Sunday, November 29, 2015

See, What Had Happened Was...

I'm a bad blogger. It's as simple as that. Life got crazy... I went crazy... and blogging just fell to the wayside. I had ideas. Oh, man did I have ideas. But I just never found the time to take those ideas and put them into writing. So, many of them are now expired ideas. Like, who wants to read about how we accidentally became a Trader Joe's family because of Pumpkin Spice Coffee, which I bought like 2 months ago? No one. No one wants to read that old shit now. Now it's peppermint mocha everything, so my pumpkin spice story is just... old.

So I can recap. That's about the best I can do for right now, until I get my mojo back, find a little more of my sanity, and force myself to sit down and type away at this computer... which so far, has been quite cathartic... already... after just a paragraph and a half. Hmm... I might be on to something again...

In the past few months:

  • The Ginger turned 11. I now have an 11 year old and a 13 year old... who constantly reminds me that in 4 months, she'll be 14. And then I have wine. Because no. Just no. I'm not the mom of an 11 year old and an almost 14 year old. Because that would mean that on my birthday, I'll be turning 35. Nope. More wine it is.
  • I went crazy. Did y'all catch that above? I actually did mention it in the beginning stages in a blog post, Being Crazy Sucks. Since then (y'all ready for this roller coaster? Fasten your

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

12 Things Overheard at Our House During Halloween

Halloween is a favorite holiday of most of the people in my house- me especially. We usually go all out, either all dressing up to take the kids trick-or-treating, or, as in recent years, setting up a home haunt to scare the trick-or-treaters. This year is no different, and as we have been planning for an Alice in Horrorland set up for the yard, many of the things that have been said would cause an outsider to raise an eyebrow.

These are actual things said at one point or another over the last few weeks! You know it's our favorite time of year!!

1. Me: A bag of flesh? Would that be good?
The Girl: That would be perfect!
Me: For only $19.95, too? Hells yeah... Wait. They are sold out. Dammit!

2. Me: Is this hedgehog okay, or does it need more blood?
Hubby: It looks bloody enough, babe.

3. Me: Be a boxer, please!

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Hi. My Name is Morgan, and I'm a Morning Person

My eyes popped open at 6:45 this morning... on a Saturday. All it did was remind me of a recent conversation Hubby and I had- one that I think I have to finally admit as the truth.

Me: I think I'm a morning person.
Hubby: (bursts out laughing) Are you serious?
Me: What?
Hubby: Are you just now figuring that out?
Me: What's that supposed to mean?
Hubby: You've been a morning person for years now.
Me: (in complete denial, shaking my head) No I haven't been.
Hubby: (still laughing) Yes you have. And you definitely still are one.
Me: NO I'M NOT!! I HATE morning people. They're all perky and "Hello, morning! How amazing is this day?!" and shit. I am NOT a morning person. I don't want to be a morning person!
Hubby: (still laughing) Baby, you're a morning person. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn, make coffee and immediately start working. And, you can't stay up past 10 at night. You are a morning person.
Me: I just like the quiet in the morning, thank you. And I like my sleep at night.
Hubby: That makes you a morning person.
Me: Shut up!
Hubby: (still laughing) I can't believe you are just now figuring this out.
Me: Shut up!! I don't WANT to be a morning person, dammit!

I've fought it for days now, since our conversation. Every time I come up with a logical explanation,

Friday, September 4, 2015

Being Crazy Sucks

I believe we're all crazy. Crazy comes in different types, symptoms, quirks, whatever you want to call it, but we're all a little crazy in some way. People who have been diagnosed with a particular type of mental health disorder are crazy. People who haven't been diagnosed with a particular type of mental health disorder are crazy. We're all a little crazy, and I tend to use the word "crazy" as a blanket term. It's not meant to be offensive; it's meant to make you embrace and smile about a subject that normally causes tears.
Amen!

If you don't agree with that statement above, or take offense to it, then it's probably best that you don't read further, because you won't understand my post, or how I view this sensitive subject. That's your disclaimer right there. Take it or leave it, it's up to you.

I was first officially diagnosed as crazy when I was 18 or 19. Adjustment Disorder is what the therapist called it, meaning I didn't adjust well to change. You graduate high school, get married a month later, become a military wife and move to a different state all in the process of one summer, and I'm sure you wouldn't adjust well to change, either. But, unlike most people, who can just bend and adapt to change, I had a nervous breakdown... at work... in a crowded restaurant where I was a waitress... with everyone watching. So I started my first stint in therapy (yes, stint, as in- I'm comparing it to jail... why? If you've been in therapy before, you know that some sessions feel like you were sentenced to attend), which lasted over a year.

Fast forward about 4 years or so, and I felt another breakdown coming on. I entered therapy again,

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

You Know You're Raising Your Teenager Daughter Right When...

We ventured to the local water park this past weekend, in an attempt to squeeze in a little bit more of our summer. When we got home, wet clothes came off, a shower was taken, and comfy clothes went on- that's just how it goes, right?
The questionable tank top.
And I thought the most offensive thing was
my crazy lazy day hair...

Well, since my girls (you know, the two below my chin) had been cooped up in a bathing suit all day, it was time to let them free. I showered, found a comfy pair of palazzo pants and a tank top with a built-in bra, and was very at-ease.

It just so happened that the tank top was from Victoria's Secret. Back in the day, when I was a tattoo artist who relied heavily on tips, my wardrobe was a bit... questionable. I purchased these tank tops then, with a plunging neckline, and it helped with my bottom line... feel me? Since leaving the tattooing world and becoming a work-at-home mom, those tank tops got lost in the back of my closet somewhere... until this past weekend.

I came downstairs, Hubby on the couch, The Girl playing on the computer. She turned around, took one look at me and said:

"Whoa, Mom. Put those away!" And she started giggling.

I stopped dead in my tracks, as I had no idea what she was talking about. She gestured to my chest

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Perspective is a Great Thing

The reality hit us recently that we are stuck. Hubby has 3 years left in the military, and if he doesn't make the next rank, that's the end of his military career. With 3 years left in his current rank, he lacks what they call "retainability" which means we probably won't get orders out of the desert before his career is through.

See. Stuck.

I went into panic mode. We are used to moving every 3-5 years. Hubby has been here 5 years now, the kids and I have been here for 3 years- that Moving Itch had set in.

And remember how we had orders to Japan last year, and then they were cancelled? Every single person we talked to said, "Oh, just wait. Whenever they cancel orders like that, you always get another set of orders in the next cycle. You're fine."

We waited. And waited. Like 5 cycles have passed now, and no orders. They double screwed us.

So, we're stuck. When that realization hit, I did what any crazed person who feels backed into a corner does-

I started house hunting for a place off base. If the military won't give us orders, then at least we can take it upon ourselves to change our environment to make the next 3 years exciting again.

So let's talk numbers. I'm going to throw everything out there, and before you non-military people

Monday, July 13, 2015

9am, Pre-Vacation Anxiety-Filled Ramblings

I have been a suck-ass blogger lately. I know this. I've been a suck-ass blogger because I've had to be a non-suck-ass business owner, homeschooler, wife, and mother lately. Which means something had to suck ass, and unfortunately, it was blogging. That's just been my reality lately.

I'm nervously typing this out because I'm anxious as hell right now. We leave for our vacation tomorrow, and while I'm super happy to see family we haven't seen in 3 years, I hate traveling. 6 hours of flights there, 6 hours of flights back, and I'm not a flying person. At all. Yes, I've acquired the necessary meds to help me fly, but it doesn't make the anxiety leading up to the flying any better, because I refuse to take the flying-anti-anxiety meds until we are actually flying. Fun how that works out.

I also have to leave my furbaby, Ariya for the first time since we got her 2 1/2 years ago. This dog is attached to my hip, and I have zero problems with that. That makes leaving her 1,000 times worse. She is getting to stay with some amazing people, who I know will treat her the way I do (like an actual child), but it doesn't make my heart hurt any less to not be around her. It's not even me I'm really worried about- it's her. Will she think we abandoned her? Will she understand we're coming back? Will she be okay? Just more to add to my *lovely* anxiety right now.

They say when it rains, it pours, and lately, you can tell it's been monsoon season here in Arizona, and can totally explain why I've been MIA lately. It started a little over a month ago when Etsy

Thursday, May 21, 2015

When the Subject of Religion Pops Up...

When I started blogging years ago, there were two topics I always swore I'd stay away from- Religion and Politics.
Pic Courtesy

I have to break my little rule today.

The Ginger came in last night from playing outside with his best friend (a kid he's been friends with for 3 years now), and he immediately trucked it to the back part of the house. He started doing his chores (on his own, without being told- Red Flag #1), and was putting things away in their places with a little too much vigor (read: slamming shit around- Red Flag #2). I quietly watched for a moment or two, to see if he'd open up about whatever was obviously bothering him, but then returned to my office because I know with The Ginger, he'd have to approach me... and he would.

A few minutes went by, and The Ginger popped into my office and asked, "Mom, are we atheists?"

Whoa. Okay. I knew something was bothering him, but that definitely came out of left field.

Of course I asked the obvious question:

"Where did you hear that word?"

The Ginger walked out of the room. He obviously didn't want to rat out his friend, but I didn't feel

Monday, May 11, 2015

5 Ways to Develop Your Psychic Mom Abilities

"Have you been playing in my office?"

The Ginger stared at me blankly. Slowly, he shook his head.

"Really? You haven't been playing in my office? At my desk, maybe?"

He took a huge swallow. Slowly shook his head again.

"Are you lying to me right now?"

At that moment, he broke. "Yes, Mom, I was in your office. I was just spinning around in the office chair. I didn't touch anything, I promise! How did you know? I did it when you were in the shower."

"Because I'm psychic. All moms are psychic. We know what our kids are doing at ALL times. Got it?"

The Ginger, eyes wide, hung his head and nodded that he understood. Then he ran off to his room.

This is probably one of my favorite parts of being a mom. How did I know The Ginger had been in my office, downstairs, in the front part of my house, when I was upstairs, taking a shower, in the back part of my house? Am I truly psychic?

That time I dreamed the Pick 3 winning lottery numbers would prove yes. And yes, I played them, but they came up in a different order than what I played, and I had played 'Exact Order' like a dumbass. The clerk at the gas station, however, when I told him my story of how I dreamed the numbers, played them 'Any Order' and won $500 bucks off me. Asshat.

Anyway, no, I'm not psychic. The seat height on my office chair is adjustable, so when I sat down on it, and was about 4 inches too high for my desk, I knew the spinning-chair-loving Ginger had been having quite a fun time while I was otherwise occupied.

Am I ever going to tell The Ginger my secret? Hell no. Kids thinking their moms are psychic has

Friday, May 1, 2015

Can We Really Talk About Homeschooling?

(Note: This post was written as a rebuttal for an anti-homeschooling post that went up on a pretty popular mom blog submission site earlier this week. The original post was pulled from the website roughly 24 hours after it was put up. I sent in my rebuttal anyway, as they asked for one before pulling the piece, and received an email today from one of the editors saying the author of the post had been verbally threatened, so they pulled it for her safety. The original post was very belittling to the homeschool community, as the author did actually call anyone without an education degree who homeschooled their child an "idiot," but I find it disheartening that she was verbally threatened for sharing her opinion. We're all adults here, and as I understand not everyone would agree with her opinion or mine, verbally threatening someone who shares an different opinion than you is just idiotic.
So here, on my site, let's just all get along, please. Hold hands and sing kumbaya and shit, even if we don't see eye to eye. I felt my piece should be read anyway, as I took the time to put my heart and soul into it, so here it is. ~Morgan, aka Tatted Mom)


In January, I decided to homeschool my kids.

Why are you laughing? Kinda trying to be serious over here. I really did. No, seriously.

No, I didn’t bump my head. No, I’m not on drugs. And no, I don’t have a degree in education.

The public school system, as my family knew it, was failing my kids. We live in Arizona, which is currently ranked #43 out of 51 in the nation. Then, we live in Tucson, which is rated #228 out of 355. Statistically speaking, we’re at the bottom of the bottom here, and despite the valiant efforts of my kids’ teachers, it showed.

Instead of the “old method” of simply multiplying one number by another, my 4th grader was bringing home some core curriculum BS of what looked like follow-the-bouncy-ball on a number line. I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to multiply it, or sing along. And he couldn’t figure it out, either. Note after note went to his teacher from me, stating, “He did the homework, I just taught him the simple way to multiply, because neither one of us could figure out what the paper was trying to teach him.” She was very understanding, unlike my daughter’s 7th grade math teacher, who just constantly marked her work wrong because she wasn’t doing the 27 step core-curriculum-taught method, but instead was doing the 5 step method that has worked for me for 21 years now.

So, core curriculum- strike one against the public school system for my family.

My kids spent half of this school year in public schools, and when we kept getting notices in

Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Great Coffee-to-Tea Experiment

A few weeks ago, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to perform an experiment. (I seem to do that a lot in my life, can you tell?)

I switched my morning coffee for tea. Me? Mrs.Kids-Cats-Coffee-Tatts in my blog's slogan? Yeah, I know.

I completely understand that this has been done before. You can google it and 719,000 results come up, many of the posts are bloggers just like me. But, Inklingers, I haven't done it before, which means you all haven't been able to read my take on what happens.

It all started with an episode of the Good Witch TV show on the Hallmark Channel (hell of a reason to make a huge change in your life, right?). Cassie Nightingale was pushing her herbal "coffee" on everyone one episode, and when her next door neighbor (and eventual love interest- we all know it's coming) commented on how it actually did taste like coffee, she revealed that it was really roasted dandelion root, chicory root, and beet root.

I googled. The shit exists.

I decided to make a trip to my local herb store to see if they had the ingredients, and they actually had a blend already made, minus the beet root. They had it labeled as "Herbal Coffee," but then had a very peculiar thing written next to it- Caffeine Free.

What is this tomfoolery? Caffeine Free? I'm willing to perform the experiment of switching coffee to

Friday, April 10, 2015

The Evolution of a Super Mom

I couldn't figure out the best way to start out today's post, so what I'm going to do is give y'all the 3 possible intros I have floating around in my head, and we'll go from there. And yes, they are all related...

So, I had a small mental breakdown last week...

I thought I was Super Mom until...

and

I finally had to come to terms with an important life philosophy of mine this week...

Yep, those are some pretty good stepping stones, so we'll just move full steam ahead, shall we?

I've always wanted to be "Super Mom." Back when I used to take my toddlers to work with me each day, and converted the back room of my store into a playroom for them, I started with this irrational idea. I could be the woman who worked a full time job, raised the kids, kept a clean house, was always on top of things, had an amazing marriage, cooked healthy, gourmet meals, was a milf, and was happy. That was my goal.

Uh, have I ever mentioned how much of an overachiever I am? If you are new here, then Hey! I'm Morgan, aka Tatted Mom, and I'm an overachiever. If you've been with me for a while, I'm sure you are just nodding your head right now.

My kids are 13 and 10 now, and while I took a break from the "Super Mom" ideal for a year or so back in 2009 when I decided I didn't want a family (my About Me page explains that huge mistake of mine in a nutshell), I've once again made it my personal goal for the last 5 years.

This year, I decided to put my ideal into overdrive. I already had an online store that wasn't doing too

Friday, April 3, 2015

The Killer Bunny Story

Last week, my Mom Skills were put to the test, and let me tell you, when you are facing down a ferocious beast, and your kids are near, you learn things about yourself that you never knew prior to that intense moment.
The point of entry for the intruder.

Or something like that...

We have a gap in our screen door. We need to put in a work order with the housing office to have someone come out and fix it, but let me tell you-  fixing a gap in my screen door is not a priority in my life right now, so it's been like that for months.

The kids and I were leaving the house one morning last week, and The Girl and I were both at the front door. She unlocked it, grabbed the knob, opened the door and stopped dead in her tracks. She was looking down at the floor. I followed her gaze, saw a small brown, furry thing curled up in between the screen door and our house door, and...

Took off running down the hallway, shrieking. No joke. Not my proudest moment, let me tell you that.

It took approximately 2.5 seconds (and 14 feet of hallway) for my brain to process the image, compare it to the different files in my head, and find a match- long ears, soft and furry, fluffy butt- a baby bunny.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. The Girl, still standing at the door, matter-of-factly

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Not Prepared for Parenting Older Kids... Or the Zombie Apocalypse

When you become a mom of older kids, like I am (mine are 13 and 10), and you see a mom with younger kids, I'm sure the same thing goes through all of our minds...

"Oh, thank goodness I survived that section of parenthood."
Now THAT's Being Prepared...
Pic Courtesy

No more diaper changes, no more wordless temper tantrums (now they are silent altogether, except for the sound of marching off and a bedroom door slamming), no more mandated nap times screwing up schedules, no more bottle feedings/stopping to breastfeed, nothing. Just older kids who can express their thoughts and feelings (somewhat) coherently, who you can tell to disappear if they are angering you, and who can wipe their own asses.

Bliss, right?

Yeah, not exactly.

Yesterday, we went on a field trip with the homeschooling group we are members of, to a waste water treatment facility. The tour was supposed to start at 10, but as this place was very difficult to find (everyone's GPS had us doing some crazy u-turns in subdivisions and crap) and somewhere around 50 of us total showed up, it took a while to get things rolling.

I *thought* this was the field trip that was supposed to last between an hour to an hour and a half. Come to find out (the hard way, yes), the timed one was not this particular field trip, but the one we have in 2 weeks. Not knowing this when we left the house, the kids asked if we should bring anything with us.

Why? We'll only be gone like an hour and a half max, we'll be home in time for lunch and to spend time with Hubby before he goes to work. Easy peasy lemon squeezey.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The guy heading the tour started his presentation (what? There's a presentation with this? Just thought

Thursday, March 19, 2015

I'm Not Screwing Up My Kids for Life... I Think...

Every parent worries at some point if they are screwing up their kids for life.

When you start homeschooling, that fear and worry seems to triple.

Two and a half months now, the kids and I have been trying to find our place in the homeschooling world. At this point, I feel like Goldilocks:

We started out with an online school-at-home program "porridge"- Too Strict
We moved to unschooling- Too Relaxed (according to Hubby)
We started a more relaxed daily online curriculum program- Too Easy & Boring

At this point, I've thrown the homeschool porridge against the wall and am currently pouting in the corner, wondering if there's any porridge out there that's "just right" for my kids and I.

Two months now the consistency has been rather spotty. They do math at Khan Academy everyday, we've found literature and grammar curriculum that we've stuck with, and they write posts for their blog each week, but as far as science and history are concerned, we're just bouncing around.

I'm totally screwing up my kids' lives, aren't I? Why did I start homeschooling in the first place? Why did I think I was qualified to do this?

These thoughts stay in the back of my head like poison, seeping forward every once in a while to drive me bat shit crazy.

Needless to say, I've been stressed beyond belief lately.

My readers and my friends tell me that we'll figure it out. They say homeschooling takes adjustment

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Regaining My Nerd Status

I was a nerd in high school.
Pic Courtesy

Ha! Who am I kidding? I'm still a nerd now.

I'm a nerd, though, with a pretty big secret that was revealed to my kids this week. While they didn't fully understand the scope of the secret, Hubby looked at me like I had grown a second head and said, "Seriously? Whoa."

I never read 2 of the books that are some of the top books on pretty much any required reading or greatest books ever written lists...

"Lord of the Flies" and "The Catcher in the Rye." Never read either book.

Yeah, yeah. I know. Every single conversation in the last 15 years or so where either one of these books has been brought up has gone something like this:

Person: You know, like in "Lord of the Flies"/ "The Catcher in the Rye."
Me: Oh, yeah, I understand, but I've never read it.
Person: (blank stare) What?
Me: Yeah. I've never read it. But I know the concept of the story and all.
Person: (continued blank stare) What do you mean you never read "Lord of the Flies"/ "The Catcher

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Explosions and Chopping My Hair Off, All in a Day's Work

Yesterday, I lost it.

We are talking full-on, champagne bottle that had been shaken for weeks and finally exploded lost it.

So I did what any woman who fully lost it does- I went and cut all my hair off.

Yeah, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's head back to the scene of the crime beginning.

Yesterday morning started like any other morning. The kids got up, ate breakfast and then around 9-ish, they start their homeschooling. They start out with math, because, let's face it- most people hate math, so if they get it out of the way first thing in the morning, their day can only get better, right? (For the record, I love math. I have this annoying quirk where, if numbers are thrown at me in an equation-like way, I have to compute them. A simple question, standing in the grocery store, like, "Hey, is it better to get the 30 count for $5 or the 72 count for $9?" immediately makes my brain start working to figure out the problem. It gets annoying sometimes.) Both of the kids were on word problem lessons, which compounded their hate of math even more.

I usually work while the kids are on the computer, doing their lessons. So, I headed into the front room to organize my work day and figure out what orders needed to go out. I had barely even walked into the front room (25 feet from the kids), when I heard the first, "Hey, mom...".

I love my kids, I do. I love that they need my help. But I find it very hard to believe they need my help 2.5 seconds after I leave the room, when they've clearly been given directions on what they need

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Silver Linings and All That Shit

Tomorrow is the big day for The Girl. Exactly 1 week from her 13th birthday, she's having her braces put on.
Pic Courtesy

And she's excited about it.

WTF, right? So many WTFs right now, it's not funny.

WTF #1- She wants braces. She's looking forward to braces. She's been begging for braces. Not so much because she wants her teeth straightened, but because in this day and age, braces are cool. Which leads me to...

WTF #2- Braces are cool? Since when? 15 (cough)... 20 (cough)... Okay, fine... 25 years ago when I had them put on, they were the devil. No one wanted braces. Braces were a necessary evil your parents forced you to go through; a rite of passage into the teenage years; another horrible part of puberty, as if the pimples, greasy hair and weird ass hair growth (sorry, not weird ass hair growth, like weird ass hair growth... maybe a hyphen is needed for that? Weird-ass hair growth. Better? Fuck it) wasn't horrible enough, your parents threw in braces. And for me? A lovely head gear. I'm just

Monday, March 2, 2015

The Kids Now Blog, Therefore, I Blog

Lest ye be warned, internet goers. My children now have blogs.
Ye have been warned...

They aren't public (yet- we'll see how this goes), and they were created for homeschooling purposes, but nonetheless, they still have blogs.

I've been reading my ass off lately- homeschooling books, unschooling books, curriculum standards. My poor Sarah Addison Allen novel has been quite lonely, sitting untouched on my bedside table while I reach for the non-fiction books beside her. But at the moment, it's a necessary evil.

I'll run y'all through a quick timeline of recent events, which can somewhat explain why I've been MIA lately.

  • Beginning of January- Hubby left for school for 6 weeks and the kids started homeschooling with k12.com.
  • 2 weeks later- Kids and I were highly frustrated with the rigors of k12.com, and went to our first local homeschooling group, where I learned about unschooling. Our lives changed forever.
  • Beginning of February- Withdrew the kids from k12.com and let them start the unschooling thing. 
  • Middle of February- Hubby came home, having graduated with the top GPA in his class (this, from the man who slept through high school- we were shocked and thrilled beyond belief). When his structured-military-trained brain saw unschooling in action, his headache began. He

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Fifty Shades of... Give Me a Break

(This post is an opinion piece, but does contain extremely adult material and spoilers of the book "50 Shades of Grey." So, if you haven't read it and don't want it spoiled, or you haven't put your big girl panties on today, then I advise just clicking on, my friend. ~Tatted Mom)
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I can't pull up a website, open my Kindle (yes, I have the version with the ads still on it), or watch something on TV without being reminded that the 50 Shades of Grey movie comes out this weekend.

Yippee. Can you see me doing me Excited Dance? No? That's because I'm doing the Annoyed Eye Rolling Dance instead.

I confess now- I hated the book. I can't even say I hated the books (plural) because I didn't read them all. Naturally, I have this ingrained instinct to immediately reject the popular (had it since birth, I think), so when the book went crazy, I vowed never to read it- it was a reflex, sorry. Eventually, curiosity got the best of me (and I wanted to be included in the 5,477 conversations going on about it at any given moment) so I bought the first book.

I tried, Inklingers. I really did. I read the first 40 pages or so... and then skipped through and read all of the smutty parts.

I just didn't get it. The character development was pretty shotty, the characters themselves were aloof and pretty one-dimensional. And the smutty parts weren't even really good smutty parts. I've read better erotica in the fiction section of Penthouse magazine.

Now don't go thinking I hated the book because I'm sexually frustrated and a prude. That couldn't be

Monday, February 2, 2015

My Love Affair... With a Computer

I might be having a love affair with my kids' computer.

Yes, I have my own laptop. Hell, I even got a tablet for Christmas that I carry around with me pretty religiously... so much, in fact, that at the homeschooling group last week, I went to grab my phone, thinking it was my tablet, to show another mom a book I have downloaded on my tablet. First world problem, I know.

We bought the kids a desktop computer for Christmas because The Girl wanted to play The Sims, along with 37 of its expansion packs- something I did NOT want clogging up my laptop. The Ginger wanted to edit his stop-motion videos and research how to make more realistic ones, again, something I didn't want my laptop taken hostage for.

So Hubby and I bit the bullet and bought a desktop for the kids. We figured, a computer that stayed put in the kitchen desk area would be better than one that could disappear into the abyss that is each child's room, and would also teach the kids how to share. Meanwhile, I would have my laptop back to myself, and with my laptop, the freedom to do whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted.

Only... something strange happened between Christmas and now. I seem to have taken over the kids' computer.

There's something nostalgic about sitting in front of an actual computer, the clickety-clack of the

Saturday, January 24, 2015

I'm Done Being a Military Wife

I think I'm done being a Military Wife.

Oh, no, Hubby and I are fine- I'm not that type of done. I'm still the proud wife of a military member (and trolls, spare me the "there's no such thing as a military wife" bullshit- I got enough from y'all on my Dependa youtube video; apparently humor is lost on trolls...), but I'm getting so done with how military wives treat each other, that I'd like to withdraw my connection to most of them, please.

Is there a form to fill out? Can I go to Family Support for that?

This morning I woke... early... insomnia is still majorly screwing with me with Hubby not here right now.... so I grabbed my phone and started checking my facebook updates and whatnot. My news feed was filled with pictures, articles, questions asked to various groups I'm in, and then a post from a deployed military member to the base yard sale group, suggesting that maybe extreme couponers could take their stockpile extras and donate them to care packages for deployed military instead of selling them on the yard sale site.

Amen, military chica. Amen.

I'm an extreme couponer myself (need to get back into it, actually, as I've strayed in the last few months), and it makes my eye twitch to see people sell their stockpile items. I understand it might be a way for a military spouse to make some extra money, but they clear the shelves in the grocery store just to sell the items, and when I get to the store to get my items my family will use, there aren't any left. Plus, I'm really proud of my stockpile; we may never use 127 cans of shaving cream, but dammit, I acquired them for free. If I ever needed to get rid of them, I'd just donate. I have sold stockpile items in the past, when I first started couponing years ago, and I felt dirty about it. So, I never did it again.

Anyway, I digress- back to the post. Most of the comments supported the original poster. Of course, you have to have your troll- and the military lists are FULL of them.

Never mind what her negative comment was, the point is she made it. On military wives lists, or yard sale lists, or mom lists, or school lists, or whatever, there's always someone who makes that comment- usually you'll find quite a few of these people. I understand there are trolls everywhere, but there seems to be an unusually large number of them on military-related lists and groups.

I haven't quite figured it out, and I'm not sure if I ever will. Of course, I have many different hypotheses:
  1. Military bases have a high concentration of people from all walks of life in a small area. Statistically speaking, there's

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Today, at 34...

Today, I am 34.

Birthdays have a crazy way of making you think WAY too much. You think about where you've been, and what you've accomplished, and you think about where you are going and what you've yet to do.
A birthday post wouldn't be complete
without Ryan Gosling... le sigh...

You think about the million things you've done wrong, and the few things you've actually done right.

Birthdays are just crazy like that.

I talked to my Mom yesterday, who called to give me my birthday present early, and just check up on me since I've fallen off the face of the earth this year (this is my first blog post of 2015, and it's January 20th- homeschooling and my store are kicking my ass this year so far, but in good ways). She informed me that when she was 34, my sister was only 1 year old.

Nope. Not me. I see people my age with little kids, or pregnant, and I'm personally extremely happy that I pulled off the bandaid in my early 20s. Now, with my kids at 12 and 10, I can have decently mature conversations with them... if you call debating whether it'd be worse to have your nose above your butt or toes for fingers "mature conversation." (I'd totally go with toes for fingers, by the way.) I couldn't imagine changing diapers, or potty training, or not having any idea why my kid was screaming their head off because they didn't actually speak words I could understand, at my age. I applaud people who are my age, or older, with small kids, because it's something I just wouldn't want to do at this stage of my life. I applaud you, but I'll totally have you in the back of my mind while I'm sleeping in on the weekends, or watching a creepy PG-13 movie with my kiddos instead of "Frozen" for the umpteenth zillion time.

So, my birthday has made me think about what life would be like if I did have smaller kids. And y'all think I'm crazy now...

I've thought about where I've been, and how that road has led me to my life today.

Today, at 34, I've survived a three-year separation from my husband and an almost-divorce, moved about a dozen times