Bryce's Musical Talent

We have a lot of musical talent in our family: Todd plays some guitar, Allie plays guitar, keyboard and cello (and anything else you put in front of her), Zane plays the trumpet and some drums. Bryce is only beginning to develop his talent. As for The Cuteness Factor, he's already got that down.



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Late Christmas Review

My computer and printer (where I plug in my SD card to upload photos) have been glitchy for about a month, so I never got Christmas posted. This morning I fixed that. I considered not putting pix on here, since they're so late, but then remembered this is my journal and the only history of our family that exists in writing, so here it is! Merry Christmas!

Check out Bryce's face, LOL! At first, he was like, "Why did you drag me out of bed to rip paper off boxes?"

Then he realized there were fun toys inside, so he woke up and got into it :o)

Allie and Zane got a laptop from their dad, so they got to video conference with him. Here's Allie showing him her new Flip video:

Allie and Zane on Skype with their dad in Virginia:

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I Just Can't Help My Hello Kitty Obsession

Because Hello Kitty is so darn cute (and she has no mouth, so you don't have to feed her, and therefore she doesn't poop, so what's not to love?)! I fell in love with HK while stationed in Japan (from 1990-1992). My friend Ashlie posted a picture of a very cool Hello Kitty car on facebook this morning, and just now I found this:

which makes me want to fly only on Hello Kitty planes in the future. April? Can we arrange that for our trip to Ukraine? Prolly not, huh?

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Brainstorm With Me, People

So I quit my job at the end of November because Bryce wouldn't let me get anything done (plus my computer wasn't cooperating). (It was a part-time, at-home job). It was just too frustrating to try to do. Plus, it was boring (sorry, my boss people, I love you all). And stressful. And I don't do stressful very well.

But now, even though it wasn't much money, I am definitely missing it. Missing it to the tune of "can't do my Russian lessons anymore." And that's not good for me. And if it's not good for me, it's probably not good for the entire world.

So, help me think.

I need a job that I LOVE so that I won't get burned out. And I have to be able to do it from home. And it has to pay enough to make some sort of difference in our lives.

Ideas?


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The Birth of a New Breed of Harriers

I introduce you to

The Virgin Hash House Harriers of the East Valley (and Beyond!)

On! On!



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How to Save a Life

"Step one, you say 'we need to talk', he walks, you say 'sit down, it's just a talk....' (The Fray)

So I get a phone call at 6 a.m. from a friend in another city, in another state, who is drunk--very drunk and we start talking. I want to talk about why he's so drunk at 5 a.m. (his time). We go into issues, talk about loving yourself, all that.

Then he tells me he's just taken 50 mg. of Ambien on top of all that alcohol. I don't know much about Ambien so I call Poison Control. They tell me he can go to sleep and stop breathing and that I need to call an ambulance for my friend.

My heart sinks.

I tell my friend this news and he begs me not to.

But what choice do I have?

So I call for help, in another city, in another state. I tell them who I am and for whom I'm calling and what the situation is.

I tell my friend that my rescue friends are coming over just to check on him.

He tells me he doesn't want to go to the medical center...again.

I tell him I'm sorry. I hope he won't hate me. Or hold it against me.

But at least he will be around to do so.


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Seeking Harriers

I'm not sure how to do this, but I want to start my own Hash House Harriers group...sans alcohol.

Scratching your head asking, "What's a Hash House Harrier?"

It's a group of drinkers with a running problem.

Only I and most of my friends don't drink alcohol, so I'm thinking maybe we could replace the alcohol with chocolate? Or something else for Tiff...let's see...how about the Harriers Who Run for Virgin Coladas?

Okay, that's going to take some thinking, and I can see that you're still sitting there wondering what the heck is a Hash House Harrier.

It goes a little something like this:

You get a group of people whom we will now call "Hounds." But one person is the Hare who plans out and lays a trail with flour in advance of the event. The hounds then have to track down the hare by following the trail of flour. The trail breaks off here and there, and the hounds all sniff around for it. Once it's found, the finder yells out, "ON! ON!" And the chase continues.

At random points throughout the trail, a cooler of beer is found and consumed by the hounds. Here's where we have to figure out what to put in the cooler...it can be a complete surprise....Hare's choice! Or just a marker or something...anything!

After the race, everyone converges on a spot (a restaurant, a house, a park) and eats and drinks more of something other than beer, in our case.

I ran with harriers in Charlottesville, VA. It was SO FUN! And a fun way to get in some exercise.

Who's with me?


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The Ongoing Saga With Mommy Dearest

So remember how, when she received my birthday and Christmas gifts in the mail, opened them, and told me she was, "Mighty disappointed," among other unpleasantries? And how I cried like a ridiculous baby for 2 days while trying to pull the dagger out of my heart?

I called her this morning just to chat. Why? I have no idea. I still cling to the outrageously ridiculous hope that she will one day wake up and be a good, loving mother.

So she informs me that she's going to send the candy back that I had sent with the other gifts. I say fine. She tells me my brother told her that would be rude. I let out a clipped laugh.

Then it just comes out in a stream of tears and pain. I tell her how her reaction to our gifts was beyond rude, it was hurtful. I schooled her on the proper etiquette for graciously accepting a heartfelt gift, even if you were "mighty disappointed" by it. All the while, I'm choking back tears.

Her reaction?

She hung up on me.

And so here I sit, once again a wounded little child, swearing I will NEVER,

NOT EVER

call her again.

But of course I will, because I see all the other mothers in the world, who are not perfect, but who TRY and who love their kids and I wanna be one of those kids. I'll get my hopes up. I'll call. She will destroy me. I will let her.

It's a vicious cycle. I just want off this ride.


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