Parenting Picky: A Nose Story

One of my Google Plus Friends, Bobo Uzala, have been laughingly talking about a picky subject.  I have a couple of photos of my daughter and I with our fingers in our nose... and he commented on them.  Which led to some laughing and sharing one of my house rules/parenting strategies.  I decided to include this entry in my blog because its just good fun and the stories that lead up to why I parent this way might make a person just laugh.

So thanks Bobo!  You picked this one for me~

Parenting gives me complexes.  Watching other children absolutely makes this paramount.  Have you ever been in public and watched a kid really gross you out?  I see kids do some gross things.  That's what kids do.  They horrify us into action.  Bad habits are so easily looked over as a phase.  However, one can say that when its somebody else's gross kid.  One thing that I find incredibly gross happens to be booger picking.  Nothing disgusts me more than seeing a kid knuckle deep in their nose and then eating a plucked out prize.  *shudder*  Then there's the multi-taskers... kids with a thumb in their mouth and a finger in their nostril.  *ooh how disgusting*  The thing is, you just can't avoid boogers.  Everybody has them.  We've all had that epic thing inside our nose that must come out.  My grievance with boogers is not the existence, but the disposal.  I've never told my child not to get rid of a booger, I've merely helped her avoid a terrible habit that other people tease kids mercilessly about.  A habit parents get bent out of shape over.  PDBP.  Public displays of Booger picking.  Take that to the bathroom!  Get a tissue!  Blow!  Anything, but do that in front of me!!

This was a picking lesson gone funny!

So when I first saw my daughter start with the booger thing, I came up with this house rule:  You cannot pick your own nose, however, you can pick someone else's.  WHAT?  By doing this, I pounced on my daughter with my finger whenever I caught her trying to pick her nose and offered my deluxe help.  Then I would offer up my nose for her to 'help' excavate since I couldn't pick mine.  All this horrified my daughter and she would run away into the bathroom or somewhere else privately to get rid of whatever what tickling her nose.  It was a way to point out I could see what she was doing and to remind her how yucky it was.  This plan worked and the result is much laughter and I don't catch my kid digging her nose in public.  She is a staunch believer in tissue.

That does not mean I haven't had to be there for nosebleeds and other fun things we encounter as parents, but it has definitely made my daughter more aware of what she's doing.

She loves my retelling of C's comet.  An unforgettable booger that should go down in history.  It all happened when when C spent the night with her Mom.  It's one of those things you find and think to yourself:  Wow!  That's something I'd show off, but not really.  I found my niece's booger the next day and it was like a bloody comet.  The huge bloody thing was crusted on a blanket and was so big I still laugh.  The trail was at least a good foot.  However, the story is better.

So anyway, I hear pacing in the night and it's my cousin with her daughter.  She's freaking out in the middle of the night because her child had a nosebleed and she had no idea of how to handle it and her daughter was freaking out because she was.  I come up my basement stairs to find the panic and blood everywhere.  I simply take C away from her Mom and open my bedroom door and tell John to get up.  Wow!  In the bright lights of my bathroom I have C, my niece in my arms.  Her face is coated in blood and she has white blond hair with bloody streaks in it.  To get her to stop crying, I just ask:  C?  Did you bite your Mommy's head off?  C looks at me and grins with the biggest bloodiest smile ever and croaks:  YEAH!  I laugh and John hands me the boo-boo bunny.  The boo-boo bunny is an icepack with rabbit ears and I start hopping the bunny around her nose and it stops bleeding.  The whole time her Mom is just in the hallway helplessly watching the old pros handle her child and laugh it all away.  I told C:  Well look, that Mommy's head grew right back!  Be careful next time!

My cousin simply was grateful we were there to calm C down and let her calm down too.  It doesn't sound as funny as being there, but WOW! it was hilarious.  Then there was finding that booger the next day.  It made me understand how hard that kid worked to get so bloody.  And I'll never forget that smile she had with all her bloody teeth.  She looked pleased that it wasn't serious, only Mommy's head.  *FULL BELLY LAUGH*

Picking Those Moments

I am HDMItting a Weakness

It is a terrible shame.
to crumble under pressure

I'm.....

Having Delirious Male Inclinations
(HDMI)

Oh how I lust after
the pixillation
titillation
Of just one monitor.
and a recliner.

A couple of floor jacks.
HDMI (How do Men Imagine)
No Anticipation.

I'll rip down the posters.
Scale the walls.

Hungrily mounting.
Falling into recline.

Slip, slide, tap, tap tap.
Jack up the Chair.

Higher, I can't see.  Is it on?

Oh the savor of this covet.

HDMI (How Does Magic Imagine)

Raw and wriggling.  Golem down at Best Buy.

Honey Does Money Itch. (HDMI)

The Final Day that Plays Out

Every year, I go through a nightmare.  A nightmare that began 12 years ago.  Today is the final day.  The day her casket closes forever.  The day they put her in the dark.  The day that has reverberated to the point of shattering.  Higher than opera singer.  The glass of my heart.  The glass that always was half full, and I held it smiling because the empty part I drank.  I think of this glass and want to smash it, yet still clutch it close to me. 

My sister died.  And died.  For the longest days of my life she died.  And she's never coming back.  Twelve years have gone by.  I can still hear her laugh.  I can still hear that Pink Panther snicker.  Time has only made my heart miss her more.  She wasn't perfect.  So far from it.  But she was my sister.  We had the same Mom and the same Dad.  We were two of a kind.  I was hers and she never let me forget she was mine.  It's the little things about her I miss.  I miss hearing Faye-Faye.  I miss being her Faye-Faye.  Someone she looked up to and was proud of.  Her big sister.

She sacrificed for me.  She stuck up for me.  She had so much heart.  She stood up like a super hero in front of what might as well have been a bulldozer.  We took licks for one another.  We licked each other's wounds.  She kept the emptiness away and I didn't thank her enough.  I was too busy with my self important life to really see who she was and how much she mattered.  She still matters to this day.  Right now, she matters because I keep her memories close and in the deep dark she still chases demons away.

 

Me and My Sister Lynn

 

It never gets easier for me.  The loss of my sister.  I live each year trapped in this horrible event .. holding my breath until the end.  That's today.  I want to feel different, yet I do not.  I don't accept her death at all.  I still feel like she could bust into the door at any moment.  I look for her.  I chase her in my dreams.  I see her in my daily life.  I look down into my daughter's face and see her laughing eyes looking back at me. 

She won't ever know my daughter.  It makes me sad and angry.  I stopped pointing fingers a long time ago.  But I'm still mad.  Every year, on the 19th, I go to the cemetery and I let myself feel that pain and I cry.  I cry for everyone to see and I don't care.  It hurts.  I don't want to stop hurting.  Somehow if I stop feeling that feeling, her death becomes just another meaningless tragedy.  I won't give that up.  She will always matter.

 

Who Are You to....

Who are you to follow me?  You shadowy lost thing.  Crumpled little memories, cards and pictures and such.  Who are you to follow me?  You who cost so much.

 

I used to be scared to see your shadow lurking in my path.  Now I'm not, since I forgot.. you.  Why should I revisit you?  I find myself reading caught up in this time of grief.  My journals made me sob with memories shoved deep down.  I haven't read them in years.  I wasn't ready to cry and share my tears thinking about you.

 

But I did.  So many things cross my thoughts as I ponder years ago.  I am surprised to realize I don't hate you.  I think I read my journals because I wanted to.  I can't anymore.. I don't think I ever have.  Instead questions tumble out of me...

 

How are you?  Have you been alright?  Have you found happiness?  Has God touched you?  Have you let go?  Do you love yourself yet?  I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope so.

 

Still, who are you to follow me?

 

How could you?

Why would you?

Is this spite?

What does it mean?

What do you want?

What would you say?

What is your angle?

What do you have to gain?

 

Who are you?

Are you new?

Are you so sure,

What are you following me for?

 

Juicy and full of Pulp

I am minutes away from going to the dentist and I think I should go pick over my teeth one more time for pieces of the pulp fiction that flew around last night.  I'm soggy to say ... I never got that stiff drink.  It's a shame too.  I need to hunker down and not turn into a lush I think.  I witnessed the consequences of what happens when it goes to your head.

And yeah, GOD.  I want a sip.  Ok, maybe two fingers.  Not too much.  I don't want people to talk.

Bright Shiny Day of Ministering to the People

Yesterday was pretty amazing.  Snazzy, Jazzy, Voo-doolicious even.  Yah.  I went to see the VooDoo Lady.  I have to say I had a tough time following the matron in black complete with awful snow boots into her den without laughing, but I managed.  Man, you had to be there to understand.  But anyway, I think she is beginning to understand my sense of humor, because I gladly told her I was thrilled Vybrid didn't cause me to want to knit a sweater!  This realization is kinda scary and on the other hand, a compliment of such.  In other words, she hasn't locked me in the loony bin because she hates my sarcasm.  *whew*  I say that in advance because we were discussing the only side effect I disliked and I had to really grasp for language at this point as not to be vulgar and say the word Fart.  So deadpan I told her that it occasionally makes me afraid of Flatulation.  Her eyebrows went up and we both shared a three second stare and moved right along with my happiness that sex is still on the menu. *snicker*

After that I decided to go grocery shopping.  My mom decided to call me and I had to answer the phone because she had threatened me in voicemail form that translated to:  You are a douche if you don't call your mother.  Nobody wants that, so I answered.

People my mother decided to discuss God and the Gospel.  I pulled my buggy over and sat down on a recliner deciding on how to get her to stop talking about the whole subject.  She advised me to read the gospel if I had any questions about life.  Really?  OK, Who is this woman and where is my mom?  So I told her I didn't think God brought up nosehairs in the Bible.  Behind me I hear a pink panther like *hhehheheheh* and the guilty party laughed openly at my obvious discomfort of being in the middle of Big Lots thinking blasphemy.  My mom picked up on this finally and asked me to call her later.  I sagged in the lazy-boy, stuffed my phone in my purse and continued on shopping .. all the while wondering how God decided to talk to me through Big Lots.

WOW.  I found personality at Big Lots.  This is highly unusual for me.  Sadly though, I needed candy.  Yeah, he was 18 and thinking I was hot stuff, and told me so.  I tried to be grown up.  I failed.

On to shop at the Dollar Tree.  Then stopped at the ABC store.  Tom Jones' What's New Pussycat was playing.  I just had to comment I had that on vinyl.  The lady behind the counter said Ummm HUmmmm I loved him and his tight assed pants growing up Ummmm  HUummmm.  Which prompted me to say I feel the same way about David Bowie and then we both smacked our gums and had it not been in the ABC store, we probably would have high fived each other and bumped hips.  It was a transcendental moment.

I got home and was a hero for thumping my chest and hunting and gathering much food and laughter.  Life was pretty shiny huh?

Another One of those Real Conversations - They Keep Rolling

This conversational gem actually occurred before the previous post... (incidentally, I racked that one up last night)...

I need to stop exclaiming nonchalontly how things in this world just suck.  Everything from the radio station to I need to go to the store...

Daughter:  THIS SUCKS BALLS!!!  Stomp*Loud*stomp

Me:  (incredulous because my kid said this in front of me) Mouth Agape... then thoughtfully....

            Sweetheart?  Has Mommy ever told you exactly what balls are?

Daughter:  Cautiously.   No?

Me:  Remember that great word Penis?

Daughter:  You mean there's more? (very much disgusted and very afraid I might elaborate)

Me:  Well.  *blah*blah*great parenting*blah**blah*apology for horrible vernacular and parent points subtracted**blah***(breath)

INTERRUPT....Daughter:  Do I have to know anymore?  Things can now suck in ... in... Lemons!  Lemons!  Mom, those suck, right?

Me:  Oh how I wished I had asked what her final thoughts were.

HA

Really - This was a Conversation

Me:  Some days I have more than brass balls.  I have LEAD ones.  (We were discussing reality, life and other manly pursuits and measuring success rates solely upon the formula all successful people use: testicles + shiny = I AM A MAN.  Size and weight of sack being proportional to difficulty in attaining goal.  Read the line on the sack!)  Humor deepens.

Friend:  I have some of those things.  I've been looking to have mine chromed.  Make 'em shiny, but having problems finding someone to do it.  (Lead!  Why Lead!?)

Me:  No problem!!  Let me pull up GOOGLE.  We shall Chrome you!!  (Bata-bing)  Call me anytime you have a problem.  Oh Yeah.  Google has the answer for your balls! 

Friend:  HAHHAHHAHAHH  (insert cool points)

Me:  HAHAHAHAHHAH (rack 'em)

(OH Snap I'm so fucking CLEVER)

HHAHAHAHHAHAHHAH

Lead balled bitch think tanking with numbnuts...... HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH!

Keeping On till Its Over

Setting all this down feels downright saintly.  Where were we?  Ahh yes..  trouble still abounded everywhere.  And then I met this guy.

Who probably helped with the demise of my desktop... or at least lent to it.  We are hanging out in my cave and he decides he's going to have a look see inside my tower.  Without asking, he pops the side and simultaneously a vein in my forehead exploded.

I never saw such a big guy move so quickly when I screamed:

WHATINTHE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? YOU ARE NOT GROUNDED AND THE DAMN COMPUTER IS ON YOU IDIOT!

Word to the wise:

NEVER pop the hood on anyone's baby to see what's inside.  They might demasculate you on site.

Two days later:  my hard disks clattered and I hit the power button and prayed.

Backing up:  this guy, whom I still count as a friend... introduced me to:

PAID PROFESSIONAL.  and he said:

Did you know that your Vostro 1720 had Windows Ultimate?  [no]

I do believe your hard drive on your desktop was refurbished.  [what?]

No that hole should not be there.

It would be better if you just replaced the computer than tried to fix it.

I've never seen a laptop so screwed up like that Latitude.

The guy at Best Buy said smart phones don't get viruses? really?

You really take care of your computers, because your desktop just needs a new drive..so no, you are not stupid.. really...pat..pat..pat...

AND THEN

I watched him assemble my desktop, from parts we agreed on together.

Parts for my New Desktop

Hello Big Drive

Hi Graphics Card and Card Reader

OK, and I love Tiger Direct and my Professional that made this possible.

Continuance of Keeping On

Where was I?  Oh Yes.  I was wanting to hit a guy.  The whole time I am thinking to myself, you can't make this man mad at you.  Do you realize this?  What if he just makes his own door into your home and sacks the whole place.  The very idea was scary beyond all means.  We call AT&T for another home visit.  This time they send someone a little nicer.. more personable.  

And I stepped into the pile of poo of asking for help outside the box.  Golly Gee Whiz.  My Vostro gets a graphics card, some ram and more space.  Meanwhile, technology meets marriage and on some days there is still acid rain.

I decided to can AT&T.  Not because they were bad really.  It was more because the service didn't meet my growing needs.  I will say they are diligent and kind and willing to work with you, but after two home calls, I just wanted something else.  [the guy that updated my computer was such a jerk that he mailed me my laptop cord... MAILED]

Sooooo.  I start having different problems ... much of it keeping up with all these computers.  As well as frustration at not being educated enough to ask the correct questions.

Our router was giving us trouble needing constant resets.  I had to call Time Warner.  I had a man there accuse me of stealing wifi service and then lecture me on his job.  I interrupted him and told him I paid him to do his job, and if I wanted to go to school I'd take a class.  He sent me down the circular drainage phone system because of my supposed theft.  When I finally talked to someone with brains I asked how did I convince a Time Warner employee to drill holes in my wall and install cable boxes in my basement just so I could steal Internet?  Why did this guy say this?  After carefully adjusting my billing and agreeing with the impossibility of me masterminding theft of Internet service I had been overpaying for I was sent a new router.  I was joyous.  Who wouldn't be?

Time moves on.  Speed did not.  So I looked into finding someone to work on my network.  Yeah.  I had to admit I was a network now.

To the Internet.  Epiphany.

Why not talk to Dell?  I was trying to update my three stock laptops and debug them, plus figure out how to use a network drive and sort out bugs in my beloved desktop.

Dell took a week of my life.  You can read about it in past entries.  Needless to say, they gave me a full refund for the service they were supposed to provide to me.  That took three hours and a refusal to let them into my computer period.

I still had the same problems.  I tried one more company.  They at least got some bugs worked out and helped with backup.  The sad thing was:  I had been watching people in my computer so long I knew what they were doing.

to be continued some more.

Keeping on Keeping on

I'm finally here.  Fitfully resting my laurels on my blog.  Triage seems to be the best word I can come up with to explain the absence of words and my usual anecdotes of sarcasm.  Has anyone missed me?  Hell if I know.  Have I missed being here.  With the fierceness of a thousand burning suns.  I sit down in my man cave with such a sense of relief.  *SIGH*  My place is whole again.  I didn't understand just how much 350 square feet make a difference in my life.  I have felt like all the creativity I possess had been drained out of me.  What was left has felt extremely useless.  Volatile, angry, putrid and festering...but with no purpose or creative way to lob itself at the world in general.  I have much to report on.  Many loose ends to contemplate.  My biggest feeling of the moment is:  Hell YES.  I AM HERE.  DOING WHAT I DO.  WRITING.  

I have kept a journal since 1990.  Handwritten in crazy handwriting.  Tomes of feelings.  Then I moved into online and over time, I have migrated here.  I plan on moving this who kit and caboodle over to my own web address at some point.  I've been on a learning journey that isn't over yet.  The beauty of having this blog is the fact its still here.  For that, I am grateful.  I am getting to where I understand technology a little bit better, and I know that I have more to do.  I want to share my experience with fellow bloggers, because I believe I might make a few people feel a bit better about themselves.  Who knows?  Some of the companies I name off might want to pay attention.  Either way, I am going to set this down.  This shackle of technological tragedy that will probably read as being pretty funny.

I am writing the world from my very first custom built computer.  Yeah.  Up until now, every computer I've ever purchased myself was a Dell.  My defense for choosing Dell came from using other computers and from the only computer I've owned that I didn't pick out:  a Toshiba Satellite.  That thing came loaded with software that was impossible to uninstall and be rid of.  That said, I still own it, and it still works.  My first desktop came to be in 2008.  A Vostro 200.  Oh I loved my computer.  I did.  I still do.  My paid professional is going to help me convert it into a huge storage hub for my home.  I'm sad to say that after too many people, too many companies and too many idiots my Vostro clattered to its death December 8, 2013.

So what happened?  People throw things away all the time!  That Vostro is a Dinosaur you say!  True. Had it not been upgraded.  But I am getting ahead.  Let me finish setting things out.  My little Dell family grew.  My husband needed a laptop, as his Dimension has a case of dementia.  Enter the Latitude.  It took three Latititudes to get one to work.  That was a late night email to Michael Dell that got results.  Then with further ado enter the Vostro 1720 laptop and much later my Inspiron.  That is a bunch of laptops and computers.  How do you keep up with them all?  Somewhere in there, we decided to change cable companies.  Enter me.

Southern Bell was our phone company, and well paying separate for AT&T Internet stunk.  However, they had this great little program, where they put a toolbox on your computer and you could call them for anything.  You know, this was kind of cool and they were nice people I could understand.  However, when two optical drives one on a laptop and the other my coveted desktop decided they either didn't exist or that they simply didn't work.... AT&T could not fix it.  Soooo.  They sent somebody out to my house.

After much deliberation, representative said that iTunes ate my laptop optical drive.  WHAT!  Oh yeah, and your desktop optical drive never did what you said it was supposed to.  DEAR GOD.  I wanted to hit him.

to be continued....