watched YouTube videos on couples dancing the Samba; when it was over and I was demonstrating the basic step the Orclette, very seriously, said "Mama some of us dance different things and that's ok". I think she was concerned I was going to make her try and dance the samba to the exclusion of ballet:) She might also have been alarmed by some of the costumes; most of the dancers we saw were, compared to how we dress, rather scantily clad.

So. Thunk any good thoughts lately?

I got called a "Blogger Mom"

2011-10-03T15:44:00.005-05:00

Last week the Orclette and I were talking about how our ancestors had to use candle for light (during our school session) and I had the brilliant idea of researching how candles are made. We hopped onto YouTube (my kids love watching videos) and watched a couple of demonstrations. It looked easy so we made a trip to Hobby Lobby to pick up candle-making supplies. Here are the results of our adventure:

The Orclette helping me. One candle vase was a girl and the other was a boy and they lived happily ever after.

The Miniorc was "opening" everything with his screwdriver.

Prepping the gel candles. I really like having the marbles at the bottom of the glass.

We went with the orange dye.

And ta-da! Two new candles to go on my mantle (the ones on the sides).

Anyway, I was describing out adventures to a classmate (or was it a co-worker? my days are all jumbled) and she exclaimed "You're like one of those blogger moms!" So I figured I'd better blog about this adventure. It was fairly easy and I'm contemplating making more for Christmas gift baskets (yes, I am already planning Christmas gifts. I am that type of person).

It's interesting when ...

2011-09-23T10:01:00.001-05:00

You know it's going to be an interesting morning when, after you drink an energy drink, you have moved from the How did I end up in the kitchen stage? to Man, I think I need some coffee stage.

Have a great morning!

This is what I spent the morning doing.

2011-09-20T12:39:00.002-05:00

Read the following. Was I neutral enough? Nice enough? Too nice? I didn't bother complaining at the store; usually the peons can do nothing and it wasn't their fault in the first place (I jokingly refer to myself as a peon as well so no offence is meant by that word).

To Whom It May Concern,

I recently left one of my purchased bags at Store #5155 (Store Manager Anthony Martinez). Within the hour I returned for my items only to find out that they had already been put back onto the shelf. From my conversation with the employee at the Customer Service desk it seemed that this was a store policy and not an individual blunder. While it was my negligence that caused the situation in the first place it also was, in my opinion, an egregious lack of customer service. It would be a courtesy to keep purchased, non-perishable items at Customer Service for at least a few hours before returning them to the shelf (and necessitating the customer to shop for those items once again in order not to waste their money).

I would like to emphasize that my distress was caused by what seemed to be a store policy and not any individual employee. I have always had friendly and courteous treatment by the employees of this Walmart.

Thank you for your time,

Rebecca Roelant

That complaint has been submitted, I have my items, all is well. I managed to comport myself with dignity throughout the entire episode (at least I thought I was dignified). One whole hour wasted, though, on a day when I had everything planned to a "t". There goes my schedule:)

Lovely Title

2011-09-17T20:59:00.004-05:00

"Mistress Para Ventura, Our Lady of Chrome"

Love the name. Schlock Mercenary is still the comic that draws me in the most and enraptures my attention. I avoid the archives because I can easily lose days there. Props to Howard for an awesome comic that lives on the strength of its story telling despite early struggles with art(I like his art now).

2011-09-14T23:15:00.003-05:00

The BBB Poem

"We're the battling bastards of Bataan;

No mama, no papa, no Uncle Sam.

No aunts, no uncles, no cousins, no nieces,

No pills, no planes, no artillery pieces.

And nobody gives a damn.

Nobody gives a damn."

~Frank Hewlett 1942

Because a buddy didn't know about Bataan I would like to take this moment to remind you to remember Bataan.

Always.

This might not translate well.

2011-09-13T14:51:00.002-05:00

Frequently things that happen in life just do not translate well into story form. Something occurred last night at work, however, that was just too funny to not tell. So, here goes:

Two coworkers of mine were chatting, discussing a variety of topics including whether or not Barnes & Noble would build us a bigger building for the store we work in (a very large campus B&N had just been built, I assume this fueled the speculation). I came along and our discussion ranged from the mundane to whether or not that space station was ever going to be built. At this point one of my coworkers asked "So do you think we'll ever move someplace bigger?" while indicating with her hands what appeared, to me at least, to be a globe. Completely confused (because I had not heard that part of the conversation) I asked "You mean a bigger planet?" Amid the gales of laughter that followed this question I managed to get out "'Cause I don't think we'd actually get to see it, the terraforming would take too long!"

I obviously read too much science fiction.

Hope that translated and brought a grin to your face.

Life After Percocet.

2011-09-09T08:27:00.002-05:00

I did not throw the percocet pills away. The pain did not go away, and seemed to be getting worse. Then I looked and saw what appeared to be white bone. In a panic that I had dry socket (a very painful condition) Damm called the surgeon's office. The surgeon himself called back within five minutes (I still need to write him a thank you letter) and concluded that I did NOT have dry socket but that I needed to be taking the percocet so I had some periods of time without pain. I thought about it, it made sense, so I started amping up ALL my painkillers. Now I'm off of them and the pain is gone. I guess sometimes doctor's know what they're talking about. Although the first two days off percocet were AWFUL. I don't even want to imagine what people who have been on it for longer than two weeks have to go through.

In addition I am glad to report that we are fully moved in. Not fully unpacked, just fully moved over from our old house. We turned in the keys yesterday and apologized for not getting to the painting of the walls. She (the office lady) looked at me funny when I said that. Maybe she thought I was trying to get out of paying for it? Which is ridiculous, we (Damm and I) both knew it would come out of our deposit. But this time we really were trying to do it right, the way we had been taught by our parents: do everything as unto the Lord. And that's not a guilt trip or an impossible standard; we truly wanted to be the best tenants possible. ANYWAY. That's a rabbit trail. Although I had spent a lot of time thinking about some previous moves where we had not cleaned, not taken everything out of the apartment. We knew our deposit would be docked because of it so legally we were fine, but again that's not how we were taught to do things. So that's why I went down that particular rabbit trail. To talk it out of my system.

Damm has taken pictures of the new place. Once he sends them to me I'll post them here. I really like it and I REALLY like how my stuff has been transformed. In the old house our furniture looked like college furniture; here it looks newer and more sophisticated. I'm guessing that's because of the different kind of paint and also the lighting. Plus everything here looks new. I feel like I can really entertain now; I'm not worried about the old and drab contents of my house. I shouldn't have been worried about that in the first place, my friends were coming over because they valued my company, not my possessions, but it still distressed me. Although I think I had finally come to a place where I was content with our old house, our stuff, and wasn't driven to constantly improve things. It's a good place to be; even our new house in all its glory cannot compete with many neighborhoods in this city. And I don't want to always be disliking where I am and wishing I was someplace better. I think that kind of striving has its place but there is also something to be said with being content. Anyway. I am off on another rabbit trail.

So school is going ok. Both of us feel like we're winging it right now because we've been moving, setting up our new house, etc. The Orclette LOVES preschool. I am homeschooling her with the aid of my mother-in-law, who does the more hands-on projects because workbooks drive her nuts. I happen to like workbooks so it's worked out well. The Miniorc learned about the letter "y" and was able to point it out to his daddy and point out the yo-yo that he scribbled on. Speaking of the Miniorc, my household is about to come alive with yells for "mama! I'm awake now!" so I better go. Hope my ruminating wasn't too boring, pictures soon.

Life on Percocet.

2011-08-30T20:26:00.002-05:00

So earlier this summer I experienced the excruciating pain of a tooth infection. Due to the long process of being referred, waiting for insurance to kick in, waiting for an appointment to see the surgeon and then waiting another month for an available surgery I just now had my wisdom teeth removed. Want to hear about it? It's fairly non-entertaining.

I had to fast for eight hours. Not a big deal, surgery was at 9 a.m. The lack of coffee was a bit hard, but I (obviously) survived. I was escorted back to the surgery room, put on laughing gas, told the nurse about my brother who burst into hysterical laughter when he was put on laughing gas, and then tried very hard not to laugh at the story. I succeeded. Then the doctor came in, put the needle in my arm, and I was out. Apparently the nurse had to manhandle me to get me out/in of the wheelchair. I somewhat remember the drive home; it was hot. Damm told me later that I asked him several times to turn on the air conditioner. I remember stumbling through the house into my bed. The rest of the day was a blur.

The next day I forced myself to be active. I had school, I had homework, I had kids. It was a bad, bad day. Apparently percocet (doctor prescribed of course) makes me extremely irritable. Saturday wasn't quite as bad but I was still irritable and people touching me (i.e., my kids) was THE MOST ANNOYING THING EVER. A break came Sunday morning when I took my dose of percocet and allowed myself to relax. Fell asleep cuddled next to Damm and my kids. Most relaxing, blissful sleep ever. Then it was Monday and I decided to wean myself off the percocet because I had to work that evening. Another bad day. Felt like I was having withdrawal symptoms PLUS I was still in pain.

Now it's today. I made it through most of the day without any serious painkillers but I decided to take another dose of the stronger stuff so I could be pain-free for a while. I'm contemplating chucking the stuff once I feel the pain is mostly subsided; those symptoms I experienced on Monday are not something I'm wanting to go through again.

Want to hear the icing on the cake? We're moving. Still in the same town, but to a newer, slightly bigger house. With refrigerated air. REFRIGERATED AIR. No more swamp cooler. You have no idea how excited I am about that. Well, maybe you can guess. It's pretty much the only reason I/we were willing to move in the middle of the semester.

So yeah. Life on percocet. Oral surgery, no rest, pain, homework, school, work, kids, Damm, moving. It's all good though. I'm getting refrigerated air.

Our much much less hectic fall schedule.

2011-08-23T21:49:00.002-05:00

What isn't posted is the number of questions per metric ton that I have answer via text per minute. Otherwise a very nice and lovely schedule.

p.s. holy crap I actually made a post. Pretty sure at this point though anyone reading is only reading for Wulfa's sake.

What we've been up to.

2011-08-22T12:21:00.003-05:00

That pretty much sums it up. Last Friday one of my professors asked for a paragraph on Monday. It didn't occur to me that this was an actual assignment (because usually they wait until Monday; Thursday and Friday classes are usually hand out the syllabus) so it wasn't up to my normal standards. Slipping already:) I also forgot to drop off the Orclette's school assignments with the mother-in-law. Mondays.

Damm has been busy with his new ROTC responsibilities. If he isn't busy typing out texts/emails he's anxiously checking the phone to make sure he hasn't missed any communications. We knew it was going to be like that, but because I feel the need to check my phone whenever he checks his phone it has been brought home to me just how few people actively interact with me via text/email.

And there ya go. Have to leave now to pick up Damm, drop me off to class, pick me up after that class, dash to the doctor's office (for Damm's knee), then dash back home so I can get ready for work at 4.

And we're back.

2011-08-18T07:16:00.002-05:00

The kids and I returned to this barren desert on Sunday. Damm returned Tuesday. School starts today. I return to work tomorrow. No rest. Oh well. We're army tough:)

I've always thought Damm and I integrate back together fairly well. We haven't experienced a real deployment yet but I'm confident we'll weather it just as well. The only issue I have after this separation is Damm leaving the toilet seat up. Once you've accidentally sat on the toilet rim because your spouse left the seat up you never, ever want to repeat the experience.

The kids were ecstatic to see Damm. The Orclette has adjusted to him being home with no visible problems. The Miniorc has been acting like he isn't sure Damm is around to stay, or maybe he's thinking "Why did you leave me? I don't like you anymore!" The Miniorc's vocabulary has been expanding but it's not up to explaining complex emotions. So we're being patient and understanding with him, trying to stick to a routine, etc. It'll be good.

And that's really it. For now, anyway. I shall be back (I've got one-liners from movies going through my head: Sam from LOTR in my title and now Arnold from Terminator. Or was it MacArthur in WWII? Bah.)

Summer Adventures

2011-08-04T11:05:00.008-05:00

While Damm is off on an army adventure we have been having adventures of our own.

Here's meself and the kiddos at the Butterfly Museum in Houston:

A closer look at the Orclette's "Fancy Nancy" type hair (Fancy Nancy is a children's book character. She is always dressed fancy, hence the name):

Fun at the park. Forget the slides, lets play with rocks and dinosaurs!

At the NASA Space Museum. My dad works at NASA (not one of those getting laid off) and we figured the kids should see it, since the whole astronaut era is over (at the moment at least).

At the Space Museum (that's not the official name, just what I call it in my head) they had various kid activities. They enjoyed the ball park the most.

Miniorc finally figured out how to dunk the basketball. He had been just pushing it.

The Orclette can jump in all by herself. No fear there.

The YMCA we've been taking lessons at has a Splash Park. Both the Orclette and Miniorc enjoyed running through it.

So there you have it: our Summer Adventures. Along the way my kids have discovered Rugrats and Angry Beavers, both cartoon shows that my brothers enjoyed (and still enjoy). My brother insisted they must see Nacho Libre, and Miniorc in particular enjoyed the fight scenes. I had hoped to see Cowboys vs. Aliens today but some of my mom's lifeguards (she's a pool manager at the YMCA) didn't show and so she's guarding and not babysitting. Oh well. Another day.

Next up (maybe): a post of nutritious things I have eaten/learned while I've been here. My mom is a health nut. She's also a bit of a conspiracy theorist. If you've read The Host by Stephenie Meyers she's the type that would've survived because she prefers to be off the grid and has a whole stash of emergency food and supplies ready to go. Someday I hope to have my own stash.

The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain.

2011-07-28T14:51:00.002-05:00

The rain in Texas is incredibly different than in New Mexico. In NM it'll rain for maybe 15, 20 minutes and then it's over. Everything is muggy, if you have a swamp cooler it feels like it's continually raining in your house, and then the sunshine starts. I don't like sunshine after the rain. I'm actually not a huge fan of sunshine; my house has sunlight-blocking curtains over all the windows and I keep lights off if I can manage without them. It's like a nice cozy bear den.

In Texas, which is where we are at the moment (visiting my parents) it rains for a good long while. Frequently it even stays dark and overcast after it stops raining. And because Texans would never hear of having swamp coolers (because in this humidity it wouldn't work at all, whereas in NM it just doesn't work during the summer months. Works fine in spring and fall. Yeah, it's totally wrong) the house stays nice and cool, and it even gets a wee bit nippy.

I'm also soaking up all the green. To me this part of Houston looks like a cross between a swamp and a forest. I love it either way. Green, green everywhere. And rain. Wow, have I missed the rain.

So I'm thinking going back to NM is going to be incredibly hard. It is every time, but I have been particularly missing the green and the rain this year. Thank goodness I still have a couple weeks left to enjoy the scenery:)

Coming up next post (if I have time to write it): My kids love the water. I have some cool photos of them playing and taking swim lessons (the Miniorc's new favorite word is "splash"). I made it into some of the shots as well, although I think I'll leave those out. No makeup+bedraggled hair=one interesting orc female.

My daughter: mini-me in training.

2011-07-22T17:15:00.003-05:00

Last night I was up past midnight watching The Return of the King. I didn't finish, but I figured my kids probably wouldn't sleep in if I actually needed them to sleep in, so I called it quits right after the battle for Minis Tirith. I was woken up this morning by my daughter, the Orclette, telling me quite seriously that "It's morning time momma. The sun is up! We need to be up! It's morning time!" She does this every morning, so it wasn't a shocker, but I haven't been sleeping well lately. I believe I growled at her and then groggily made my way to the coffeepot.

She didn't stop there, however. She thought it'd be a great idea for me to get her milk and could she please sit in the chair that I painted with flowers and turn on a movie and oh could the drink be milk and I am cold momma so I need some cold water to make my tummy feel better and where is my milk?

As you can imagine, I did not find this amusing. I think I had managed to get the coffee pot filled with water by the time she finished that particular soliloquy. Then she started telling me how we should go about getting Uncle Boddert from the airport (he arrived back from India today and we were very excited about this) and what we needed to bring and how we needed to clean out the car. The coffee was brewing at this point so I was in a kinder frame of mind which allowed me to recognize her chatter as almost an exact copy of how I usually explain our plans for the day. I never talked babytalk to her when she was a baby; I talked to her as though she were an adult and found out that explaining how we were going to do things (even though she didn't really care because she was an infant) helped me to better organize everything. So I've continued doing it.

I guess you could say I've brought the officiousness and bossiness on myself. On the other hand, she appears to be developing a well-organized mind, so it'll be worth the years of having my mini-me help me plan things.

Children+Food=Grossness

2011-07-19T15:53:00.002-05:00

As anyone should know, little children + food usually=grossness. Sticky messes, bread that had milk/juice/whatever spilled on it, food that has picked up additional flavor from being on the floor, etc. I didn't have any problems with encountering child-enhanced food until this past week. You see, I'm mental, as Ron (from HP) would say. The calorie count would get messed up if I shared with my kids or if I ate something they shared with me. So we just stayed far away from each others food.

I had a recurrence of pericoronitis, however, and was anxious to get started on the antibiotics. I was in my car, racing to get to work on time, and couldn't find any type of liquid. Finally I spotted one of the kiddos' drinks, which I thought had contained water and/or gatorade. So I washed my antibiotics down with it. Then it struck me that the "water" tasted a mite funny, and then I noticed there were red dots in the cup. I still don't know what the red dots were, and I didn't get sick, but that was a close call.

Then I had another encounter with grossness. We were all watching the World Cup game, and I was a wee bit hungry. So I asked the Orclette to fetch me a tortilla. She first had to get one for herself, and then Brenden, which he refused. So I said I'd take it, and he trotted it on over to me. I ate most of it before it occurred to me that it was a bit soggy. I also found a dog hair on it. My only excuse is that I was completely absorbed in the game.

I wish I had a third example to relate, but I don't. It would have made for nice symmetry (I like the number three). I'm back to being rigid on the "don't touch my food and I won't touch yours" policy in my house. It's an attitude that has rubbed off on the kids; the Orclette gets extremely loud if you take a fry (or anything else, that was just a recent example that came to mind) and the Miniorc gets extremely anxious. I'm all about the sharing when it comes to toys, choosing movies and stuff like that but I'm completely fine with my kids NOT sharing food. We're just working on expressing our feelings in a quieter voice.

I shall leave you with an example of my kids sharing.

Piggyback rides on daddy. Very big hit. Giddyup horsey! :)

Women's World Cup. And me.

2011-07-13T15:45:00.003-05:00

In case you didn't know, the Women's World Cup is currently going on. There was a teeth-clenching, tension-building quarterfinal match-up between Brazil and the USA which we managed to win in PK's (penalty kicks, taken when the game ends in a tie and both 15-minute overtime periods have been played and the teams are still tied). Japan, a team who hasn't really been considered a team likely to win the tournament, beat powerhouse Germany in their quarterfinal 1-0 in one of the most splendid displays of defensive and technical skill I've seen. Then Japan beat Sweden 3-1 in the semifinals, proving to everyone that a collective playing style can win games (I've said that all along but the commentators didn't agree with me until Japan scored their third goal against Sweden). The USA beat France 3-1 in a slightly less emotional game.

So now it's the USA vs. Japan in the final game on Sunday. I'll be cheering for the USA, although Japan is now my other team to cheer for when they're not playing the USA. They won my loyalty through their impressive defensive display. I was a defender back in the day. I'm always a soft touch for beautiful defenses. So it looks to be an exciting day on Sunday. And an exciting day on Thursday. Damm and I are going to the Harry Potter Double Feature event going on (first half of movie at 9:00 p.m., new one at 12:05 a.m.). I'm not used to all this excitement.

But watching the Women's World Cup has made me think about my soccer-playing days. The men's World Cup did too, but not as much. I never could have played in their tournament, obviously, but it was within the realm of possibility (barely. In fact almost not barely. I'm no Wambauch or Solo) to have played in this one.

My thoughts are mainly regret that I didn't try out for any college teams. I'm pretty sure I was good enough; as I got older my confidence (which was my downfall) was improving and I was becoming a pretty good defensive playmaker. But then again, at the time I chose not to continue my soccer career because 1) neither my parents nor I had any idea of how to go about it because we had just moved to Houston when I graduated and 2) I was concerned about my level of dedication to the game. I was obsessed. When I transitioned from rec play to "select" (it's called different things depending on which state you play in, but basically it's when the sport gets expensive because you're constantly traveling to matches and tournaments) I saw that I needed to lose weight. I developed an eating disorder on the way and also became OCD about exercising. Improved my game astronomically. And I would've been willing to pretty much do anything to become better. And when I say that know I was devoting one hour per day to working on mastery of the ball, at least one more hour exercising, and then practice each night (either mine or my brothers) and games on weekends.

So most likely my younger self was preserving my older self, but my older self has been through some confidence-wrecking injuries and looks back on younger self as rather silly for not at least trying out for a college team. Older self regrets not being in the shape it could be in had I not stopped playing. Older self comforts itself that one day it will have time to play again in the adult rec teams.

And now I'll stop referring to myself in the third person. I love watching soccer but it will always be something that makes me somewhat sad. Maybe my kids will want to be soccer superstars in their own right and I can live through them (just kidding. I've seen parents who do that and I won't be one of them. I certainly hope they play soccer but I won't force them).

In the meantime, go USA!

I was sooooo right.

2011-07-05T16:32:00.002-05:00

Last fall I had a powerful hankering for pumpkin bread. I think it was around September/October. Went to Walmart and lo and behold: no pumpkin. Desperate for pumpkiny goodness I finally ended up buying organic pumpkin puree from the local health food store. It had a very interesting taste, but it was pumpkin.

So I stockpiled pumpkin puree throughout last fall when Walmart finally started carrying it. I'd buy 4-5 cans a week, use 2 of them (reduced calorie/fat and protein enhanced pumpkin bread was a staple because everyone liked it) and save the others. Didn't actually end up with as many as I had wanted (there were weeks I forgot to buy pumpkin so I had to use what I had) but enough so that, when the pumpkin craving hit, I was able to make pumpkin bread. I have now used the last of my hoarded pumpkin, and man is that bread good.

Here's the recipe, in case you wanted it:

3 C. Flour (I use a combination of white and whole wheat)

2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. baking powder (the base recipe doesn't call for baking powder, but it tastes weird when I don't add any)

1 1/2 tsp. salt

Lots of cinnamon

Less of nutmeg

Some clove, mace, allspice, and pumpkin pie spice

1/2 C. oil

1/2 C. applesauce

2/3 C. water

4 eggs

1 can of pumpkin. I usually use Libby's, the 15 oz. can

Mix, pop into a 350 oven for 60 minutes.

Made that way the whole mix has 2,990 calories. Each loaf (cause it makes two loaves) has 1,495 calories and if you cut it into 12 slices each slice is 125 calories. I have no idea what the fat/protein content is. One of these days I'll get around to calculating that so I can enter it into my Spark database.

Along with my pumpkin bread craving I've gotten nostalgic for Christmas. In case you didn't know it's my FAVORITIST HOLIDAY EVER so don't give me weird looks. So this morning whilst making pumpkin bread I had on Christmas tunes. It's a 100 degrees outside. I'm sure my neighbors thought I was weird when I took out the trash and left the music blaring through the front door.

I always thought Christmas in July would be a good tradition. I have now started it:)

Puppet strings.

2011-07-04T18:05:00.003-05:00

It all started at 13, suddenly jerked out of bed and started doing pushups and sit-ups with no control over his body. Other events happened along the same time as well. Walked past a sign up for swim club when his body stopped listening and he just walked over and signed up. Random sudden loss of control became common. He’d lose control every morning and night for what was apparently a regular workout session; same with swimming; same with weekend runs. He had no control over what he ate but only ate healthy. Side effects of this were nice, a healthy strong body with excellent form and reflexes. But loss of control was harsh. Testing showed he could slightly hold back intensity or contribute to it but mostly control wasn’t his. His hobby was apparently to be a puppet, a glove to someone else’s hand.

As a side effect, he laughed at others ideas that “such and such teacher was controlling” or that “so-and-so’s parents were so intrusive”. Teenage movies about kids who ran from crushing obligations made him cry inside and shout at the fools. What did they know about freedom…his life was not even his. At any point he might wake up and find himself just an observer to his body’s actions. Every free breath was a treasure he didn’t dare waste. People admired his dedication to his workout regime and complained that he never interrupted it for social events. Too bad it wasn’t his dedication. He began to practice memorization of poems and verses and doing math in his head. Whenever he lost control he started that mental recitation, working through geometric forms and structured verse. He never lost that. He never lost the fortress of his own soul, and that he clung to. His thoughts were his.

You the observer might wonder why he never told anyone else about this situation, why he never went for help. That was simple, no matter what he tried any attempts to explain/describe his situation led to loss of control. His voice was not his own anymore than his hands were. Once someone noticed that his personality was a bit different when he was working out or about to work out and the body-which-is-not-him replied smoothly that it was just because his endorphins were higher and his body was anticipating or reacting to the physical stress of the workout. The friend who noticed had laughed and said of course that must be it.

So now after almost ten years of this prison he had given up on any chance of it changing, he only hoped that one day he might understand why others weren’t trapped like him and what made him special. And to one day meet this person who controlled him so tightly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in line to pay for his gas, he idly wondered how much longer it would take. There were at least five people in line in front of him and no one seemed in any kind of hurry…especially the lone cashier. He let loose a long slow sigh, and settled into wait when the door opened and he lost control.

His hand reached back and grabbed the knife he’d been forced to buy about three years ago. It was gone and thrown before the door chime had gone off. He was too shocked at this sudden loss of control to follow what was going on for a second or two. By the time he caught up to the action not-him had him laying on the ground behind an shelf and of the three men he had seen coming in one was dead with a knife in the eye, another was half blind to a sharply thrown pair of glass bottles. The third had a gun out and was yelling into his phone.

Half-way through a reflexive recitation of “Now sleeps the crimson petal” he recognize the feeling of muscles building up and then not-him was moving in a high arcing forward flip over the shelves, his hand flashing with a pair of knives that had been purchased when he turned 17. The gun flashed twice as the phone was dropped. Both flashes were too early, before the gun had come on line. The knives slashed downwards through throat and arm respectively before continuing on their way in a twirling stab into the blinded man’s neck.

Not-him sheathed the knives and grabbed the first one he’d thrown at a dead sprint out the door. He stopped the Tennyson and swapped to Euclid. Not-him settled into a good pace and ran about three miles before stopping at a random suburban house to use their water hose to wash off his knives and the majority of the blood. As soon as the wash was done not-him ran another two miles. They walked the rest of the way home after that at a brisk pace.

Once home to his apartment he changed rapidly gathered a few more knives and grabbed a small pre-packed bag. Two hours later he was on a bus to another district. Only once he was on the bus did he regain control and begin shaking violently and weeping internally.

Wherein the King is crowned.

2011-06-24T22:18:00.004-05:00

Behold, one and all, the Bear King! He has been crowned by his lovely daughter Princess Orclette.

Damm: "The bear is trying to eat my face."

Princess Orclette: "These photo ops take the LONGEST time. Are we done yet?"

Princess Orclette: "Ok, seriously, we done yet?"

Back in the Game.

2011-06-23T15:10:00.003-05:00

Last year I signed up for the DailySpark at the behest of my mom, who uses the site extensively. It's completely free and has tons of stuff to do: blogs to read, tools for tracking your nutrition, fitness, water intake, etc, and much, much more. Way too much, in my opinion. I dabbled around with the site for a couple of weeks, but it was just too much given that we were still in the midst of a grueling semester.

I have more time during the summer, however, and in an effort to cultivate more things my mom and I do together I decided to take another look. So far I have tracked today's calories and the exercises I have done. At first it's annoying: you have to enter or find caloric values for your food, enter "groupings" (i.e. combinations of foods you regularly eat) and enter your workouts in detail. You can save everything, however, so at this point I point and click to enter my foods and also the strength training and cardio I've done. And I like it. I'm still trying to avoid getting sidetracked with everything else the site has to offer, but I think given a bit of investment it could be a fun and valuable aid in making our (i.e. my family) lives healthier. There's a book as well: The Spark, by Chris Downie. Barnes & Noble has-at this point for some stores it may be had, since the Bargain section changes constantly-copies at $5.98 (ISBN 9780594123002).

This is not an endorsed post. Is that what they call it? When a site pays/compensates someone for making them sound good? Anyway, I have not been paid/approached/what have you. I actually do like the site. If you do sign up, look for Wulfawolf. No, I have no imagination when it comes to my online monikers.

The wisdom of a 4-year old.

2011-06-21T21:44:00.006-05:00

Orclette, very sagely: "We should go there (Kazakstan). We went there when I was a baby."

Also: "Maybe my uncle could take me to Argentina when I get big big bigger."

And, for your viewing pleasure, since I have no words left to say.

She made sure they color coordinated that day.

She kept on trying to swipe my hat. She finally succeeded.

And the Miniorc being cute.

Parenting is hard. Duh, right?

2011-06-11T08:21:00.002-05:00

I knew parenting was going to be hard. I was under no illusions. But the part I most dreaded was when my children got old enough to want to play with me. The early part, while mind-numbingly exhausting, is fairly free of mental interaction with your child. You feed them, get them to sleep, hold them, make eye contact when they're actually awake, and you're good. I'm excellent at performing routine and dull tasks. I was really good at newborn parenting and got lots of compliments. Of course, I'm sure most new mothers get lots of compliments, but still.

No, the newborn part didn't phase me. The toddler part and beyond did and does scare me. You see, given the choice I will find myself a nice pleasant spot away from people with a book and stay there. You don't have to talk to me or play with me. In fact, just leave me alone. I'm sure I was different when I was younger, but starting at the age of ten the previous description fits me to a T (until I get done with the book and have no other books at hand. Then I get bored and make Damm play with me. Nothing dirty intended or implied there). I don't like games, most of the children's shows are BORING and INACCURATE. What's with Diego giving kids the idea that a jaguar makes a suitable pet? Or Dora. Dora is worse. I can't even think about it right now. I don't like baths (they get five minute or less baths), the park is fine for about ten minutes, and aren't you glad I wasn't your mother?

On the other hand, I am confident that my kids will get the best schooling it is possible to get. I grew up around women who didn't have any degrees to speak of raise intelligent kids who got excellent grades in college and in general succeeded in life. I will have a degree, the support of both my mom and my mother-in-law, and a husband who is in total agreement with homeschooling. I have no fear. I am also good at reading to my kids and making time for the bookstore and library. They like to watch me exercise, and that has to be good, right? Setting a good example and all that.

But still, I worry. What parent doesn't? I worry that somehow I will be denying them something because I never forced myself to religiously go to the park, or play games all afternoon. I worry because I don't know that many parents with kids so they have yet to have a playdate. And during the semester? Forget it. I don't even have time for dates for Damm and myself.

But then again, I must have been given these particular children for a reason. Perhaps they need my quirky personality to achieve their personal best. The Orclette's vocabulary is certainly beyond the other four-year-old girls I've come into contact with ("Momma, will you situate my book for me?" or "I am not perspicacious momma! Stop saying that!") and the Miniorc seems to enjoy the very detailed explanations I give him when he asks "Was" which means "What is this?" So I should probably stop worrying. Ha.

To those of you still following our lack of posting:

2011-06-10T16:28:00.002-05:00

After vanquishing the TMJ symptoms I came down with a bad case of pericoronitis, which is basically an infection of a wisdom tooth that didn't fully come in. Hurts like the dickens, but I found a dentist willing to see me yesterday morning (another said I had to wait until the 20th, even after I told her about the extreme pain I was having, and obviously I found her help inadequate) so I'm on antibiotics and big doses of ibuprofen. Even Vicodin, which I didn't take until this afternoon. I used to have a martyr complex and wouldn't take anything stronger than regular ibuprofen, but after going through labor (four and two years ago, not anything recent) and major jaw and neck pain I have no hesitations about taking the strong stuff. I discovered this afternoon that I felt like "airy love" and that I was "floating clouds" and that I definitely should not drive or text anybody while under the effects of Vicodin. Part of my reaction was probably the sudden cessation of pain which has been my constant companion since Monday.

So there you have it. My mouth has revolted against me, and I feel as if this is a wakeup call to get serious about our healthfulness. We're not unhealthy, just not as healthy as we could be. My teeth have never been cleaner, and I have flossed more times these past few days than I have in years (that being one of the ways to prevent the situation from occurring again. That and rinsing with warm salt water, which is plain icky). I have to do something about our stress levels, because I think my issues are in part due to the ruthless way in which we drive ourselves. The same type of schedule has to happen, but I think there might be a way to be kinder to ourselves in the process. I'm still mulling over how to do that. And in case you were curious having mouth issues is one way to lose weight and get lots of fruit and dairy servings. It hurts to eat and bananas, milk, and yogurt are the easiest on one's mouth.

It is now time for round two of Vicodin. I must prepare myself for feelings of "airy love".

We sure know how to disappear.

2011-06-02T23:07:00.002-05:00

There were three weeks of a semi-break. Damm didn't have school, I was working but not a prohibitive schedule, we had time to relax. And then it was over. Summer school started, my work continued, and relax time got squished. I'm not complaining-we were the ones who decided going back to school was a good thing, and by gum we're gonna see it through. Two more years. Four semesters.

In other news: behold, the girl that reads a lot! I'm finishing some of the historical books I picked up this past year, but I'm also diving into Lauren Willig's Pink Carnation series. Historical fun, bodice ripping, with a good dose of modern reality. I love the series, and am eagerly awaiting her next installment (not sure when that's happening). I tried to reread Carol Nelson Douglas's Midnight Louis series but I've discovered that her books are quite a bit darker than I remembered. So that's a fail. Next up is David Gemmel's Troy series; I like his other books so hopefully these will be good. And they tie in neatly with what Damm is studying right now: the awesomeness that is Greece. Apparently his teacher (a female) went through a slideshow of nude Greek statues, pausing at each one, not saying anything, just looking. At least she appreciates her field.

To update the pain situation: I've still got tightness in my shoulders and neck, but the horrible pain is gone. I'm thinking a real massage is in order (i.e. one that I have to pay for), and I've been wearing those nifty little heat pads when I can't manage to relax those particular muscles. I'm optimistic that I won't have to go back to the doctor.

The kiddos are fine. Birthdays coming up and all that. The Orclette simply MUST have a Tinkerbell/Princess cake. Every character needs to be represented. I'm thinking I can't just make her cake this year. The Miniorc doesn't care. I'm sure he'll be happy with whatever form of sugar I give him.

And, you dudes, I'm out. No inspiration and whatnot (I'm still thinking like some of Lauren Willig's characters. Top of the ton and all that).

Until next time.

Great opening line: "I'm on drugs".

2011-05-24T19:04:00.002-05:00

That's the line I greeted my coworkers with yesterday. Let me hasten to assure you that the meds I'm on were prescribed by a doctor. I just had gotten a wee bit giddy with the lack of pain. You see, for the last week I've had pain in my jaw, neck, and raging headaches. I'm guessing it's TMJ; the doctor has yet to confirm my diagnosis. He wants to wait and see what happens while I'm on the pain reliever thingy and muscle relaxant. I can agree with that; in the past I've had some pretty wacky stress symptoms that eventually went away. I'm hoping that's what this is, otherwise I'm facing a future without gum. I chew gum all the time. Maybe that's what happened to my jaw: it decided to protest the gum chewing.

So that was yesterday. I'm still having some symptoms, but I'm trying to relax my face and neck muscles and follow all the advice I can get on how to relieve TMJ. I'm no longer giddy. That's good. People are not used to seeing me giddy. Also yesterday-because it obviously wasn't enough to just have me loopy on medication-the belt on our car slipped off. Damm was absolutely wonderful and fixed it himself (my dad is NOT a car person and would've had to call a shop and a towtruck so I'm not used to the awesomeness that is someone who can fix their own car). But then, as the kids and I were waiting for him to finish, Miniorc backed into our cactus. I had to cut his shirt off him. Fortunately most of the thorns (is that what you call them?) were in his shirt, not his skin. Anyway, it was quite a day yesterday.

A kinda sad story.

2011-05-18T22:48:00.002-05:00

The cell was an air bubble 20 leagues below the oceans surface. A simple rock structure with a small grated hole in the bottom. There was no other entrance or exit. The walls were mold covered stone with no cracks or divots. The few bits of floor that were not under water were also covered in mold.

The cell's single occupant slept in one corner that was ever so slightly higher than the rest of the room. He drank from a small leak located in that same corner. He ate curious fish that came up poking puckering mouths at the waters surface. He rounded off his diet of fish with scrapings off the wall.

Every morning was the same routine. Wake up, do pushups, wallstands, curlups, jumping jacks, every varation of exercise imaginable. After roughly three hours, sit in meditation for a few hours, try and catch a fish. Nap until the daily dose of fresh air. Repeat. Stretch deply before bed. Stare at the ceiling until sleep comes.

Every day.

Every year.

Every five years frustrated granite claws slash at the walls and screams echo in the chamber in a brief display of emotion and grief before the stoicism returns.

But in the empty dead city beneath his cell there are no souls to hear his cries, to one to respond to his anger.

The city died a long time ago. Now only automated golems tend the prisoner, driving rocky geofish towards his cell, cultivating the oxygen releasing plants to keep him breathing.

The illex* who once lived here are all mindless plant zombies, infected by a single poisonous flower brought into this city by an unknowning offworld visitor; himself immune to poison he thought of the effect it would have on other beings. He only thought of presenting a rare jewel to his love.

She died 3 hours after receiving it. He was immediately accosted and arrested, locked away before the unthinkable happened.

The poison spread through her dead body and resurrected a plant clone whose tenticles now boasted long poisonous thorns dripping with with the very same poison that killed her.

With the single minded purpose of a creeping vine the plant sought out other victims. Within days the city was completely in chaos. Within the week all trade was stopped. The city interdicted. The tunnels leading to it closed. Everyone left succumbed. In a month, only plantlife, golems and geofish lurked where illex had made their homes.

That was centuries ago.

None of their screams had left the watery world they lived in to echo into his cell.

And so each half decade he raged in his mad calm not understanding what happened and who was to blame.

*An illex is a sentient similar in most respects to a squid.

I wrote this as an RP story for a game I play. It is set on an ocean world deep beneath its oceans.

Too loquacious.

2011-05-15T23:27:00.002-05:00

I have been reading the Amelia Peabody series, written by Elizabeth Peters. This has had a deleterious affect on my speech patterns. Amelia Peabody likes to talk a lot, and since her lectures and soliloquies are a result of her perspicacious cogitation, she uses a lot of high-sounding words. I'm about halfway through the series, and I'm sure my children and husband will be relieved when I have finished them.

But wait! Elizabeth Peters is really Barbara Mertz, who also writes under the pseudonym Barbara Michaels. I have plenty of material to go. If you are ever interested in Egyptology, check out B. Mertz's Temples, Tombs, & Hieroglyphs. Should I ever pen a historical book, mine will probably sound like hers. My papers this semester certainly reflected her influence. Only one teacher got annoyed (I still managed an A in his class though).

Which brings me to a fun piece of information: we both landed 4.0's this semester. I wasn't really worried, but if I don't worry I feel as if I should have, so it's just easier for me to act as if I should be worried. Aren't you glad you don't live in my brain?

Of course I can't stop studying just because it's summertime. I might get rusty. I have plans to actually finish Temples, Tombs, & Hieroglyphs, Our Lincoln (edited) by Eric Foner, and Hell's Guest by Col. Glenn Frazier. I'm as bad as my dad. I can keep reading books for years without finishing them.

I also plan to maintain my newly acquired Spanish skills. Maybe someday I can keep up with people who actually speak the language. I'll practice with my flute, in the hope that someday I'll have the time to play with a group again. I'll express my creative side and color with the Orclette and Miniorc.

And I'll be dreaming of parasols. It's a Peabody thing.

Another one bites the dust

2011-05-06T11:04:00.003-05:00

We are done with finals, we are done with school this semester. For three weeks. Then Damm has summer courses. I am off for the entire summer, but I'll hopefully be working as many hours at my store as they can give me. No rest for those of us who scramble through college.

I really have nothing to say today, other than announcing we're finally done. Give my brain the weekend to recuperate and then I'm sure we'll cook something up.

Until then,

The Orcs, who are busily devouring all the fiction-type books we couldn't read during the semester and watching lots and lots of movies.

Dragonfly

2011-04-28T14:59:00.001-05:00

Draw in power lab

2011-04-28T14:50:00.001-05:00

At the end I love everybody.

2011-04-25T23:29:00.003-05:00

The week before finals. We are almost done, the finish line is in sight. Suddenly I am sad, nostalgic, and my teachers are the BEST TEACHERS EVER. The professor that scrawled "Irrelevant!" through part of my paper? He is just the nicest person ever. The professor that was horribly unorganized? Well, I actually always liked that particular professor. The professor that scared me because of her sheer awesomeness (Kung Fu Panda reference!)? I'll take her anytime because she inspired me to reach new heights in my academic achievements! and so on and so forth.

It happens with places we've lived as well. Missouri? While I was there I complained ALL THE TIME. No friends, no direction in life, nothing to do ever, etc. Then we left, and all I can remember is the good stuff. Hanging out with cousins, eating pizza, the breeze through my window, our bedroom where the Orclette and I watched countless hours of t.v. (she was still a baby and couldn't do anything interesting yet), etc. I have fond memories of our first apartment here in NM, which is incredible since it was my first exposure to swamp coolers and swarms of ants. Not to mention the six-month long Damm absence.

So I imagine that I will miss NM itself, and our university, and our old but affordable domicile with all my used and worn furniture. I will look back on "our good ol' college days" and wish I could return. When I do that, hit me upside the head, will ya? 'Cause both of us working, in college, with small kiddos is not something I will ever want to do again. Nor do I want to live in this state again. Even if I had real AC. I have absolutely no desire to live amongst people who think swamp coolers are an acceptable cooling method. It's the principle of the thing.

One thing I do like about NMSU: their horses.

Why else go to school? Horse sense is the way to go.

50 Books To Read Before You Die

2011-04-21T08:09:00.002-05:00

Barnes & Noble sells a bookmark that has all 50 of those titles on it. It's nice and shiny too. I've read about half of the 50 titles. I could list them all here for you, but the bookmark was only a segue into my actual topic, which is reading. The love of it, to be more precise.

You see, I grew up reading. Probably because my mom was ALWAYS reading. She'd get lost in a book and not come out until it was finished. We loved it when she let herself read on schooldays, because that meant we didn't have to do school (don't worry, she knew her weakness and that didn't happen often). I do the same thing nowadays, and the Orclette has caught on. "Momma, can we watch Diego because you have a book?" Real quote. She's a smart one, that daughter of mine. She knows that when momma has a book it means unlimited episodes of Diego, because I HAVE TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS. And just like my mother before me, I know my weakness, and try to have as few days like that as possible.

I want to transfer this love of reading to my kids. They already think books are awesome and they love going to the bookstore and library, so I think I have a good shot. Not to mention Damm and his voracious tendencies when it comes to anything Sci Fi. They have two awesome role models.

The importance of reading cannot be overstressed, in my opinion. And your subject range needs to be diverse. Escapist fiction, surreal fiction, Oprah fiction (i.e. anything sad and depressing), all the non-fiction out there, etc. Currently I only read escapist fiction in my spare time. After reading the heavy tomes they call textbooks I have no appetite for Proust or Tolstoy. I stick with Julie Czerneda, the Liaden Universe novels, McCaffrey, etc. Pure invention, not many ties to the actual world we live in.

So, go out and buy/borrow a book. Patterson has a new one (when does he not? It helps that at this point he's collaborating with authors). Tina Fey has a book out. Look for her face and really big hairy man arms. Water for Elephants is popular, as is The Game of Thrones, due to the movies made about them. I recently read Cassandra Clare's City of Fallen Angels. I'm not sure I can say I liked it, because she got way more serious and intense than in her previous books. But my tolerance for weird and awful has almost disappeared, and you may think it's awesome.

So there you go. And if you're curious, the book I'm thinking of reading next in order to have read all 50 titles that someone thinks everyone should read is The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. It was all the rage a few years ago.

Hola.

2011-04-18T23:39:00.004-05:00

It occurred to me that I hadn't written a post lately. I'm not sure you want me writing right now, seeing as how I'm consumed with finals preparation. And so, for your viewing pleasure:

Goggles are the "in" thing around my house. Cool, huh?

This was taken at my embedded systems lab.

2011-04-10T19:19:00.001-05:00

I'm building a robot that uses the Arduino board. She's building "a robot that speaks Spanish and is amazing".

Blah Blah. And blah blah blah.

2011-04-04T22:55:00.002-05:00

Several times I have composed a post in my head, only to dismiss the possibility of writing it when I contemplated how much work it would take to type it. Today I am forcing myself to sit and type, because that's what everyone says to do when you have writer's block.

Except I don't think I have writer's block. I have end-of-school-itis. 26 days and counting til this semester is over and summer begins. Since I don't have to take summer classes, summer will truly feel like a vacation, and will leave me eager to begin the fall semester. That's a good thing. One of these days I'll post our fall schedule so you can gasp in horror.

I shouldn't be freaking out. Compared with other final weeks, these final weeks are rather easy. Some 1-2 pg. papers, one 2-3 pg. paper, and one 4-5 pg. paper. Plus a ten-minute speech. Two tests that I know of, but they're not comprehensive. Previous semesters I've had four 8-10 pg. papers, a speech to prepare, and a chemistry test to cram for.

But freaking out I am. I got a 26.5/30 on my Egyptian test. My previous test for this class I got 30/30. The way the professor works his curve my grade is still an A, but come on. I feel like I'm slipping. And I don't like speeches, no matter how frequently I give them.

Don't you wish you were back in school? You could freak out with me, and experience all sorts of interesting stress symptoms, such as a racing heart rate, panic attacks, and Sherlock Holmes-esque lethargy crises. It's a total rush, I tell you.

We be different.

2011-03-31T08:55:00.002-05:00

I am quoting from J. Loewen's book, Lies My Teacher Told Me:

"Teachers may try to convince themselves that education's main function is to promote inquiry, not iconography, but in fact the socialization function of schooling remains dominant at least through high school and hardly disappears in college. Education as socialization tells people what to think and how to act and requires them to conform." (p.350)

I have always found it interesting that I can spot a home schooled person with little difficulty. There is an air about them, a something that distinguishes them from other public or privately schooled students. I am not trying to say that home schoolers are better; I've known many intelligent and well-educated people who have gone through the public school system. But there is something that sets them apart, and I think it is that we were never required to conform. I can see it in my daughter's behavior: she does not act like the kids who are in a public preschool. My brothers and I were always slightly different than our public-schooled peers. Same with the home schoolers we were acquainted with. There was always major nonconformity going on. As my mother always exhorted me, "Be counter-culture!" I took her words to heart, went out and got myself tattooed. I don't think that's what she was expecting.

Anyway, I found that passage interesting, and took time out from the massive amounts of homework I have to share it with you. Now I'm going back to it. Massive sigh. Need more coffee. etc.

Bataan Death March

2011-03-29T23:43:00.002-05:00

This will be my 1, 070 post. I find it hard to fathom that I've written that many posts.

Onward and upward: The Bataan Death March. Occurred during WWII, horrific experience, thousands died. Watch "The War" by Ken Burns. It has lots of pictures and descriptions of what happened. In 1989 NMSU's ROTC decided to create a march commemorating and honoring the men who had been forced to participate. This year over 6,000 people participated, and my dad and myself were among them. We did the Honorary 15-mile march rather than the 26.2-mile march, but I'm determined to do the full thing next year. It was an incredible experience, and I'll get to the details soon. First, though, I have to tell you about the Bataan survivors we met.

Every participant gets a certificate, and we were advised to get the survivors to sign it. We did, and my dad bought me a book written by Col. Frazier (I think that's his rank, the book is in the bedroom and I can't go get it because the kiddos are sleeping), who was one of the survivors. I got that signed as well. We also had the privilege of speaking to the wife of one of the survivors, and that was also an incredible experience. We actually got to speak to Col. Frazier two more times: once right before the march started, and again after we were finished and collapsed in two of the most comfy chairs ever. He was a natural storyteller, and it was a pleasure to listen to him speak. The sponsors and organizers of the event had a closing ceremony to honor the participants and the Bataan survivors (15 this year); when they walked up to the front of the audience the standing ovation went on for several minutes. It brought tears to my eyes, and I know I wasn't the only one.

The march itself was grueling. We ran the first 7-8 miles, and then we hit the hill. It went on for 2-3 miles, and it wasn't just a hill. It was a sandy hill. And the wind was extremely strong and right in our faces. We decided to walk up the hill, thinking that we would walk once the course returned to normal. It didn't. Next up was the Sand Pit, another 2-mile stretch of uphill sand, which unlike the hill bore no resemblance to a road. Our legs were shot, and we decided we'd be walking the rest of the way. According to those who did the full march, our 2-3 mile hill went on for several more miles and the incline increased. Fun times. The volunteers at the water stations were incredible, though, and full of encouragement. The other marchers/runners were also positive, and there was a real sense of community. We saw, on our way out of the base, a dude walking on crutches with the rest of his team (military). There were guys with only one leg. There was a lady who refused to quit and finished the march with an IV attached to her. Other military teams ended up carrying buddies who couldn't go on. It was mind boggling, the determination to finish that almost every participant seemed to have. It almost makes me tear up thinking about it.

It was that determination, that "never give up" attitude that makes me want to do this again. We were honoring those men who never gave up, and those who fell after giving their all. I don't care what you think of America's military or past actions, it was an overwhelmingly patriotic experience. As we crossed the finish line two Bataan survivors shook our hands and thanked us. One kissed my hand gallantly. I wish I knew his name.

An incredible, amazing experience.

Culture of Exercise

2011-03-24T06:36:00.002-05:00

Occasionally I will wake up in the morning and wonder what other people, people who don't exercise or plan out meals, think about. What does it feel like, not having these issues weighing on one's mind? Is it liberating? I don't know anyone who doesn't exercise. At least I don't think I do.

That being said, there is a difference among exercisers. There are those who, like my in-laws, have decided that they need to exercise for their health, and so they do what's necessary to accomplish that. There are others who get exposed to the fitness bug and run (pun!) with it. And then there are those who, like myself and my brothers, were raised in a "culture of fitness". Allow me to explain.

It all started in the womb. My mother never allowed her first two pregnancies to slow her down. She walked/biked, gardened, and only gained 18 pounds with me. When she was pregnant with my brother she tells the story of when she biked to church in freezing cold weather, me in the bike carrier and her 8 months pregnant. I'm convinced that's what inspired me to make my cross-country trip when I was 8 months pregnant (to see Damm, who was graduating from Basic. I had a good reason).

Growing up we remained active. Walking, parks, gardening. When I was 8 my parents decided that we were going to play sports and enrolled first my brother, then myself, in soccer. It was a love affair that survives to this day. My love of running is a fortunate by-product of this previous enthrallment. Eventually, with three kids in soccer and two parents who played pickup games and a mother who coached, we had soccer practices five days a week and games all weekend. We were always on the move.

Later I decided that I was going to run races. When I was 7 my grandpa had run a 1-mile race with me, and I had run one or two others in the intervening years. My aunts were active runners and triathletes, and my grandparents decided that at 50 (I think that was their age) they were going to learn how to ski because the prices went down astronomically. Everyone was active. There was no escape. So I ran a half-marathon, a couple of shorter races. Then I decided to tackle the marathon distance, and ran the Austin Marathon twice. My brothers also have run races and the youngest participated in triathlons with my parents. Today, in case you were curious, my parents are arriving in Las Cruces, partly to see us over Spring Break and also so my dad and I can run the 15-mile Honorary Bataan March. Perfect vacation activity.

So, as hopefully I have illustrated, exercise was not an option growing up. It was something we all did, constantly and enthusiastically. Interest in nutrition has also stemmed from our "culture of exercise", and although we (Damm and myself) don't have the best of diets right now we are always trying. I want to pass along this ingrained need to be active to my children as well. I want them to consider exercise as part of their lives, and not as an optional activity. Given that their dad is in the army and I do things like INSANITY workouts for fun, I think they're well on their way to being raised in a "culture of exercise".

Dear Progressive:

2011-03-21T11:14:00.003-05:00

Dear Progressive Home Advantage,

You might remember me.

I am the father of two young but adorable children who is a full time student with the adorable children's mother and a member of the national guard who fulfills all his obligations and makes payments on time and helps others and donates 10% of his income to either the poor or the church.

I'm also the name on one of your smaller policies. A policy started on January 12th for approximately $20k in insurance for a year, for a payment of $225? Something like that. I know it sounded a bit too nice. I should have known better.

You see back on March 10th my car was relieved of my book bag and several other bags containing items worth about 1/10th to 1/20th of my policy value. Trying to be high speed and reliable I thought I should report this as soon as possible and called that night for a police report. After doing that I was told by well meaning friends, "hey maybe your insurance will cover this?"

So Friday March 11th I called you to ask if this theft incident was something I should even talk to you about? The friendly lady said hey sure that's covered you can make a claim. So that morning I made a claim with your company. Because you know... that is what the insurance is for.

Imagine my surprise when Saturday March 19th I get a letter in the mail. A letter mailed 6 days after my claim. A letter saying my policy had been canceled. Due to "unfavorable loss experience".

I called you in surprise as soon as your office opened Monday. Your very cheerful professional staff explained that it was your policy to cancel any policies that made a claim within the first 60 days of the policy. Oh. Yeah that was a bit of a shock. You kindly sent me copies of my policy and pointed at page 32 on the right hand side where it explains that you can cancel the policy for any reason at all within the first 60 days. Ah bother.

To bad I hadn't waited until Monday instead of being high speed. Because Monday March 13th....would have been day 61. Instead of Friday March 11th, Day 58.

So as it is I'm sorry that the theft of my belongings happened three days too early for you and I dearly hope that you don't miss my business too much because I can no longer do business with you or any of your subsidiaries and as soon as I can I will be saving you the bother of insuring me for the least amount possible on the other items you say that you cover for me.

Respectfully,
Your former policy holder.

Tools of the Trade

2011-03-18T07:50:00.002-05:00

When I was younger I bought this electronic dictionary bookmark thingy. It was rather ugly, awkward, and was soon eclipsed by better technology, but I loved it. I carried it with me everywhere.

I also had a plethora of dictionaries. Old ones, new ones; you just never knew what you might need. Of course I had other word books, although interestingly enough no thesaurus. Very odd.

Today, although I still own a dictionary just for form's sake, I use the internet. My favorite online resource for the English language is The Free Dictionary, mainly because I like the layout. When I want to cite a definition in one of my papers I go one over to the Merriam Webster site, since it sounds more professional (to me, anyway). For Spanish, I use the SpanishDict site. The definitions are sound (from what I can tell) and the translation engine (I think that's what its called) at least gives me an idea of what to say/what has been said that I can't decipher.

That information all by itself isn't very interesting, I know. What I find interesting, and what prompted me to write about my non-interesting obsession with dictionaries, is how I go about writing these days.

For Spanish: first move is to open up a tab with my Spanish dictionary. Cannot proceed without it. This is understandable, in my opinion. I'm dealing with a lot of words I don't know the exact meaning of (and I like knowing the exact meaning).

For English: Used to be I could write an email, a blog post, even the occasional paper without having recourse to a dictionary. Now I can't. One of the first windows I open (is it a window or a tab? I have no idea) is the free dictionary site. I don't think it's because I've gotten forgetful; on the contrary, because of my enforced higher volume of reading I'm stumbling across new words and I want to use them, but I have to verify/obtain the exact meaning of the word, so I don't accidentally offend some erudite professor (run on sentence!).

Sometimes I wonder if this is abnormal behavior. Do other students/people feel the need to make sure they have their various dictionaries to hand? Or is it just me?

Anyway, those are my tools of the trade, trade being at this point student.

URGENT

2011-03-17T10:35:00.002-05:00

So in one of my classes, which is entitled Teaching History, all of the students were put into groups and taxed with coming up with one week of lesson plans, one part of which would be assigned to the class as a whole. Oh, and this is an online class. I can email but I don't have recourse to other types of communication.

My dear classmates have come up with what originally sounded like an interesting project: interview five people who were 15 or older in 1970. Sounds fun, right? And we only have to ask five questions. Problem is this assignment was only clarified this morning (so far, only one group has managed to be clear in their instructions; all others I've had to ask for clarification) and it's due Monday. And just to be clear that I'm not dragging my feet on this, I'll let you know that the project was assigned late Tuesday/early Wednesday. I am not dragging my feet.

So I ask my dad if I can interview him (of course) and if he knows anyone of the correct age. Yes, he says, when is it due? I answer Sunday, and there is a long pause in texting. He then lets me know that that is nowhere enough time, and that in the real world people require more time to respond. I agree with him. I'm not interviewing students, I'm interviewing people who most likely have complex jobs and lots of responsibilities (my dad and his colleagues all work for NASA). I don't think this was taken into account.

So my question for you is: where you born in 1955 or previously? If so, can I ask you five questions? Everything can be done via email, and I will have the questions ready by tonight. As you will already know, it's due Monday, so I would love to have everything by Sunday. If that's too fast, no worries. I think our contact info is somewhere in our blogger profile; if not, just leave a comment and I'll give you my email address.

Thank you all for your time.

Harassed Student.

More Orclette Sayings.

2011-03-16T22:02:00.003-05:00

My daughter has been a goldmine of sayings lately. I don't know if anyone else would find what she says hilarious, but in case you do here goes:

"Momma, there's a sparking pot right there!" (translation: parking spot)

"Momma, a bus has to do what it has to do." (I don't know what a bus needs to do, but apparently she does)

In addition to saying the funniest things, she has learned how to bargain:

"Momma, how about we watch Diego and then Gilmore Girls. Is that a good plan?"

Or this:

"It's ok momma it's ok. I'll fix it." (Anytime I express frustration)

She also lectures her brother, in fine imitation of myself. That's a bit spooky. She has also taken over washing my car.

Isn't she awesome?

I was not prepared.

2011-03-15T22:05:00.002-05:00

Today we were driving in the car, listening to music. Or rather, searching for a suitable song to listen to. After not finding any, I turned the radio off amid protests from the Orclette. I explained to her that I couldn't find any "good" songs. She replied, and I quote: "Momma, I like bad songs".

Immediately I thought of her future years when boys would become tempting. Was this going to be a habit of liking "bad"? How could I prevent this?

Then I came up with my solution. Damm has been wanting me to learn how to shoot a gun, and also to buy me one. What if, the first time Orclette brings her eventual boyfriend over, both Damm and myself have guns to hand? You know, the terrifying dad but twice as terrifying. Make that boy run for the woods.

Then again, I'm probably reading way too much into her statement. She likes to contradict whatever I say, and most likely that was her motivation.

I am not looking forward to the teenage years.

A story.

2011-03-12T21:38:00.004-06:00

For one of my classes I have to write a fictional story based on a photo. I chose the one you see above.

Here's what I have so far:

"I like to think that I can read people. Tell where they’ve been, where they’re going, what they’re currently thinking about. This talent of mine extends to photographs as well. That’s what I was thinking when I came across the picture of a woman surrounded by her two children during the Great Depression. I was utterly fascinated, and stopped my reading upon the era which, if you ask me, was boring anyway. I set to work analyzing the woman.

She was a handsome woman to be sure. Not young, but not yet old. The lines in her face added a maturity that was attractive. Although worn, she was still strong and not yet despairing. Her gaze was worried, but had not yet become downcast. Her fingers were what had betrayed her worry; they lingered doubtfully upon her face.

Her children clung to her, hiding their faces from the camera. She was their rock, their provider, their comfort. While they were with her they weren’t afraid. She would make everything alright. She does her best to conceal her preoccupation from them because she knows how important she is to them, how tied to her emotions they are.

I sat back in my chair, satisfied with my analysis. I felt sure that the woman had survived the Great Depression, and her children along with them. She would have weathered World War II, the Cold War, Vietnam, and whatever other storm that made the mistake of wandering too close to her. I wondered if she had survived on her own, or if she had had a husband. It wouldn’t have mattered, she would have made it without anyone, but I didn’t like thinking of her being all alone. She deserved to have someone.

My thoughts turned to perusing what I would’ve done if I had been in her situation. Would I have remained strong for my kids? Would I have let the terror of not knowing how I was going to feed them control me? She didn’t. She had acknowledged the terror but hadn’t let it rule her. I’d like to think that I would’ve done the same.

Bah, I thought. I won’t pass the midterm by looking at a picture. I would have to read the rest of the chapter as well. Why didn’t they make picture history books? Perhaps that would be my niche when I finally graduated. Writing picture history books. I liked the irony.".

I'm not really a fiction writer. Be gentle. It'll remain a fragment because the students who are responsible for this particular assignment (long story for another time) neglected to mention how long they wanted it to be. So I figured I'd write as if my segment were part of a larger segment. I'll probably go over it again, add some length and perhaps breadth to it.

Ignorance annoys me.

2011-03-08T21:11:00.003-06:00

I've been reading "Lies My History Teacher Told Me" for one of my classes. It's been enjoyable, if somewhat difficult, reading. The latest chapter, however, was downright disturbing. It was all about the environment and how we are ALL GOING TO DIE. He (Loewen) didn't put it quite like that. That was just my overall impression.

What annoys me is that I have no prior reading/knowledge/experience with which to compare his data. I only have biases. Know of Rush Limbaugh? One of my earliest memories is of listening to his talk show in the car, along with other conservative talk-show hosts. I believe it was Rush that called environmentalists "environmentalist wackos" and regularly dismissed their concerns and actions. I can't remember his reasons for doing so.

But you know where I'm coming from now. That's the only background I have in environmental issues. And in thinking about this appalling lack of information, I remembered something else conservatives like to say (well, the ones I remember anyway): colleges are liberal bastions. Me, being me, was puzzled by this. Why would they call colleges that? What data are they basing this on?

It wasn't until I started reading Lies that I began to think more deeply about this conundrum. I think Loewen is spot on when he claims that history textbooks are woefully inadequate. As for the rest of his conclusions? Some of them I can agree with, because I have had prior opportunity to peruse the subject matter. Others I have no idea. It sounds pretty, but of course that is not enough to judge accurately.

Here is what I've come up with so far: Republicans and Democrats agreed to a secret deal. The Republicans would control the public school system and the Democrats would get the colleges. Sound good? Being serious, however, here is my working theory: public school history textbooks, among other subjects, are biased. Students are not made aware of all the moves that have been made by our government and society. They have a skewed view. In college, students come upon a more adequate source of information and as a result rethink what they have been taught in light of new revelations. Better?

Back to my original topic, though: not knowing more about environmental issues annoys me. I know the information is out there, but why wasn't it included in our courses of study? I don't think my mom considered it an issue in the early days, so she didn't look for curriculum that broached the subject (in case you don't know, I was home schooled). Now she recycles, buys organic, and is well-versed in the danger of some modern food creations (Sara Lee pastry, anyone?).

For that matter, who's bright idea was it to let students think Columbus was the first intrepid explorer to grace the America's shores? Did you know that African explorers might have made it to South America? The evidence for that is sketchy, apparently, but that would've been so cool to know. Given my knowledge of once-mighty Egypt, the conquering Arabs, and other major non-European civilizations, the European takeover of civilization (as presented in textbooks) never made sense. I still don't know enough about other civilizations to satisfy my curiosity.

Ignorance is ANNOYING. Have I mentioned that already? I'm going to have to write my kid's history textbook. I don't want them faced with the same woeful lack of information. Actually, writing one would be way too much work. I think I'll just use original sources. What a novel concept. Rather than read what someone else far removed thought of an event, my kids will read what people during the event thought and wrote.

There is simply not enough time in the day to read everything I want to read to find out all I want to know. And I don't have enough energy. My lovely post yesterday about a "culture of learning"? Yeah. I spent most of today on the couch, suffering from an attack of ennui.

"Expunge that phrase from your lexicon!"

2011-03-07T20:51:00.003-06:00

In case you were wondering, that's the phrase I said to the Orclette after she barraged me with "momma, do this right now" all morning. She understood my intent, if not the actual words, and ceased ordering me about.

And I have been thinking about what I said all morning, because I said it naturally. I wasn't trying to come up with words seldom used or sound smart. It's just what came out. And that's how I've always spoken to the Orclette. I never spoke baby-talk to her. I couldn't, actually. It sounded silly and my voice wouldn't do it. As a result she sounds more like a teenager than a three-year old, pulling words and phrases out of her memory that routinely astonish us. Of course her maturity level is still at three, so sometimes the combination is overwhelmingly funny. In case you were curious, I do occasionally speak baby-talk to the Miniorc. I appear to have mastered that language the second time around.

In other areas as well the Orclette excels. It's a combination of natural smarts and her parents always talking about what they're doing in school. And it struck me this afternoon: I want to develop a culture of learning around my kids. We're on our way already. "Dora the Explorer" is frequently on and because my collegiate Spanish course is simply not adequate in learning the language I play language cd's while we're in the car. Recently the Orclette has begun asking me the Spanish equivalent for anything she sees or thinks about. The Miniorc can do basic chores (like throwing things away) and follow most commands/instructions even though he doesn't feel the need to speak much yet. Both of them love to "read" and will pore over the pictures in books. The Orclette loves going to the engineering classes with Damm (although she doesn't understand what they're talking about). The Miniorc has inherited his mother's love of pens and highlighters.

So at the moment I don't feel the need to change our routine, beyond making sure I play a wider range of music. My mother did that for us, and all three of us turned out to be musicians. I'd love for my kids to do the same. They already love the piano and singing is a constant activity. In the future? I don't know yet. I just got the idea, and it needs to germinate for awhile.

Lest I appear to be tooting our horn, let me add that there's plenty of frivolity going on as well. There are days that no school/learning/culture activities are done, and on those days I wile away the day watching t.v. or reading escapist novels. But I do aspire to more days with a "culture of learning" going on and less "popular culture". Less t.v., more arts. Less escapist fiction, more literature that makes us think and reevaluate. That kind of thing.

And the best compliment I received today was my little brother telling me that he was totally going to use the phrase "Expunge that phrase from your lexicon!" because it was so cool.

Oral Topic

2011-03-06T07:50:00.002-06:00

Note: Some comments to posts had been disappearing. I didn't even think to check my spam filter, but I did today, and lo and behold there they were. They have been released from their spam prison.

Back to my topic: Once again, one of my professors likes to have their students give speeches. Last semester I chose to speak about Jin Ping Mei, which is, for all intents and purposes, a pornographic book. My topic was something along the lines of "What can we learn about Chinese society through its treatment of taboo subjects such as sexuality?" I'm sure I phrased that more prettily, but I am not rifling through my papers from last semester to find out precisely what I had written. In case you were wondering, the speech was well received. The only detractor was that I hadn't included pictures.

This semester I don't think a subject like that would fly well. My Jin Ping Mei talk was given to a room full of Honor students, who had been working in close quarters with each other. My European class, however, is a regular class and is held in a huge, drafty classroom. It just won't work.

So I think I'm going to talk about Belgium during WWII. My father was born there, my grandparents lived through WWII while living there, so it has nice congruity for me. I probably won't mention why I chose the topic, as this class is taught by the professor who called my attempt to personalize an essay "Irrelevant" with a huge red slash mark. I'm getting over it. Really, I am. I have found the bright side and I will review all of his comments and see if I can learn anything from them.

And that's how far I've gotten in my thinking/research. I emailed my dad, as he is a military history fan and might know of some good resources. I'll start my research soonish. At least the professor has made this easy and prohibited any use of electronics during our speeches. No power points, which is disappointing because I just learned how to make them. If you had any doubts about my professed ineptness with computers, I'm sure that information just banished them. And yes, this professor it that person who doesn't like technology. I don't agree with his stance but it's his classroom.

So there you go. I have yet to decide if I will focus on the military side of things or the civilian. Maybe both? I have to talk for ten minutes. Which wouldn't seem so daunting if this professor was more likable. I really don't want to be standing in front of a bunch of people freaking out that what I'm saying is "Irrelevant!" But then, I will have the floor, and it will be mine for ten whole minutes. Any comments but mine would be irrelevant. I guess I haven't truly gotten over that comment yet.

Irrelevant indeed.

More, dangnabbit!

2011-03-02T23:29:00.002-06:00

I need more blogs to read. Or the blogs I do read need to update more. Twice a day is just not enough!

That is all.

Bed Rest

2011-03-01T22:29:00.004-06:00

I've been faithfully following fellow blogger TJ's postings about her pregnancy. I'm addicted to her writing style. While reading her accounts of being put on bed rest and other pregnancy adventures, I found myself wondering: Would I have gone on strict bed rest? I mean, I did trek cross country at eight months pregnant to see Damm after six months apart. Against doctor's orders, I might add. It got so bad with my doctor that I threatened to wait until I went into labor to grace the hospital with my presence. I don't do confrontations like that over the phone. It was quite unnerving.

So I'm not a model patient. I don't think I'd take a sentence of strict bed rest lying down (a pun! a glorious pun!). I didn't have an actual reason at first to hypothetically disobey my doctor. It was just a feeling. Usually my feelings are right. So then I asked myself: is strict bed rest safe? Has there been any controversy over this?

Now before I go further I have to say two things: One, I am in no way critiquing TJ. She is doing what she thinks best for her baby, and I have nothing but admiration for the lengths she's willing to go to keep her child safe. If she thinks something is right for her kid, then that something is right. I hold that to be true for all mothers (within the usual boundaries, of course. I am not talking about drug addicts). Two, I am not pregnant. I have no plans to become so. I, like my mother before me, love creating controversy with our doctors. It's totally my mother's fault this post is being written.

So back to strict bed rest: yes, there is a camp that thinks it's harmful to put a mother on it. Here is an article I found. I have no idea what the Science Daily is or whether it's trustworthy. I was just looking for evidence that this notion is disputed.

Cue my reasons for doubting strict bed rest's effectiveness: We are always being told that sitting around is harmful. It's bad for circulation, it's bad for our weight, it's just bad. So sitting around all day in bed would basically make our bodies not function at maximum capacity. Furthermore, what about the psychological effects of sitting in bed all day? I always say that sports is half mental, half physical. Actually someone else said that, and now I repeat it. I know that for me, bed rest would feel like a Doomsday sentence. It would leach most of my hopeful, bubbly personality.

But Wulfa, you say, these doctors are highly trained people who know what they're doing. This is true. But does that automatically make them right? What if they haven't kept up on the latest research and findings? What if they're stuck in their ways and unable to change? All of this can happen, and does. And if another doctor criticizes me for getting information off the internet just because it's the internet we are going to have serious words. I am aware that some (many!) sites on the internet aren't trustworthy. But the Mayo Clinic webpage? Or the American Pediatrics site?

But I'm about to run after a rabbit trail. Back to topic: I have no firm convictions that strict bed rest is wrong. I merely have doubts. And I would not dream of telling a woman on bed rest that she should go against her doctor's instructions. I'm just concerned that even if strict bed rest is shown to be harmful, most doctors will choose to continue the practice simply because it's what has been done in the past. And that annoys me. Because if ever a third Orc child should be conceived, and I get put on any type of bed rest, there is going to be a mighty fight a comin', which could've been prevented if my doctor was up to speed. Although maybe I'd get an avante-garde phsyician. It could happen.

Given that I have issues (when do I not?), what would my solution be? It is this: modified bed rest. I think that is a wonderful idea. Some light and easy yoga, puttering around the house, lots of naps, absolutely no strenuous activity. But some activity. It would keep the circulation going, not put serious dampers on the psyche, yet would not endanger mother or child.

Of course, I am not a medical professional. I am merely babbling. I thought I should point that out. In no way should my words be taken as medical advice. Perhaps I should've put that at the beginning of my rambling. Also: I originally was using the phrase "bed rest" and then went back and changed it to "strict bed rest". I attempted to make sure the different phrasing fit, but if I missed something now you know why it sounded awkward.

Perhaps now I can stop thinking about this issue. I've expressed my doubts, given some thought as to why (don't judge my research/thinking abilities by this post), and have even given a solution. I even bought a lava lamp today. I am officially "cool".

More things for school.

2011-03-01T05:00:00.000-06:00

My Song

The song that defines me. It isn’t as easy as that. I listen to music very rarely and when I do the range of songs I listen to is rather wide. There has never been one song or one type of song that I really like. I do remember key songs that really impacted me at certain times of my life.

I grew up on country (“Ain’t nothing wrong with my radio”) and Baptist hymns (“At the Cross”). When I hit college I started listening to rock (“Rainmaker”) and more contemporary praise music (“Show me your glory”). In between my college years it was more just rock with “Cold Eyed Bitch” (Jet) and “24 hours” (Jem). Later on “Citizen Soldier” by 3 Doors Down was initial reason I even looked into joining the Army. And now that I’m married with kids my tastes have drifted again with Cascada(“Evacuate the Dance Floor”) and Lady Gaga(“Pokerface”) and Flo Rida(“Apple bottom jeans”) taking a big role in my life. But the hymns are still very much a factor as I sing my kids to sleep with “Nothing but the Blood”.

I’m sure that if you were a music major, you could find something about these songs that connects them all into what I like. I know that I still sing along to any of them that I hear. But none of them have ever been dominate over a large period of my life.

So I decided to answer the question a different way. Rather than look for the song that has impacted my life the most I would look for the song that most defines where I would like to be in life. And that would be “It is well with my soul” by Horatio G. Spafford (Lyrics) and Phillip P. Bliss (Music).

It is a song I’ve liked a lot throughout my life but not one that I listened to much. The key thing is the lyrics. Even if you are not a religious person there is value in being a soul at peace. And if you are there is even more value in being at peace and centered with your God. I’ve lived a very restless and uncertain life, always moving, always making new plans; and I find something extremely desirable about being able to be at peace in all circumstances, whether good or bad. And so I would say that –my- song, the song that defines who I am would be this one. Because it defines my overwhelming urge to be content in all moments of life. To be able to find rest, to “be still and know”₍₁₎ that God is God.

(1) Psalms 46:10

Things I've written for school recently...Explinations

2011-02-28T21:48:00.002-06:00

Yes I misspelled it.

Anyways, due to my lack of energy overall and my general oh crap I'm busy I decided that in order to keep a presence here on the blog I would post the things I had to write for school whenever I had to write them.... since I have to write them anyways.

So my next few posts will be silly little things like the last one.

"Rory got a D!"

2011-02-28T21:39:00.003-06:00

Rory, for those of you who are not acquainted with my Gilmore Girls obsession, is a brilliant student who never received a grade lower than an "A". Low and behold, she was accepted to a highly competitive school. Her first assignment was returned to her with a big fat "D" on the front page. She was devastated.

I did not receive a "D", but I did get an 88 on a test that I could have gotten a 100 on. It was for a history class, and it was a take-home test. When I received my test back I was, of course, furious. How dare the professor criticize my writing? I am an A student! He's dumb! Blah blah blah. I worked myself up to a wonderful harangue, and started using imaginative language. Then the Orclette started repeating some of what I was saying, and I calmed myself down.

The reason I had so many points taken off is that I used quotations from the book and from the lesson. I think I should get extra points for remembering what the professor said in class, to the letter. The professor does not like his students using quotes, however. He wants his students to read the information, absorb it, then spit it back out in their own words. For the most part, that's what I did. I just added a few pertinent quotes. Other students, however, were apparently copying and pasting their answers. I think my grade was significantly higher than theirs.

So, today in class, we received a very no-bones lecture about how our tests were to be written. I find myself wondering why he didn't spell it out like that before the test. I reviewed my notes, wondering if he had and I had forgotten, but I have nothing. I do have instructions on how to cite my answers, which had led me to believe I could use quotes. Bah.

My biggest complaint is that different professors want different things. Every other semester my professors have loved my inclusion of quotations. They have loved the way I thought through everything. They didn't really pay attention to grammar, because they weren't English teachers. That bit me in the butt, too. My grammar was ripped apart. My personal experience, which I had included because other professors had proclaimed personal experiences made a paper special, was roundly rejected, crossed through, and had the word "Irrelevant" written across it. That kind of hurt.

What is funny is that I had been complaining that my papers never received anything but positive feedback. They came back with "Good!" and "Excellent!" scrawled across the top. Now I have a teacher who gets quite annoyed by grammatical errors, and I was not prepared. I should've kept my mouth shut.

I think I'll be ok though. An 88 is a high B, and now that I know what he wants I won't score that low again. I'm 88% confident that I will leave this class with an overall grade of "A". If I don't ... but that does not bear thinking upon.

Nerds must maintain their reputations, you know.

Things I've written for school recently.

2011-02-28T14:52:00.000-06:00

Personal Values

I was tasked with writing out the personal values that I live by. This wasn’t a simple task for me. I had never sat down and written them out before. In fact, looking back at my life, I do not think I had ever even thought about them before. So, when given the task I found myself a bit off kilter. I spent the next few days using whatever free time I had thinking, “What have I been living by?” “What factors have dominated my reasons for doing something?” Eventually I came up with the following values and descriptions. These four statements are primarily what drive me.

Do your duty.

If you are given a job; do it. If you have a responsibility; fulfill it. Don’t shirk your tasks. Matt 21:28-32

Support your family.

This is whatever family group you may have: Your unit, your workplace, your friends at the bar, your actual family. If someone talks bad about them, defend them. If they are in a fight, fight on their side. If you are fighting with your family don’t let it show to outsiders. If they need help, give it. 1 Timothy 5:7-9

Don’t be afraid.

Do not let fear stop you from doing something. If it is something that you would do if there was no fear then do it if there is fear. Fear should never be a deciding factor. Joshua 1:9

Don’t cause trouble for others.

Don’t stir up trouble in your community. Do not pick fights. Nothing is more annoying than someone who is always looking for a way to get people fighting or get people upset. Proverbs 6:16-19.

Cotton Candy

2011-02-24T23:02:00.002-06:00

"It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!" (Despicable Me). That was possibly the cutest line ever. And it always makes me think of cotton candy.

So .... we're a military family. I know we've mentioned that before, but it does no harm to mention it again, especially since it pertains to my story. It's an Orclette story, though I won't get to her until the very end.

Damm's family was also military. My grandfather and grandmother on my mother's side were military, and on my dad's side my grandfather was involved in the Flemish black market during WWII. Not exactly military service, but he was a warrior in his own way. My parents, however, were not military, so I grew up not really thinking about our armed forces. When I did it was vague, "wow they are like mythical heroes!" type thoughts, because I grew up watching John Wayne totally change the course of history, and the persona he created is, in my opinion, somewhat mythical. When I got older this morphed into "wow, aren't they yummy-looking" thoughts, although this stopped when I met Damm. I do not think yummy thoughts about other men any more, except for Sean Connory. I'm sort of kidding. About Sean Connory, not about the other thing.

But the Orclette is having a very different upbringing. Her dad (who is Damm. That sentence feels awkward, so I felt the need to clarify, but oddly enough not to revise the original sentence) is military, and because she's well acquainted with the flesh and blood people behind the uniform she will never have those mythical thoughts her mother (which is me) had, though her grandfather is doing his best to get her to believe John Wayne is the best actor ever. She's also, incidentally, learning how to be an officer. You should see her order all of the cadets around. There is no hero-worship there. She speaks and she expects it to happen. I'm thinking this is why we have trouble at home with her obeying me.

It was made known to me recently, however, just how far that acquaintance and familiarity with the military has gone. My daughter, in her pink polka-dot dress, was using a computer program to paint. Her hair was slightly curvy, and she looked absolutely adorable. The cadets in the room got carried away with their conversation and ventured into territory they normally avoid when my innocent children are in the room. One of them loudly questioned another, saying "So are you three forming a threesome now?" If you are not familiar with the military, this sort of thing is tame. Lame, even. But of course, not appropriate for my children.

Cue my daughter, all pinkness and roses, turning around and bursting into laughter at the pronouncement.

I was horrified. Everyone else was lost in laughter.

Good news is that she doesn't understand what was funny, only that the cadets were being louder than usual. In fact, that's probably what she was laughing at. At least I'm hoping so.

So in a few years fully expect to see a picture of my daughter, dressed in camo, holding a pink bow and arrow. Or even the other way around. Her military upbringing will no doubt be obvious for everyone to see.

Brain overload!

2011-02-24T11:47:00.002-06:00

Man, my brain hurts. I spent most of yesterday thinking about my last post, and most of this morning thinking about the comments on it and my responses to them. Worrying, too: "Did I think out my answers? Was I unemotional enough? etc." I tend to avoid discussing controversial issues. Really. I like to sit in the back of the room and listen to other people furiously converse about subjects, and leave when it gets too heated.

But do I not engage because I prefer to listen and learn, or because I'm too afraid? And if I'm afraid, what exactly am I afraid of? This is another issue that has consumed my brain this morning. I'm not kidding, last night I was freaked out by what I had written about, even though I felt it was important to say it. And if I felt it was important, it should be said.

But it's not as simple as that. In studying history, I have been made aware of the danger of elucidating ideas as facts. The facts as we know them are frequently subject to change, and are usually open to interpretation. Thus, when I open my mouth, I am barraged by mental needles reminding me to hedge my answers, make sure my audience knows my qualifications, don't commit to anything unless 100% certain. And even then, it's just a very likely hypothesis. If you haven't heard a historian speak on their subject, watch a documentary. I love how they almost never commit fully to an opinion.

I'm not saying all my conversations are that careful. They aren't; I can talk nonsense with the best of them. But when I'm putting thoughts onto paper or explaining my position to someone who doesn't know me that well and hasn't seen my charming demeanor in person? You bet I'm being careful. And I try to be gracious when my errors are pointed out to me. Bah, I sound like a girl scout. All sugary and sweet. I have to throw myself up now:)

So if I'm careful in conversing, and aware that I need to be careful when throwing facts and opinions around, why does it freak me out to go public with an opinion? Of course, the answer to that is simple. I don't want to be laughed at. I don't want a conversation to degenerate into name-calling, which has happened to me before, although never through this blog. I don't want people to assume I won't like them or be friends with them, because I have previously stated that I hold this or that opinion. That has also happened. I apparently have quite the reputation back at one of my old churches. I voiced my opinions loud and clear, because I was among friends and they knew I loved them. Right? Ha ha.

So I am left with this fear. What do I do with it? Never voice opinions? Always sit in the back of the room? I don't think so. I used to have a voice. I was too opinionated, that much is true, and I offered advice a little too freely, but shutting down my voice entirely because I've previously made an ass of myself is not the way to go. So I shall be thinking on this fear.

And are you done with reading my introspections? Good. I am too. It's good to dive deep every once in a while, but frankly I'm exhausted by these latest dives. My next post will be all that is frivolous, pink, and cotton candy.

Thoughts. Controversial ones. You might not want to read them.

2011-02-23T19:52:00.003-06:00

Warning: I'm about to embark on a post that reveals personal beliefs and thoughts on religious and political issues. I don't frequently do this, and in fact I'm not sure it was wise, but for some reason I'm doing it tonight. You have been warned, read on at your own risk.

The Obama Administration has instructed the Justice Department to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act. I read that, and it distressed me. And I'm still trying to figure out why, which is why I'm writing it all down.

And before I go on, just know that I don't expect you to agree with me, but I do request that my right to have a differing opinion be upheld. I actually don't know if it's a right, per se, but I feel like it is one. And most people usually get upset if they aren't allowed to voice their own opinion in things, and there is the First Amendment and freedom of speech, so perhaps it is a "right". Anyway.

My thought process is thus: I've read the Bible, many times in different translations, and it says that homosexuality is a sin. I agree with that. I will hasten to add that in no way does believing that give me any right to heap abuse, mental or physical, on anyone, no matter their beliefs. The Bible is pretty clear that I don't have the right to judge anyone (matters within the Church being somewhat different, since there are instructions on how to deal with believers who are erring). I also have noted that Jesus only got angry at those who were robbing his people blind (the money-lenders! in His temple!) and that he truly loved all people. So, everyone clear? I do not agree with the Christians who shower hate instead of love. I sound like a hippie. But it was important to let you know my personal beliefs so that you understand the whole thought process.

The thought process moved on from that basic position to this: I've known several homosexuals. One of them was a good friend who helped me through an incredibly rough time. My uncle has been with the same man for longer than I've been born. This makes it impossible for me to hate, if Jesus' example wasn't enough. Doesn't change my beliefs, but they haven't been formed in ignorance. If that makes sense.

From there to here: why does the legalization of gay marriage bother me? As a Christian, this ain't my home port. Earth is not the final destination. It isn't my home. It's temporary. Why do I care? It isn't necessary for any government to uphold Christianity. It'll do just fine on its own. In fact, we were told to honor our governments and pray for our leaders, without any qualifications. "Give to Caesar's what is Caesar's", etc. What does it matter what my government does?

But before I answer that-What is marriage anyway? Was it invented by the Bible? Well yes, it was, and it said that a man would leave his family and cleave to his wife, who was a woman. And I think that's what bothers me: marriage, as defined by the Bible,which is among the oldest books written still in existence (which is well-documented, in case you're interested), is between a man and a woman.

Well ok, that's fine and dandy you say, but America is no longer a "Christian" nation. I'm not sure about that-many of our mores, from what I can tell, are Christian, and the men who founded our nation were influenced by Christianity, whether or not they themselves were Christian. But fine, let's say America isn't a Christian nation. What's wrong with letting anyone marry whom they please? Again, I'm brought back to what was the original definition of marriage (if you know of an earlier source, feel free to let me know): man and woman. And I think my issue is this: if this definition of marriage is broken, then what is the point? Why not let people marry multiple partners? What is wrong with that, if they're all consenting adults who love each other? It loses its original meaning, and therefore its original potency.

Gah I don't know. Doubtless my reasoning is faulty. What I do know is this: I feel that if our definition of marriage is changed at a national level, the repercussions will be severe. What those repercussions will be I don't know. Doom and gloom and all that. But our nation (and this is why it matters what the government does, because it represents all of us) will have taken a drastic turn.

And if you read through all of that, thanks. Both sides are pretty virulent when someone disagrees with them. I have no wish to be virulent. Neither do I have issues with civil unions. That is outside the purview of any church. And neither do I wish to be hateful. And neither would I be surprised if our readership, which is already tiny, became tinier.

Adventures in Laundering

2011-02-23T17:14:00.003-06:00

I was 18 before I washed my first load of laundry. I was working a summer camp, and since all my clothes were dirty I was standing in front of a washing machine, no detergent (is that what you call it?), and an extreme reluctance to confess I didn't know how to work it. But sometimes hard things just have to be conquered, and I asked for help. I think I was the highlight of that person's day.

When I relate that story to other people, they always respond "Lucky! My mom made me start doing my own laundry when I was three!" (Of course, I am being facetious). What can I say? My mom didn't mind doing laundry, and as long as I folded and put away my laundry she was quite content to wash it. There were several areas in which she never allowed us to help, the prime example being the yard. No one touched her yard. And she kept it beautiful.

So now we have established that I am ignorant in laundry matters. I do try and keep light and dark colors separate, but there are many occasions that I just don't care. And recently I decided to wash my new, bright green kitchen rugs with my white bathroom rugs. There was a tiny voice in my head whispering that this was a bad idea, I should wash them separately. Did I listen? No! I have more important things to do!

So when I opened my washer I discovered that I had died everything green. I do mean everything. My once-white bathroom rugs? An uneven sea green.

So I decided that I was going to rectify the situation. My white bathroom rugs were almost a lovely sea-green color-I could just wash them and those bright green rugs together again! Brilliant! This time I was careful to not include anything that I preferred being white.

So I waited, rather impatiently, for my washer-dying to finish the cycle, pulled out my former white bathroom rugs, and behold! A gorgeous, uniform, sea-green color. I am a genius.

Just don't ever ask me to do your laundry. You may not recognize the clothes that make it out.

Update on Orc happenings

2011-02-21T15:26:00.003-06:00

Update time! Ok, here goes: it's still February, I think. We're in the midst of midterms. Goodbye the end.

Not really. The real update:

We're trudging along, keeping up with schoolwork, occasionally having a social life. I got a cold last Thursday in five minutes flat. I'm not kidding. I was driving to get Damm and went from feeling perfectly fine to having a drain for a head and pain. Massive amounts of pain (if you get that reference we can be friends). I'm over the worst of it, but had to take DayQuil this morning. I'm also freaking out about the work I absolutely had to do over the weekend: it was all done in a DayQuil-induced fog.

The Orclette and Miniorc are learning to play together. The Orclette is learning how to share, and the Miniorc is learning how to take advantage of her new skill to hoard up on toys. They are full-steam ahead from morn' til night, but of course that be the way of kids.

Damm? I don't really know. If you see him can you ask him how he's doing? Currently we converse in clipped, rapid-fire conversations on the way to and from school. When we are at home we're doing homework, and any attempt on his part to converse is usually shot down by me because all my assignments revolve around thoughts and writing them down and he always stops by just when I had my breakthrough thought. And when I try to converse with him I am similarly interrupting a math-induced brain vacuum. It's fun.

So there you have it: "Finish school before you have kids: a Cautionary Tale"***.

***We love our kids and would do it again (well, Damm would. I have to think hard about it and be staring at their faces to agree:). Anyway, that's not a dig against kids. Just clarifying.

Confession

2011-02-19T12:46:00.000-06:00

I must confess I lay more on this side of things than elsewhere:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/19/opinion/19blow.html?src=me&ref=general

Taking care of the Miniorc

2011-02-15T22:08:00.002-06:00

An unprecedented event happened in our household: Miniorc was playing in the living room, then lay down. Damm then heard snoring. The Orclette was very concerned he might get cold, so she started covering him up with blankets.

By the time she was done, he looked like a little pasha.

P.S. on Bombardment

2011-02-12T22:25:00.003-06:00

I think I just posted it twice. Furthermore, when I look at the post it doesn't contain the entirety of my quiz answers. I'll have Damm take a look a that tomorrow:) My brain is turning off.

Bombardment.

2011-02-12T22:15:00.004-06:00

We've just been bulldozed with homework. Damm's ordeal began last week, mine began tonight as I received new assignments (online classes are fun that way) and realized last week was too easy. I should'v seen it coming. Why are we doing this again? Oh, right, better life for our kids and increased mental acuity.

Anyway, one of our latest quizzes for my Teaching History class was interesting. We have to answer all five questions beforehand because he gives two minutes to copy and paste your answer to the single question he asks. I spent two hours working on my answers and then less than a minute completing the quiz. Felt wrong, somehow. All questions/answers derive from "Lies My History Teacher Told Me". If you haven't read it do so, it's worth your time and effort. Disclaimer: all questions come from my teacher, not the author of "Lies" (James Loewen) and all answers come from yours truly. All errors are mine, not Loewen's:)

1. What internal debate did Lincoln struggle with? What teaching benefits are there if such information was brought into a class of 11th graders?

Lincoln struggled with the issue of race: “In life Abraham Lincoln wrestled with the race question more openly than any other president except perhaps Thomas Jefferson, and, unlike Jefferson, Lincoln’s actions sometimes matched his words.” (p.182)

The teaching benefits of recognizing Lincoln’s struggle would be enormous. Students would learn that racism wasn’t something that belonged solely to extremists but “has been ‘normal’ throughout our history.” (p.182). They would see that Lincoln’s views changed during the course of the Civil War, illustrating how a person steeped in the culture of their time could rise above it.

They would also learn that our past was not perfect. According to Loewen, textbooks avoid issues of right and wrong when it comes to our past history (p.185). Lincoln turned the Civil War into an issue of right vs. wrong, freedom vs. enslavement (p.188). Racism in America continued because the South was allowed, by the North, to rewrite history in order to assuage its conscience. How different could our history have been if the nation had been forced to accept that slavery was wrong? That monumental injustice had been done to the slaves? More importantly, after seeing how the United States failed its black citizens, students today would perhaps be able to recognize that history is causal, not static, and that decisions made today have the power to drastically affect the future.

2. Describe how the picture on page 109 contrasts with what is taught in a typical American History book.

In the picture, the white children are clinging to their “savage” adoptive parents because they are being forcibly returned to white society. Textbooks, while today avoiding calling Native Americans “savages” (p.115), still do not retreat from their white supremacist viewpoint. According to the textbooks, civilization was something we brought to the Natives, ignoring entirely that “American Indians … [were] important intellectual antecedents of our political structure” (p.113).

I grew up in Virginia. My family and I visited Jamestown, Yorktown, Colonial Williamsburg, and the various small settlement sites that populate that area regularly. We studied some of the various Native American tribes that had populated our area. Neither the historical sites nor the textbooks we studied hinted at the possibility that the Native Americans were anything but primitive peoples, something to be scared of and defended against at all costs. I never knew that the Iroquois League had requested that the colonies stop bickering and form some type of government that they could actually deal with (p.109). I had no idea that white attacks on Native Americans happened with such ferocity, or that the Indian wars had such an impact on our society (p.131). “By downplaying Indian wars, textbooks help us forget that we wrested the continent from Native Americans” (p.131). Textbooks lead students to believe that if only the Native Americans had acculturated, they would’ve been accepted into white society. As Loewen points out, “The problem was not Native failure to acculturate. In reality, many European Americans did not really want Indians to acculturate. It wasn’t in their interest.” (p.128)

By blatantly ignoring the story of the “losers” during the conquest of North America, students are led to believe a grossly distorted version of history. Native Americans are stereotyped and made into the villains, while their cultural contributions are largely ignored. One thing I have learned while studying American history is that my heritage isn’t just white. It’s an amalgamation of many cultures, and I’m proud of that. I suspect many students would be too, yet that knowledge is denied them.

3. What evidence does Loewen provide regarding anti-Black sentiment in the post-Civil War South? (I found five; give me at least two) What does EACH tell you?

One area of Reconstruction that is consistently downplayed is white violence against the former slaves. Loewen points out that “In Hinds Country, Mississippi, alone, whites killed an average of one African American a day, many of them servicemen, during Confederate Reconstruction” (p.160). Lynchings were rampant, and African Americans had no recourse (p.167). This violence, “not slavery, marked the beginnings of what some social scientists have called the ‘tangle of pathology’ in African American society.” (p.167)

The “Mississippi plan” denied African Americans citizenship in 1890 (p.163). The “separate but equal” ideology in the South (and the North as well) was a farce, which one textbook admitted: “The problem, of course, was that there really could never be such a thing as ‘separate but equal’ facilities for the two races. When any race was kept apart from another, it was deprived of its equality” (p.163). Not content with segregation, white supremacists attacked black education, burning buildings and killing the teachers (p.160).

What all of these examples tell me is that almost every aspect of Southern society was dedicated to the perpetuation of white domination. Whites felt they were the “master race” and were willing to resort to violence to maintain their precious status quo, not content with letting their legislative system back down from the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments. What is ironic is that when Hitler arose and began systematically purging any people group not belonging to his own “master race”, we condemned him while continuing our own racial domination.

4. What was the real cause of racism and trying to bring an end to it in the South during Reconstruction?

The real cause of racism was one of white supremacy and a social system built upon slave labor. “White Southerners founded the Confederacy on the ideology of white supremacy” (p.193). Alexander Stephen’s famous Cornerstone Speech proclaimed that “Our new government’s foundations are laid, its cornerstone rests, upon the great truth that the Negro is not equal to the white man, that slavery-subordination to the superior race-is his natural and normal condition” (p.193).

Reconstruction was an attempt to equalize the races, but it was not to integrate the blacks into white society. Rather, “the problem of Reconstruction was integrating Confederates, not African Americans, into the new order” (p.161). Loewen hits the point right on the nose: “As soon as the federal government stopped addressing the problem of racist whites, Reconstruction ended” (p.160). A new memory took over, that remembered the men and women who had risked their lives to work among the former slaves as “carpetbaggers” and those Southerners who belonged to the antiracist, Republican party as “scalawags”. They were shown as moving South in pursuit of wealth at the expense of the destitute South and as traitors, although “Everyone who supported black rights in the South during Reconstruction did so at personal risk” (p.201). The white supremacists would not accept that racial idealism was the prime motivator for Reconstruction (p.201).

Rather than forcing the nation to cop to its sins, as South Africa did after apartheid, the nation allowed the white supremacists to reconstruct history and poison future race relations.

5. Explain the misperceptions made about John Brown by the UDC AND in American History textbooks and why. What views did people who knew Brown have about him?

Why would a white man fight for the black man? He must be crazy. Or so textbook authors thought until recently. “ …the insanity with which historians have charged John Brown was never psychological. It was ideological. Brown’s actions made no sense to textbook writers between 1890 and about 1970. To make no sense is to be crazy” (p.177). The UDC goes further, and implied that “the slaves themselves were not sympathetic to the cause of abolition” (p.176). Poor John Brown. He was insane and the blacks for whom he fought and died couldn’t have cared less. Thus have the UDC, an instrument of colossal damage to race relations, and history textbooks warped John Brown’s legacy. The reality was quite different.

John Brown was not insane. In fact Governor Wise of Virginia “said Brown showed ‘quick and clear perception,’ ‘rational premises and consecutive reasoning,’ ‘composure and self-possession’ “ (p.176). He garnered “considerable support from enslaved African Americans around Harper’s Ferry” (p.176) and “after the raid, local African Americans continued the resistance to slavery that Brown’s raid had triggered” (p.176).

The real problem, which Brown recognized, was that “Had I so interfered in behalf of the rich, the powerful, it would have been all right” (p.178). Instead he chose to fight for a race that many of his day considered to be less than human. He willingly died for what he believed, knowing that it would have a “moral force of its own” (p.178). “As the war came, as thousands of Americans found themselves making the same commitment to face death that John Brown had made, the force of his example took on new relevance” (p.179). Thoreau compared Brown with Jesus of Nazareth (p.178), and indeed their fates are incredibly similar, which I think is how Brown wanted it to be.

Yet his powerful legacy, recognized during his own lifetime (pp.177-178), has been besmirched and trampled upon, because as the memory of the war faded no one wanted to believe that a man would die for the “racially inferior”. “Not until the civil rights movement of the 1960s was white America freed from enough of its racism to accept that a white person did not have to be crazy to die for black equality” (p.179).

Bombardment.

2011-02-12T22:15:00.002-06:00

1. What internal debate did Lincoln struggle with? What teaching benefits are there if such information was brought into a class of 11th graders?

2. Describe how the picture on page 109 contrasts with what is taught in a typical American History book.

3. What evidence does Loewen provide regarding anti-Black sentiment in the post-Civil War South? (I found five; give me at least two) What does EACH tell you?

4. What was the real cause of racism and trying to bring an end to it in the South during Reconstruction?

Reconstruction was an attempt to equalize the races, but it was not to integrate the blacks into white society. Rather, “the problem of Reconstruction was integrating Confederates, not African Americans, into the new order” (p.161). Loewen hits the point right on the nose: “As soon as the federal government stopped addressing the problem of racist whites, Reconstruction ended” (p.160). A new memory took over, that remembered the men and women who had risked their lives to work among the former slaves as “carpetbaggers” and those Southerners who belonged to the antiracist, Republican party as “scalawags”. They were shown as moving South in pursuit of wealth at the expense of the destitute South and as traitors, although “Everyone who supported black rights in the South during Reconstruction did so at personal risk” (p.201). The white supremacists would not accept that racial idealism was the prime motivator for Reconstruction (p.201).

Rather than forcing the nation to cop to its sins, as South Africa did after apartheid, the nation allowed the white supremacists to reconstruct history and poison future race relations.

5. Explain the misperceptions made about John Brown by the UDC AND in American History textbooks and why. What views did people who knew Brown have about him?

Getting ready to run.

2011-02-06T16:37:00.001-06:00

Posted from my phone....yay. short teeny min run that left me short of breath due to sand plus stroller.

Thalitha'amak (Short Character Bio)

2011-01-30T21:04:00.000-06:00

At a young age the shaman read Thalitha'amak’s fate. It was well known among his tribe. Everyone admired him for it. Everyone expected great things of him. Everyone but him. Thalitha'amak simply wanted solitude. Himself and the hills. Perhaps a nice female goliath on the other side of those hills… But certainly not any grand fate etched into his skin from birth.

So he changed it. His skin, his life, and his fate. He wrote himself a new fate and inscribed it into his skin.

The tribe was shocked. The shaman infuriated. He was shortly thereafter exiled. He walked away with no regrets following a new fate that only he knew.

Saturday Jan 30th

2011-01-30T02:32:00.003-06:00

Ran sprints today. 100m sprinting followed by 100m walking. Total of 2 miles combined with 1 mile of sprinting.

Helped pickup a basketball floor and put up a stage for my workout tonight. Yeah its light but time has been at a premium this weekend.

EDIT(realized I didn't post friday's workout):

Friday Morning did PT with ROTC. Did a mix workout circuit:

Run 50m do 20 Mountain Climbers
Run 100m do 20 pushups.
Run 150m do 20 crunches.
Run 200m do 20 squats.
Repeat
After 2nd time jog 400m
Do 20 squats.
Do 20 pushups, 20 crunches, 20 jumping jacks
Run 50m sprint.
Do 20 pushups, 20 crunches, 20 jumping jacks
Run 200m sprint.

This sounds like a lot but honestly felt less intense then the 40 min of 100m sprints we did Wednesday.

Tjrren

2011-01-30T02:29:00.003-06:00

He looks like a cross between an alley cat, a thin man, and a rat. At six foot he’s a fairly tall biped covered in brown fur with a white tigerstripe pattern, a characteristically furless rat tail bobs behind him. Brownish yellow eyes glance back and forth as he heads down the hallway to his room.

An odd looking figure at best, he is wearing a fine black vestment underneath which he is wrapped in a ghostly cloth. A plain cloak and worn gloves complementing dark leather bracers. There are two small weapons sheathed on his shoulders and a bag on his back between them. Intricately knotted and woven green vines wrap around his feet. His head is adorned with a simple tattered cloth band. A small wooden turtle hangs on a rope from his neck. Another carved wooden frog hangs from his right wrist.

Alone in his room, he checked quietly for any observers before sitting down and taking off the two wooden animals. Placing them before him he started to talk in his native tongue.

“Hey….. its me again….I failed to die at least two more times. No, I’m not cheating. I know the rules. I didn’t push too much. I just played it loose. Like we used to.

I miss you a lot. You would have laughed so hard today. I lost my head. Yeah, literally. Some dumb spell hallway as if we were in the Magic Lady’s house again. Had to be un-spelled to get it back. Also was paralyzed…just screaming there paralyzed without my head. Haha. You would have been rolling on the floor at me.

Still refuse to learn to disarm the damn traps. I don’t care how close that comes to breaking your rules… I’m not going to learn it now when it does you no good. I should have learned it back then…..then…..then you’d be able to be here laughing at me.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

I’ll catch up to you one day. Until then… I love you….”

After a long long moment of silence, he puts the wooden animals back on. Then taking out a dagger he draws two more cuts onto his tail…they heal before they have barely started to bleed but the scars stay there blending in with dozens of others.

“Two more. I’ll find you one day love….”

He sheaths the blade and stretches out on the floor under his bed. A few moments later he’s asleep.

More workout stuffs.

2011-01-27T08:59:00.003-06:00

Wednesday Jan 26th Morning

--Ran for about 30-40 min doing 100m sprints followed by 100m jogs.

Wednesday Jan 26th Evening

--115 pushups and 30 situps. I need to be doing more situps but am concerned about aggravating my hernia surgery site. No real excuse though for not doing them.

Thursday Jan 27th Morning.

--2-2.5 mile run going to happen in about 5 min.

Old School Vampires.

2011-01-27T07:19:00.003-06:00

I've read "Dracula". I've read biographies on Vlad the Impaler. I've read Anne Rice. I've read "The Historian" (which is one of my favoritest books ever). I've also read the Twilight series and Laurell K. Hamilton. So I'm fairly well acquainted with vampire lore. Ok, now that's been established, moving on.

I overheard the following discussion at B&N this past weekend. It was conducted by two lovely girls who were trying-and failing-to dress goth. "Man, they've gone too far from old-school vampires. Vampires shouldn't be all twinkly. And what's with going out in daylight? The old ones exploded when they did that!"

I've made up a bit of that, since I don't have a photographic memory, but the gist is the same. I started giggling as I overheard their conversation. I wasn't dropping no eaves, mind, I was cleaning up the kids department and they were in the same area talking loudly. I was giggling because in Stoker's "Dracula" the old-school vampire had developed the ability to go out in sunlight. The entire episode of teenage angst over modern authors departing from traditional vampire mores was incredibly funny to me. Maybe it's not to other people? I have the ability to turn a hilarious story into a dud when retelling it.

But come on, the combination of failed goth dressers, angst, drama, anger at the modern world of vampire publishing, all for the wrong reasons? Funny!

Orclette's Latest

2011-01-26T10:41:00.002-06:00

Heard while she was on the toilet:

"Momma, the poop is coming out of my left arm!"

When she is older she will no doubt be absolutely horrified that I would share this with people:)

BTW, she knows about the large and small intestines. We were at the doctor's office and there was a poster of someone's innards up on the wall. We spent a pleasant 15 minutes discussing what each part was and what its function was.

Stuff from forever ago.

2011-01-24T15:23:00.002-06:00

This was a long time ago. I look back there to remind myself how well I've improved.

http://twoandahalforcs.blogspot.com/2009/03/afpt-today.html

This was even longer ago:

http://twoandahalforcs.blogspot.com/2009/01/time.html

Jan 24th Morning.

2011-01-24T13:27:00.002-06:00

Did pyramid pushup's alternated with random ab exercises for an hour this morning as part of ROTC pt.

Sundays' have been declared rest days for PT. No PT those days.

Tonight the plan is to run for a bit.

Just for posterity I'm recording my actual goal amounts in each catagory.

Pushups

Goal:

Last Test:

Situps

Goal:

Last test:

Run:

Goal:

15:06

Last Test:

17:36

ES TAN ESPONJOSO!!!!

On life. Rambling out loud. Expect nothing great.

2011-01-22T11:52:00.003-06:00

Life passes so slowly it seems. You want to be XYZ and it takes ages just to get there. This is my biggest fundamental problem with RPG's. They set an idea for how long it takes to get to your XYZ that is completely unrealistic. And yes I realize how stupid it sounds to complain that a game's goals are unrealistically quick to achieve when compared with life goals.

Bear with me. I'm thinking out loud here.

It just seems wrong to expect goal-attaining so quickly. In the short period of life where I've been trying to seriously improve myself(say in the last 4 years), nothing ever comes quickly and when it does arrive it seems such a small goal in retrospect.

What is it about mountains that makes them seem so much smaller once you have reached their tops?

Running a mile seemed...so huge. Running two? Crazy. Passing a PT test? There was no way.

Going to Basic and AIT. Looking back if I knew then what I know now....I would have had so much fun. It really really isn't a big deal.

And now? My impossibly huge problems now? Learning passable Spanish by July. And getting 80 in every AFPT catagory for my age group(27-31).

It is the mind that is the issue maybe? When I don't think about things I do great and achieve many things. When I think too much about issues I talk myself down and fail. Well not just thinking really. More of moods.

I am either extremely positive about my chances of success and current situation or extremely negative. The negative times I've taught myself to argue with(with limited success) but I try not to accept the negative attitude/approach. Still when the swings land on tests... I struggle.

And its time for me to take Wulfa to work so I'll end this ramble here.

Friday and Saturday workouts.

2011-01-22T10:12:00.002-06:00

Friday morning was an hour of FM 21-20(I think thats the right FM). We took a long time explaining to everyone what exactly CD 1, CD 2 and the warm up/cool down consist of.

Friday afternoon I did 80 push ups and was prepared to do more when Wulfa decided it was pizza and ice cream night.

Saturday(this) Morning I went swimming for 45 min. 10 laps on what I believe is a 25m pool. 2 laps with just me. 4 laps with a foam board just kicking with my legs. 4 laps with a foam float under my legs using my arms to move.

Swimming is still weird. I still get out of a the pool completely exhausted but not quite feeling like I got a good workout.

On Swimming and other things including comma abuse.

2011-01-20T09:56:00.003-06:00

I am what is classified as a "weak" swimmer. I can just barely... with patience... do that frog like swim from one end to the other of a 25 meter pool. Then I have to rest before I try to go back.

In ACU's(the army camo uniform) I get to change it from the frog like swim to the dog paddle... and I have to stop every so often to control my breathing.

So today after our training I stayed a bit extra to put in 20 min doing laps. This consisted of a grand total of ... get ready... 4 laps. I did 2 laps(100m) with a floaty thing holding up my chest/arms and using my legs only. Then I did 2 more with a floaty thingy holding up my legs and just using my arms. Then I got out.... and tried not to throw up. Then I walked around campus and ate breakfast with Wulfa and explained loudly and repeatedly that I was very tired now and wanted to go sleepy.

My buddy, who is an experienced medic and working on his nursing degree, which I don't suppose you really needed to know but it helps paint him, oh and he's ESL but his last name really isn't and it always surprises me when he speaks Spanish, on and ESL isn't me dogging him its to explain that he's ridiculously fluent in both, and anyways... he was doing 210-220 like me before last semester and in combination with his other workouts he added two days swimming laps and was up at 270 before he tried to wreck a moving car with his chest, he's okay though don't worry, the car drove off though, yeah anyways....

The point is SWIMMING IS HARD.

The other point is... its fun and you don't stink like sweat afterwards.

The other other point is... you don't feel like you are killing yourself because you are too distracted by the copious amounts of chlorine water that you are trying to breath because you can't efficiently keep your mouth up high.

I haven't played WoW this week at all. Too much to do. Spent this last weekend getting my passport updated and doing online training for stuff. Now I'm slightly behind on homework because I also spent all day tuesday skipping class on the passport stuff. Fortunately one of my classes was just a review of binary, hex, octal in preperation for machine level junk later. My other class the teacher hates computers so I really don't know what I missed.

OH THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!

But not as urgent as my letters made it seem.

I need/want to pick a masters degree to start doing in 2014... it has to be doable completely online and needs to complement an Electrical Engineering degree. The reason for this is that I plan to go career army and expect that like most army types I'll be moving at least every two years with deployments regularly. So I don't imagine I will really have an opportunity to get my masters via regular classes. And I don't want to just swap over to a non-engineering field. Anyways, its a bit early but I like to plan way ahead so I can change my mind a few times before hand. The only thoughts I had for this was a Masters in Mathmatics or a place like this but I know a few of you are engineers and might have better suggestions.

Right now I'm not far enough along to really pick a specialty that I'm interested(aka Power, or optics or what have you).

Thursday Jan 20th Morning && Wednesday Jan 19th Evening

2011-01-20T05:32:00.003-06:00

Wednesday Jan 19th Evening

Didn't work out. The xbox died and I spent the evening getting a new one for Wulfa to watch netflix on. Three red lights in a pretty little ring. Had to wakeup early or would have done a very late run.

Thursday Jan 20th Morning

Doing water training/swimming today with ROTC. Yay for swimming in ACU's.

Tuesday Jan 18th Evening && Wednesday Jan 19th Morning

2011-01-19T13:42:00.002-06:00

Tuesday Jan 18th Evening
Half mile walk. Resting for PT test next morning.

Wednesday Jan 19th Morning
PT Test. 48 pushups 49 situps 16:30? 2mile run. Haven't verified time yet.

I just thought you should know.

2011-01-19T10:51:00.002-06:00

This morning the Miniwolf undid his poopy diaper and sat down on me.

That is all.