What are you?
| Your Linguistic Profile: |
| 55% General American English |
| 20% Yankee |
| 15% Upper Midwestern |
| 5% Midwestern |
| 0% Dixie |
I took a linguistics class in college. I loved it. The highlight being that I learned to write messages to my roommates on the message board using all the phonetic sounds and symbols. I am sure they were very appreciative.
This post contains actual swear words, not derivatives of or rhyming words, but ACTUAL swear words.
A friend came over today to teach me to clean. The bathroom is nice and clean and now there are cheerios and popcorn smashed on every other surface. Her daughter spilled baking soda in me bed. Her son hit Gentry and my friend did nothing about it. Gentry cried the entire time. Her daughter sucked on both our toothbrushes. I cannot find anything because everything has been rearranged. No one bled blood though.
To this, jj replied:
Doc: Well, bring her along. This concerns her too.
Marty: Wait a minute, Doc. What are you talking about? What happens to us in the future? What do we become assholes or something?
Doc: No no no no no, Marty, both you and Jennifer turn out fine. It’s
your kids, Marty, something has got to be done about your kids.
I think it finally sunk into today, as the boy went flying from his stroller onto the ground smacking his elbow and forehead on the sidewalk, that I am the mother of a rough and tumble little boy. And that yesterday was probably not our last trip to the emergency room. Since it was his second for the year I am hoping it is the last for the year, or at least a little while.
Here’s to having little boys and Elmo band aids making things better.
Don’t touch that it is VERY fragile. Put that back. Put it back. Put it down. Don’t throw things. Don’t throw them at me. Stop running. Don’t hit me. Don’t hit the wall. Don’t hit.
Get the screwdriver out of your nose. Where did you get a screwdriver? You may not have a screwdriver with your big plate of air for lunch. Where did you get a screwdriver, I thought I put it away with the handgun and the machete. If you eat lunch, I will let you play with a screwdriver or possibly a small hand held rake or a really sharp knife. Those are the best sort of bribes, the ones with a little danger involved.
Done with dinner. Fine. Go play with your toys. The big plate of air has given him a jump in energy and he starts his evening of swimming laps in the kitchen. That is where the longest stretch of virgin terrain exists.
As I am about to leave for my very favorite book club, the club that I faithfully attend. He falls and splits his lip open and gets a bloody nose. His lip swells to a quarter the size of his head and there is blood. The kind of blood that makes me a little woozy and the kind that we don’t like to get on the carpet.
What is that you say? You have a dagger in your heart? Well get off the carpet, I am not going to be paying THAT carpet cleaning bill.
A series of calls ensue to mothers, doctors and ask a nurse; which I really appreciate being there at all hours of the day to ask my first time mother insane questions of. Does he need stitches? Of course no one knows with out having a look at him and so we head up to Primary Children’s Medical Center. Where they tell us that they don’t put stitches in the mouth unless you have bitten off your tongue or only bitten it off half way. This is good to know.
We head home with the most expensive sprite, stickers and neosporin samples on the planet. For the rest of the night we should be safe. Maybe he is hiding the screwdrivers in his bed.
I never feel like I am in an exotic local. I usually feel like Utah, blaaaaaaaaah. Why on Earth if you were living any where else, Why would you come here?
Then I am reminded of the beauty that I live in.
I love waking up and seeing the suns rays shooting over the mountains into the clouds.
I love how you can smell winter coming and feel crispness in the air before fall actually arrives.
I love the way everything, almost over night, turns from icky gray and sludge to green grass and peaking new tulips.
I love being so close to the mountains I can run in them, they are that close to me.
I love the way the sun shines and warms me.
So Italy and Japan and Hawaii are all exotic to me, but I love where I am. I like returning to my home and to the comfort I have always known. I am surrounded by beauty and most days I forget.
I found some old journals over the weekend. It reminded me of my old sexcapades, and by sexcapades I mean, there was none. But I did talk about each and every boy that I ever dated and kissed. I am really embarrassed by them and considering throwing them away. I don’t want my kids to find these and realize what a hussy I was, and by hussy I mean hussy. Dang it.
I also found them incredibly irresistible reads. I could not put them down. I was truly fascinated by my old self and the person that I was. There were also times that I was so depressed. It made me sad for that person.
You know e.e.cummings, this was my sad attempt at poetry. I think it was very telling.
There were journal entries from when I was a child. It made me want to be a better parent. I want to be remembered well.
:: black cherry floats :: 
:: watching Alice in Wonderland :: memories of Disneyland flooding my mind and heart :: the sights, sounds and smells ::
:: cuddling :: with big boys and little boys ::
:: remembering everyday is precious :: taking care of my boys ::
:: watching small guys get big ::
:: taking a stand :: even if no one but me notices ::
I work out everyday except Sunday, and even then I try to get a walk in.
This is how it works. jj gets up at 7:00 and works out. I get up and 6:30 and read and go potty. When he gets home on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday I go work out at the local gym. When I get home he leaves for work. On Tuesday and Friday I do the video Slim Physique
I Want That Body.
On Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I do these workouts. I rotate. I ripped these out of Self Magazine a few years ago and have been doing them for about a year. I am impressed with how I look, if you can call it that. I don’t like my rear, I have flabbish arms. I have a hard time controlling the intake of food, but I feel like I am really fit and I am proud of what I look like. I would wear a bikini to the splash pool if I had the guts to be seen in one.
Playing trains. Notice King Tut in the lower corner.
My, my, my. Who do we have here? This guy looks so much like my HOA president, we have named him to match and Gentry now calls him his name.
