Quotable.....

I started this post in February of this year. I got a little distracted. 

What is it about some people that we find them so quotable?

For instance:

"The first requisite of success is the
ability to apply your physical and
mental energies to one problem
without growing weary."
- Thomas Edison

"Unless you try to do something beyond
what you have already mastered,
you will never grow."
- Ronald E. Osborn


My personal favorite quotes come from people I know:

Well, now that I know I don't have to tip I just may start having 85 pound little girls help me load my car. ~Fifi

or

Now I'm experiencing mid-life crisis and everything is by the freakin' book. ~Fifi

or then there is this that really speaks to me:

It would have been perfect for this post but even though, I am a mommy blogger, I have to draw the line somewhere. I think that its making my kids wait while they are in pain for me to get a picture is where I am going to draw it.
For now. ~ Jen

And then there is this:

-- Mike is always telling me I'm not allowed to use quotation marks all willy nilly -- that I must be sure I am truly quoting. Of course I say, "Bah" to that, but I figured I would take a moment here to clear myself of any and all future quotation mark abuse. ~Nancy

Channelling Helen Par

Disclaimer: All right, all right. I know it has been a long time. I thought I could blog about the whole infertility thing. Turns out, it bores me to blog about it. (Not to mention, zaps my creative energy.)  The topic still interests me and if I happen to figure it out, you all will be some of the first to know. With that out of the way.....

What I am wanting to know is........when you tell your spouse you have been thinking, does it mean work for them? (Please say yes. I would really hate to be alone on this one.) It seems that every time I speak to the RS lately, "I've been thinking" comes flying out of my mouth. Which roughly translates to I just doubled your "honey do list." I feel a certain amount of guilt over this. Nobody wants a list a mile long, but friends, we have been in this house now almost 4 years. I am ready to finish moving in. What you say?.....still not moved in. For my fellow parent's out there who have seen Disney Pixar's "The Incredibles" a bazillion times, it is kind of like where Helen calls Bob at work and tells him, they have finally moved in, because she has finally unpacked the last box. Even though they have been the house for some time. I feel that way or I mean, I want to feel that way. I am so ready for everything to be put away. Boxes emptied. Everything with a place and in it. Of course, putting things away, requires some painting and hanging and building and moving of pianos and climbing very tall ladders for this week. Next week will probably include a trip to Ikea and some assembling and moving of things and lifting heavy things and hanging some things. 

Now is the time for you  to come clean. Do you torture the one you love with a list that would make even you shudder? Please tell me that I am not alone.

Until I make here again.......Karen

I Smell Like a Cow......

I don't know about your house, but at my house there are sea monkeys that get songs stuck in their sweet little heads. When that happens, of course they are kind enough to sing it over and over and over, well you get the point.

Courtesy of the Wild Child, the song of the day is Hungry Like the Wolf, by Duran Duran. The lyrics however, will be sung like this. "I smell cow, I'm lost and found and coming after shoes. I smell like a cow, I'm lost and I'm found and I'm hungry like the Wolf".

No need to thank the Wild Child for these new lyrics that will no doubt be stuck the same way in your head. I am sure given a few more days, she will find something to replace it.

We meet again....

Based on how I feel today, I am pretty sure there in nothing cooking in my oven. Well other than a toxic combination of hormones resembling a raging case of PMS. No matter how this month turned out, I was going to be happy and sad. Happy to have more time to improve my health and possibly have a quick family vacation to the Happiest Place on Earth. Sad that, once again, I have failed to figure out how to get pregnant. Sometimes I wonder if it's more about the failing and less about being pregnant. Then I realize there is some part of me that feels gypped to not have experienced this uniquely female adventure.

Those of you who know me well, know that I lean towards the natural side of medicine. There is a long list of reasons why, but I am not going to get into that today and not likely here anyway. A little disclaimer here though, I am not anti-modern medicine. I believe it has its place and does a lot of good. Back to the topic at hand. I am working on the natural route first. This being because the Rocket Scientist is looking for new employment and we all know how medical insurance can change drastically from one employer to another. So, natural is a good place to start. I have been reading a few books and doing some research. It is believed that I have PCOS. To my understanding the only way to confirm this is with actual pictures of cysts on ovaries. I believe I have enough symptoms that I am just going to assume that is part of the problem.

So, I have been reading about Qi and herbs and the evils of microwave ovens. Seriously....sometimes I wonder if people honestly can do what they write. I am just sayin'. All that said, I think I will try a total body cleanse this coming week, walking for an hour everyday and buying organic as much as possible. That is about as much as I am willing to commit to this week. I still plan to use my microwave to reheat leftovers and use my shower with out a water filter and only sleeping 7 hours at night. (I just haven't figured out how to get one more hour in.)

In the past few days, I have also learned that there are some medications that may be interfering with the goal at hand. So that will need to be addressed.

I'm wondering, for those of you who have struggled with getting pregnant, did it consume your thoughts? It is absurd to me that it is the first thing on my mind in the morning, the thing I dream about, the thing all conversations lead to......? Really, I wouldn't mind thinking about something else.

Thank you.

I have been wracking my brain to come up with a clever way to say, "thank you" and that my friend, "Red", rocks!!! Sad to say, I have nothing. Red found the missing hearing aid and relief can be felt for miles around us. Thank you for your prayers. They are much appreciated.

HELLLOOO, where were you made and other randomness?

The other morning while I was straightening the Wild Child's hair, I notice that she continually is admiring herself in the mirror. I reflect back to when she was a baby and people would stop me and tell me she was the most beautiful baby they had ever seen. In fact her dad, the Rocket Scientist, has mentioned from time to time that her beautiful china doll face never leads one to believe how calculating and feral she really is. Suddenly the Wild Child makes eye contact with me in the mirror and says, "Mom, it looks like I am made in China.."When we load in the mini-van to take the kids anywhere, I holler, "Seat belt check." If the Sea Monkeys have their seat belts on, they holler back, "CHECK." This has been working really well, since then I don't have to question them one-by-one to see who has their seat belts on and who we are waiting for. Yesterday morning, I forget to yell "Seat belt check." The Little Jamaican was not having a change in the routine. She starts yelling, "Check!", from the back of the mini-van and continues to yell it at me until I acknowledge that she has her seat belt on AND say, "Seat belt check." This is when I realize that the 1st One is growing up. "Little Jamaican, the seat belt check is getting really old.", I hear her say. She speaks of it as if it is a catch phrase uttered way past it's time. Next thing you know, I will be embarrassing her with out trying. Oh.....wait, I already do that. She was mortified when I forgot to put on a certain piece of support wear to drive her to school last week. She told me to zip up my coat so no would notice. She kept reminding me that I didn't need to get out of the car. Like I wanted to....It was 24 F.

The Little Jamaican wanted to go out and jump on the trampoline. I am fine with that, I just wanted her to put some clothes on since she was wearing her a "cheerleader" skirt and shirt. When I reminded her she needed on something more than she was wearing, she responded with, "HEEELLLLLOOOOO, Why do you think I am wearing this?" Ya, I'm not sure this is the tone I want to hear from my 5 year old. "Heeellllooooo, it's below freezing out there. Put on your snow pants and a coat." Oh, wait, that isn't actually teaching her to speak respectfully. "Hey, I was thinking that maybe you would put on your snow pants and a coat."
In the past few months, we discovered that My Son has some permanent hearing loss. It is suspect that it is congenital. Strangely, this bit of information brought a thrill of excitement around here. Truly a blessing to find something that, when corrected, would make a huge difference for him. The day he got his hearing aids, his voice level was half as loud. You could see that he was hearing some things for the first time. There was much joy and celebration in our home. The only down side to all of that is.......he is a little boy.......which in this case, translates to one of them is already missing. At $1250.00 a piece used, they are not easy or economical to replace. We have torn the house apart looking for it, scoured the school, harrassed the local library and friends, and actually cleaned out the dumpster on wheels (a.k.a. mini-van). Amazing how in a short period of time there are so many variables of where that missing hearing aid could be. Anyway, if you all wouldn't mind, say a little prayer for the wayward hearing aide to show up. Thank you.

Misread....

I first have to say thank you to you all for your words of encouragement. It means more to me than I am able to express.

I was under the impression that the Rocket Scientist was on the same page as me. Now I am wondering how I could have mistaken being male with being on board. I have a cold. It isn't horrid, but it's not comfortable and well I did manage to ovulate all on my own this month. Naturally, we "tried" to get "knocked up." This brings me to, I want to take some medicine for this said cold, but won't risk it on the off chance we actually succeeded. We won't really know for about another week. I am really not counting on succeeding already, but I am not willing to play "Russian Roulette" either. So I am lamenting this dilemma to the Rocket Scientist, which really isn't a dilemma, I already know I am not going to take anything. I just wanted someone to agree with me. Being that he is a "Rocket Scientist" and not a "Woman Scientist" and certainly not an "engineer," this is what he says to me. "Or you can quit trying to get pregnant." (You know I had finally quit being mad 'til I just typed it. ARGH!) Clearly, I mis-read his cooperation in this little exercise.

As my editor was "editing," he mentions that I took the quote out of context. He said he was merely pointing out that everything is a trade off. (My poor keyboard was taking some abuse.) I'll let him off the hook this time.......next time though, I would remind you that you are dealing with a woman with fluctuating hormones. There is no telling how I will take such obvious, logical information.

I love you, RS. Always.....

Things to come.....

I really am struggling to keep my blog up these days. I have thoughts that I want to put there, yet, there is some fear about doing that. You see when I speak, I rarely have time to think through whether or not I am going to offend someone, but when I write.....well I have way too much time to over think it. Speaking of which, if I have offended you, I am sorry. It was never my intent.

I turned 38 recently and I am re-examining my life. I think that is common for mid-life. So maybe this is part of MY mid-life crisis. I am forming new opinions on things rapidly and changing my perspective on things I have only seen one way for decades. Knowing all this also makes me reluctant to put it all out there. If I were naturally funny, it would be easier. However, I am not. The things that happen around me are what is funny in my life. (My sense of humor is intact.)

So I have decided that without a doubt, I am going to try and have a biological child. Here is where the wording is going to get tricky.......I am not attached to the outcome. It is the trying, err...the effort,......eh.......where is the right word........that I am attached to. (You see what I am saying?) Yes, I want more children, but they don't have to be biological. I have never NEEDED them to be biological. So I am sure you are now asking why would I try for a biological child then. As it turns out, I am not a fan of regret. Nope.....not a fan at all. I am worried that when I am 80 I will look back and REGRET not trying or giving it an honest, no holds barred, try to get pregnant.

So here's the thing, I really would like to blog about this. It is going to be tricky. It is such an emotional, tricky, personal subject, but I want a record of it, and I think it couldn't hurt to have a few outside glimpses of what I am embarking on. So, I will try to be respectful and pleasant and all I ask is please try not to judge me for the wacky thoughts I have or the things I try.

So here is where I am starting. I have recently lost about 30 pounds. It is a good start, but another 50 to 70 would be helpful I am certain. In the mean time I have been reading a few books on the subject. Let's just say that I have been learning things about the female body and the way it works that no one, and I really mean no one, should have to know. One of the authors opinions was that one way, out of about a million, to improve your fertility is to never leave the house with wet hair and always wear a hat when it's cold outside. This should be interesting.......

"H-horange"

The the other day, we were doing some of this and loving it.


My Son starts tugging on my coat and keeps telling me, "Ook, its h-horange. Ook Mom. OOK!" Turning to see what he is pointing to, I see this:

I Can't Make This Stuff Up.

I will try to approach this subject with finesse and humor. In no way am I intending to offend anyone. (especially my proof reader)

Let's say I know of this couple. If you knew them, you would think that they were madly in love and you would be right. You would also be likely to think that they are living happily ever after. You would be mostly right.

So this couple has a few kids. They are in their late 30's. So the likelihood of what I am about to tell you goes up a bit. You see the man in this relationship has a job that he is not happy in. He has also decided that he is not sure about his chosen profession in general.

So the man and woman are in their kitchen one night after their children are in bed. The wife had removed some pork chops from the freezer the day before and put them in the refrigerator to defrost. Not thinking, the wife did not put a plate under the defrosting offender. There a was a fairly slimy mess that had to be dealt with. The husband is the one to discover this mess. Being that he is the sweetest man to walk the planet, he begins to clean it up with out complaint or ridicule of the wife who so thoughtlessly ruined a fair amount of fruit. Certainly the wife will not allow the husband to clean up her mess alone.

As she begins to help, she notices some clementines on the counter and asks if they were in the drawer that was contaminated. The man responds with, "yes." Any smart wife would have just tossed them.....but not this wife......she begins to check them. It seems that a few of them may have missed the mess since they were in the front of the drawer and on top of the bag. Contemplating that there may be a way to salvage a few of these clementines she asks her husband his opinion. He responds with a very non-committal answer. This is a sore spot with the wife. She tells him he is such an "engineer" that he will not give a definitive answer on such a simple question. To which he responds with something that had the terms, "variables and outliers" in it and something to do with he "gives enough information that someone ought to be able to come to the conclusion on their own." To which the woman responds with, "Can you just give me a definitive answer?" Now the husband is getting a bit irritated. So the wife tosses out the clementines. As the conversation continues, the husband tells the wife to go, he will finish the job. Clearly he is angry. He states somewhere in this discussion that he doesn't like it when he is called an engineer. This of course hits a funny bone with his wife since she has seen his business cards which clearly state he is a specific type of engineer. At first the wife is just snickering, but then, as the whole thing continues to play out in her head, the full-on "cackle," as the husband puts it, comes spilling out.

The wife goes upstairs and washes her face and puts on her PJ's. She can now hear that he has finished cleaning up the mess. The husband makes no attempt to come up to bed even though it is late. Slightly irritated the wife crawls into bed. A few hours later the "non-engineer" makes his way up to bed. The husband is typically the type to be very careful not to wake the sleeping, but not this night. So the wife is awakened. She lays there trying to go back to sleep. Sleep will not come. She finally decides it would be a good idea to climb into the guest bedroom bed and read the letters from when they were dating. The hope was to find reminders as to why she thought this relationship would be a good idea. Would you believe that the first TEN letters read infuriated her more. There was a lot of indefinite-ness in them, at which point, the husband walks into the guest bedroom. He reiterates what was discussed earlier. When he is finished, he asks what he should do now. She suggests he go back to bed and get some sleep. He goes back bed. The wife picks up the eleventh letter and is instantly reminded why she committed to this man. His words, "You are so beautiful. I see your face everywhere. It's in my mind. I look at your pictures as often as I can. None of them do you justice. You have so much grace and class it's unbelievable. I know to you this doesn't seem like anything, but if you knew how it makes me feel inside you'd see a whole side of you that you didn't know existed. I love you." So when the husband came back into the guest bedroom a few minutes later and requested that the wife come sleep next to him so he could sleep, she responded with, "In just a minute. I'll be right there." See, mostly happily ever after.

This should be the end of this post, but the stuff just kept coming. So few days later, the wife is sitting in bed checking e-mail and facebook before going to sleep. As she finishes up she looks over and realizes that the man she married is, and has been, working on something quite intently for a while and is showing no signs of letting up anytime soon. Curious, she asks what he is doing. He responds with all the football teams he has picked to win in college bowls have won. He continues to tell her he is making an algorithm to help him pick the rest of his teams. Remembering the conversation from a few nights before, the wife quietly chuckles to herself. She softly tells him he is making it really hard on her.

A few days after that, one of the couple's children has drawn a picture that so far had included three people. The daughter asks her mother if she knew who the people were. Before the mom could answer, the non-engineer in his mid-life crisis, answers and says, "Is this you and your sisters?" To which the daughter burst out in tears and wails, "I'm not half bald! That's you!"

Like I said, I can't make this stuff up.

Overheard Wednesday

~ "Mom, some of the of leaves that have changed colors on the trees are the same color as diarrhea."
~ "Oh man......it's a clift hanger!," said at the end of her favorite show.

What Are You Looking At?

I have gotten to the point that, if I am going to continue to blog, I need a new look. I know there are people for these sorts of things. I would love any and all suggestions, as well as some referrals, to people who might be able to help me. Blog-wise, that is. (Please don't send me numbers to the local therapist. I will ask for those numbers and referrals in a different post.)

As I listen to my children squabble, I begin to wonder if all children come wired with the same faulty programming that requires them to whine, cry, and throw tantrums over a sibling gazing in their direction. I remember as a child, sitting at the table for breakfast, building a fort around my cereal bowl with cereal boxes, because Kaylene, my sister, was either looking at me or my cereal. I know.........the gall of some people. I still clearly remember my annoyance! Humph! Thinking about it still sorta ticks me off. OK, it might be time for you to give me those other numbers now. Back to the topic at hand......You know, my children will actually throw punches over a sibling looking at them. With four kids in the house, there is a good chance, somebody is going to look at you. Since my children are not biological, I am assuming it is not my genetics, and, well, Kaylene doesn't live with us, so I am assuming that it is not environmental. I am going with the faulty wiring theory.

Let's sum up. I need a new look for my blog, and I don't even care if you are looking at me.

Overheard Wednesday

The title is self explanatory. I really don't want to forget all the cute funny things the Sea Monkeys say, so I am going to record them here. I hear too many things during the week to give each of them their own story, not to mention I would bore you all to tears.

Wild Child says
~"Dad, we found a dead mouse in the lawn at school, but I didn't eat it."
~said in her bed time prayers, "Please help me to get strong enough to crush dad."
~"WBU when you could be you?" She thinks this is hilarious

Little Jamaican
~"Grandma, why does your face always look like that?"
~"Knock, knock" Little Jamaican
Me, "Whose there?"
Little Jamaican, "Banana."
Me, "Banana who?"
Little Jamaican, "Banana butt cheeks." Don't ask me. I don't know. I think we need to find more appropriate knock-knock jokes.

My Son
~"I wanna be da bad guy."

The 1st One
~"I have two words. N-O!"

Swingin' moods

As I am uploading pictures from my camera yesterday, I came across these:






These are from a day we went out to Promontory to see a static fire. As I look through them, I notice the expressions and can't help but think about this:

Who's coming over?

Everyday, I get up and suggest to my family that WE need to get the house picked up and cleaned. Everyday, they act as if this is some new form of torture that I have invented to make their lives hellish. What I don't understand is how this is a new concept to them every single day. How they don't get (after years of me telling them, showing them, and reminding them) where the dirty clothes go, where the toys go, and where the trash goes.

Then there are the books. Books are becoming a love-hate type of thing in my house. The 1st One is always reading. Good if you are also willing to help with other stuff and not reading all night instead of sleeping. My Son has two books he wants read over and over and over again. I am so tired of reading about Star Wars I could cry. What is worse, I get to hear the epic battle played out again and again in his bed at night. For an hour you can hear battle cries, clashes, and, my all time favorite, "OH NOOOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH! HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEE! AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Wild Child will cry for hours if she can not find the book she is looking for and will cry for days if the book she is looking for is in the possession of a sibling. Which brings me to the Little Jamaican.... Oh, that girl! She loves books. I am not sure how the books feel about her. If she would just read them and look at them we would be in good shape, but she likes to build with them, make them into blankets to sleep under at night (don't get me started with that), she likes to draw/color in them, and occasionally remove an offending page from the book. (Sorry I got off on a tangent here.) So the books get left out all over the house.

I would really like to understand what happens in my bathrooms. The combination of paper, water, hair products, and whatever else is in there could seriously cause the EPA to make me placard my bathrooms with signs such as this.
However, the part that has me most perplexed is this. Everyday when I say we are going to pick-up and/or clean the house, the response is always the same. They always ask, "Who's coming over?" They seem to be under the impression that we only need a clean house if we are having guests over. In their defense, I become much more adamant about the task-at-hand when we are expecting people over, but certainly a woman could desire to walk through her living room with out threat to her feet or use a toilet in her own home without having to hover.

So today is no different, I am off to get this place cleaned before we have guests. I am assuming they would rather not hover.

Unfulfilled Expectations

While attending the family ward for the area I lived in, I was invited by the bishop to attend the singles' ward. If you aren't LDS, wards are where areas are divided up into congregations. I really had no desire to attend but decided to give it a try. There was a chance I would meet some people I would like and maybe I would enjoy the change of scenery. So...I decided to go one Sunday.

Sacrament meeting was fine, though a little strange since there were no babies crying, no kids fighting over crayons in loud whispers, no mommies or daddies standing in the back rocking a child, or all the other things that were so comforting to me about a family ward. The family ward had all the right sounds as far as I was concerned.

I remember nothing of Sunday School that day, but in Relief Society (women's organization within the church), was a lesson I will never forget. The topic was on "Unfulfilled Expectations." Truth is, we all go through this in our lives. We all have times that we expect things will go one way and they go another. Learning to deal with these with faith and grace is something most of us desire. Did I mention I was 21? That is an important piece of information in this story. At this point in my life I had had my fair share of disappointment, not more than most, just the average amount. There was much for me take from this lesson until it turned into something else all together.

As there were many women in this Relief Society approaching 30, the lesson turned into "Why am I not married?" At 21, I knew why I wasn't married. It was because I didn't want to be yet. Besides that, I had to wait till I was 22 to meet Prince Charming. Though now, with maturity, I can clearly see why, within my religion's culture, that would put some into a certain amount of distress. At the time, I could not wait to get out of there. I had a whole life ahead of me filled with twists and turns and accomplishments and, yes, unfulfilled expectations. I had plenty of time to find the person I wanted to build my forever with.

Which brings me to this.......I will be 38 in January. I am OK with that. (Well mostly) Maybe I am having a mini mid-life crisis. The doctor whom I renamed suggested that I had 'til 40 to try and have biological children. After that, he said we are pretty much done. So now I am wondering, if I think I am happy just having the 4 beautiful, amazing, though somewhat feral children, or will I later find myself with unfulfilled expectations? If I have another one or two will it be more than I can handle? Is it worth all the heartache and the emotional roller coaster that is the treatment for infertility? Will I regret not trying everything under the sun to get pregnant? Will I be OK not knowing what might have been? I have children, so I fulfilled that expectation, but still, all the other questions I don't have answers for, threaten my peace of mind.

So my real problem is this: I am fence sitting. With things like this, taking no action and not making a choice almost always leads to Unfulfilled Expectations. You are left feeling like you had no control in the situation or you had control and forfeited said control. I want to make a choice, and know that I made the right one, so that I don't look back with regrets.

So, there you have it. My unwelcomed deep thoughts for the day. I was hoping for a light and funny post, but this is what came pouring out. Huh.......

Perspective.......

What am I teaching them?

Tonight we went out for ice cream cones at McD's as a family. Now this particular location is the nicest I have ever been in and has service that out does most other restaurants in the area. As we are sitting there in the dining area eating our ice cream cones, Fox News is going on all the TV's. There is coverage on Obama's comments to Iran; there are comments on school children singing praises to Obama; and lots and lots of other Obama stuff from the panel of commentators they have on. I think my children are not even paying attention. Then I hear the Wild Child say, "Hey, I think that was President Obama." Wondering what she was thinking relative to that, I asked her what she thought about President Obama. Her very certain reply, "Obama is just like Satan." "What? Why would you say that Wild Child?" I ask as I look around to see who might have overheard her. The 1st One chimes in with, "Well, he tells lies." Huh..... Now I am thinking, "Have I ever lead them to believe that I think our president is less than honorable?" I was clear during the elections that I was not in favor of either canidate. That I was not certain of their sincerity or their integrity. When he was going to speak to the school children, I told my children that we would discuss whatever the President had to say when they came home since I was not sure of what he would say. I did not know if he would say something contrary to what we believe or not. (Their school opted to not show the brodcast so it ended up being a non-issue.) All that into consideration, I am not sure I would have jumped to the conclusion that "Obama is just like Satan.", though I may have jumped to the "Well, he tells lies." It really makes me wish there was more honesty in politics. I wish that we did not have to question everything that our politicians say, that we could trust whatever came out of Washington, our states, counties, and cities.

Anyway, I think it is safe to say that I have minority children who are not in favor of the current administration. I will have to ask some more questions soon to see how they came to these conclusions and why they feel the way they do. It will be interesting to hear what they have to say.

Hot Pursuit.....

Sometimes I think it is just a matter of time before I find myself wondering where I went wrong.... Wondering why I am seeing one of my sweet beautiful children on an episode of "COPS." It's not so much the lack of respect for my authority or the screaming they hate me when we have to leave the mall play area or even the brawls they get into with each other that worry me the most. It is their sense of adventure. The constant question in their mind that says, "I wonder what will happen if I do this?" You know like when the Wild Child cut up a whole mess of stuff in her brother's closet or the feathers, knee deep in a bedroom, when they opened a down pillow.

Today, it was the Little Jamaican who let that question get the best of her. All morning long, before kindergarten, I kept asking her to find her homework so we could turn it in today. She kept telling me it was lost and that she couldn't find it. Every time I reminded her, she was watching TV. (Dora has a way of sucking that child in.) Finally, I turn off the TV and tell her she has to find it. After a half-hearted attempt, and claiming it was no where to be found, I started looking for it myself. I found it a short time later. So this is why I was so surprised when we went to load up in the family mini-van to hear her exclaim, with a smirk on her face, "Look what I did, Mom." I looked to find she had drawn on the side of the van with what appears to be permanent marker. What concerned me most, was, after losing some privileges and a scolding, she still could not wipe that little smirky smile off her face.

So, all the marker did not come off, but more than I thought would did. So this has me wondering, "When I will be getting that call to come post bail?"

Let's Say.......

Let's say that someone's six year old insists that her clothes match, even though this someone knows they do not. Let's say the six year old continues her campaign until said someone does not care anymore. This sweet six year old now believes that she can argue anything to become her version of reality. Now, I see no sense in arguing with a six year old over trivial matters. If she wants to wear mismatched clothing, by all means have at it. BUT, do not expect me to tell you it matches.

I have noticed adults around me who have learned similar lessons. Adults who think that selective memory is going to save them from harsh realities. Some think they can out wait whatever it is that they don't want to deal with, thus making it a non-issue. Others believe they can convince those around them that their mismatched socks do indeed match.

This reminds me that in many places, if you do not know the law and you break it, you are still held accountable. Even if you are amazing at rationalizing your actions, most would still hold you accountable for a myriad of transgressions. For instance, we once thought we had re-registered one of our vehicles and found out later when a ticket was given to a family member that it was not. The officer did not care that we were certain we had done our duty. He didn't care it was not my family member's truck. He especially did not care that we never got a renewal notice.

When I started this post I thought my frustration was with people choosing to be oblivious as a defense mechanism, when, as it turns out, my frustration seems to be more with rationalization. Huh..... This is another fabulous reason to blog. It is so much cheaper than therapy.