Mother's Day Manifesto, Part Deux

Last year I posted my Mother's Day Manifesto - I thought I'd repost it this year, for those that missed it. However, while my sentiment is the same, I think my gorgeous, gracious hubby gets it, now. He did a wonderful, amazing job at making me feel special for my birthday and I know that Mother's Day will be the same, this year. I just know that I'm not the only one who feels/felt the need to express these sentiments to our spouse and kids.

May your Mother's Day be awesome, as well.

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Mother's Day Manifesto

Mother's Day is rapidly approaching. May 10th (May 9th, 2010). This is for my family.

*ahem* (cough cough cough)

So, in order to avoid the fight that punctuated the end (with an exclamation point!) of last year's Mother's Day I wanted to write this down for you.

This year, for Mother's Day, I do not expect for you to buy me things. I do not need you to spend money that we do not have on things I do not need (but would love, obviously). I do not need flowers or jewelry or spa gift certificates. I do not relish the idea of standing in line at Perkins to eat breakfast on Mother's Day. I do not think that eating out is a fabulous use of our funds, either. Instead, let me propose the following:

On Mother's Day, I would like to not be thought of last. I spend all year making sure the rest of you come first. Your food, your clothes, your needs, your wants, your desires - all five of you .. on Mother's Day? I would like it to be me first. One day out of 365 doesn't seem like too much to ask. I would like some advance thought put into it, instead of realizing the night before that, while you bought a card for your mother, you haven't given a single thought as to what to do for me. I would like you (husband) to remember that the littles can't do much on their own so you have to take the initiative and get them moving. I don't want or desire store bought cards...no. I would LOVE a hand-drawn picture from them.

This Mother's Day, in lieu of spending the day rushing around to get me a present, I would adore for you all to just.. do my chores for me. Do the dishes, make the meals, clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom and the entry way, clean up the living room. Just... do it FOR me. Don't LET me do any of those things. Clean my van! Do the laundry! Clean the tub! Whatever. Oh! Oh! Oh! Girls? Clean your room without fighting!!!!!!! Oh. My. Barbie. That would be a present in itself.

A nap? That would be a definite bonus, I assure you.

If, after all of these ideas, you feel you MUST spend money on me - just buy me the plants I need for my front porch and spend time with me planting them. That's all.

I don't need much. I don't ask for much. I try to DO much for you all throughout the year, I just want to feel appreciated for one, single solitary day out of three hundred and sixty five.

I would like, for once, to not be an afterthought.

Thanks.

Your loving Wife

and

Mom

I have 301 "friends" on Facebook.

I don't say this to brag - because I've seen some of you with near a thousand! I say this because I'm just not really sure WHY I have 301 friends on Facebook. Sure, I've known more people than that throughout my life but why are they on my friend list, now?

Facebook has eliminated any need or desire (however minuscule) I might have had to attend any High School reunions. Anyone I wanted to know about, I caught up with on FB already. Well, except for Nate Beckstead. He and I hung out a lot during our senior year. IN fact, we both DIDN'T graduate together. We watched our friends graduate and then we headed off to work at Pizza Hut, where I was a manager and he was my star waiter. We headed up to find the party/camp spot after work and ended up lost. Kind of a metaphor, we thought. Anyway - we hung out a lot even after high school but when I requested him on FB he ignored my request. Which, yk, I get. He has a new life now - a different life - and I'm not part of that. I can respect that. But, Hey Nate? Ouch, yo.

Wow...a little off track there.

So, no HS reunion for me. Caught up with everyone already. But, really, why are some of these people still on my friend's list? I don't communicate with them - I haven't for 15+ years! Now, suddenly, we can all be spies and privy to each others lives? We can comment on each others statuses when, really, we don't even KNOW each other any more?

FB HAS allowed me to have a little reunion amongst a group of friends that were really important to me when I first moved to SLC. That was a lot of fun. I'm glad that happened and I do still try and keep in touch with them through FB.

Three hundred and one.

Some people FB Friend me through my blog - which is ok. I mean, I put the link there, right? But it's weird to me when people I don't even recognize ask to friend me and say they found me through my blog. So, what? Are you just amassing friends through any means possible? Or maybe you just read my blog and never comment so I had no clue you were there in the first place? It's a risk I run, I suppose. My FB page is my personal page not a blog Fan page so I guess it's just kinda weird to me that I have "friends" that I don't even know.

I've looked up the ex-boyfriends. I've apologized to people that I've wronged. I've reconnected with friends I lost touch with. I keep up with friends and family. All in all, Facebook has been good to me.

I just wonder why I still have 301 friends listed when, really, I only talk to 30 or so? Do people wonder why I've friended them, as well? (Friend is a verb now, dontcha know?) Am I a FB Friend hoarder?

Why are you friends with everyone on your FB friend list? Do you actually talk to them all? Are there people on there that you don't even KNOW?

What happened in 1975?

What was life like 35 years ago?

The top song was:



Who knew that Captain and Tenille were such profound philosophers?!

Know what movies people were seeing in 1975?



and



Bestselling book of 1975?



Watergate exploded.

Vietnam was in full swing.

Hoffa went missing.

Bruce Springsteen released Born to Run.

The Sex Pistols played their first show.

The Jeffersons debuted.

Saturday Night Live debuted.

Oh, yeah - and I was born in 1975. April 22nd, to be exact. (That's, uh, today.)

That's the day the world REALLY changed.

I mean, right? I came into this world and it was like the world was bathed in a warm ray of light. Laughter was heard and peace was felt. The planets were aligned and there was harmony in the universe. (Except for that Vietnam stuff, obviously.)

You know, I do what I can.

*wink*

What to do?

Say you're cleaning the bathroom and you suddenly have to pee. Do you clean the toilet BEFORE you pee or do you pee and THEN clean the toilet?

Do tell.

iFunny

Last night Rob was wandering around a local electronics store, killing time waiting for Cara to get out of choir. He kept texting me with all of his "great finds". I, being the mean wife responsible person that I am just kept telling him no. But I felt bad. I mean, he works hard! He works a lot! Sometimes the man just wants a new toy, is that so bad?!?! Well, yeah, when all his toys are hundreds of dollars, duh.

But I still felt bad. So I got him a surprise. Because, really, I'm an awesome wife.





He wasn't as impressed with me as I was.

Whatever. I get no respect, I tell ya.


(Yeah, I know I'm not the first person to think of it. It's still funny, yo.)

This one time? At Band Camp?

..this morning I ran upstairs to grab something while chatting with Rob. I never once looked at him. I then proceeded to open the blinds while he was standing there, full on buck (or is it butt?) nekkid for the world (or at least the neighbors) to see.

...Corban wants to marry everyone and everything. He wants to marry his brother, his sisters his daddy and me. He wants to marry the girls I watch. He wants to marry the neighbor boy. Now? He wants to marry his Thomas the Tank Engine collection. Should I be worried?

...I have a Dr's appointment today to figure out what in the world is going on with me. This nerve pain is ridiculous. Sometimes it's not bad - totally manageable. Other times I just want to stick my head up my arse and disappear. My favorite? When my entire crotch falls asleep and it feels like there's needles stabbing me intermittently. Giddy up.

...Corban loves to spray the Febreeze air freshener. After a harrowing incident last night which included him spraying every surface imaginable in the bathroom including a major puddle on the floor, I've told him he can only spray it after a poop. I should have been more specific in my instructions. Today, he pooped. And then he sprayed his poop in the toilet and the ENTIRE toilet with Febreeze Aloha Hawaiian scent.

...Cara farted this morning. While that's not funny in and of itself, Brennan's reaction sure was. He ran over and laid his head on the chair she was sitting on and tried to see her bottom while saying, "Fwah faht! Fwah faht!' Funny? Right. Well, then Cara farted again while B's head was down there. We have mad class here, yo.

...Sienna's school is doing a Silent Basket Auction fundraiser and the teacher forwarded an email from the class organizer. I really wanted to reply back and correct the spelling of the name of the basket but Rob thinks I'm crazy. And apparently that would be rude or something. The name of the basket? "Grillen & Chillen" You tell me, is there something wrong with the spelling or not?

...I'm putting together a Dave Matthews playlist for a CD I'm having Rob make me. I need 2 more songs for it to be complete. Have any suggestions??

..I turn 35 in 7 days. And I totally had to count that out on my fingers. I can't celebrate in any of the ways I had planned because there's a person living inside of me. No sky diving, no motorcycle rides, no drinking, no cruise, no, no no no no. *sigh* Guess we'll just go out for dinner.

...yesterday I was googling cookie recipes and the first recipe that came up was for pot cookies. Think the kids would like 'em?

...I have to stop and get a coffee from Holiday today. I've been wanting one and all but last night it was a major player in THREE of my dreams. Would they be considered wet dreams, then? HA!

Have a Thursday.

Seriously Profane

I'm grumpy. I need to rant and get some stuff off my chest. Feel free to join along in my comment section. You can say what you wanna say on your own blog but can't. Or you can say what you said on your blog because it's STILL bugging you. I care not.

-I am sick to death of my daughters fighting like they hate each other all. the. time. Seriously. I just want to lock them in a room and let them duke it out.

-We are getting more snow right now. Yep. 6-9 inches expected on the valley floor by tonight. Seriously? Hello? Can we just move this along, please?

-Is there any reason that laundry can't just stay completely done for ONE FREAKING DAY?? I mean, seriously! Every day there's more to do! It's never ending.

-I'm having to have a bunch of blood work and tests done because my migraine from nearly 2 weeks ago has turned into excruciating nerve pain throughout my whole body. *ring ring* Hello? Body? Get it together already! You're seriously ticking me off.

-I have been craving a Patty Melt thanks to my friend, Cyndi, for the past few months. Can I find one ANYWHERE in town?! No. Seriously? WTH?!

- I had a couple root canals in *January*. I've been waiting for flex reimbursement and haven't even received an EOB yet. Last month I started calling on it and they say they never received the claims. So my dentist refiled. Today they say they still haven't rec'd the claims. OH. MY. GOSH. Why do they do this to me EVERY FREAKING TIME?! Just process the effing claim and be done with it! I have to chase my tail just to get them to pay it every time! SERIOUSLY! Do your damn jobs!

Ok...I'll be done now. Your turn. Ready? Go.

Helpful Hint from heidi

When discussing your sex life and the frequency in which you have sex with your spouse, it is helpful to know who is in the room. There might be an 11 year old sitting, horrified, in a chair with her back to you that you don't immediately see. She is, most likely, notsomuch interested in listening to her parents discuss whether or not they had sex last weekend or not.

This has been another Helpful Hint from Heidi.

The Real Danger: Part 3 - Now What?

What do you do when your child tells you that someone has been sexually abusing them? How do you react? Where do you turn? Who do you call?

After you're done throwing up & get yourself together:

#1 - Reassure your child that they did the right thing by coming to you and that they are NOT in trouble.

#2 - Do NOT go after the accused molester by yourself. You won't do anyone any good if you end up in jail, yourself.

#3 - Call the police.

Calling the police is scary, I know, but it's necessary. This isn't something you can deal with "in house" or "between the family". It's a vicious crime and the chances are that your child has not been the only victim. The police do not, generally, come and interrogate your child. In fact, depending on the age of your child, the police don't speak to them at all. They speak to you and to the accused. Your child will be seen by a caring, compassionate, person that specializes in speaking with children that have been abused. They will use play therapy, art therapy and other kid friendly methods of "interviewing" your child.

There will be a physical exam. This exam is necessary to determine the extent of your child's abuse and if they need further medical treatment.

It will be terrible and horrifying, only because of what it all means.

You will need to get therapy for your child and your family. And yourself. You will need a safe place where you can scream and cry and say the things out loud that you can't say to anyone else. Therapy for your child is not an option, it is a necessity if you want them to heal from the abuse.

Lean on your church family - talk to your pastor.

There are support groups in many areas for parents of abused children. These support groups can be invaluable resources for what is happening and what is coming next. They can help you deal with the emotional hurricane that has just ravaged your lives. You can check with your local Victim's Advocate for where to find these resources.

Use the Victim's Advocate. They can navigate you through the legal issues as well as help you seek out resources to deal with the emotional issues. They have been trained to help you, let them.

Read a book: When Your Child Has Been Molested: A Parent's Guide to Healing and Recovery.

Remember to breathe. Take some time AWAY from dealing with the situation to remind yourselves that life DOES go on and that there are good things still out there.

Obviously this is a simplified list - if you have any specific questions, feel free to email me and I will see if I can point you in the right direction. If you are currently dealing with this and just need somewhere to dump, you can do that, too.

Know that you are not alone, even though you may feel like you are.

The Real Danger: Part 2 - "It won't happen to us"

"I would never leave my kids with someone I thought was capable of molesting them."

"I don't know anyone that is a sexual predator."

"I never leave my kids with anyone but family members."

I hate to break it to ya, but you never know who's a sexual predator and who's not. The sister you took care of growing up and played barbies with? She could be. The big brother you looked up to and always wanted to hang out with? He could be. Your favorite uncle that always took you fishing? Him, too. Your aunt? Mother? Father? Cousin? Best Friend? Significant other? They all could be, too.

You can't look at a person and know if they are a sexual predator or not. You just can't. They are not greasy perverts sitting on park benches ogling your kids, all the time. They can be baseball coaches, gymnastic coaches, teachers, youth group leaders, babysitters - no one is exempt. They look like you and me.

I'm not saying you have to assume everyone you know and love is a sexual predator, I'm saying that you just never know and that it's careless to go through life thinking that you don't know anyone that is a sexual predator.

Know what all these people have in common? They're convicted sexual predators.






1 in 7 kids is sexually abused by someone they know and trust. One in SEVEN. Do you want to risk your kids safety and well-being on those odds? Just talk to them. Tell them what to do. Tell them it isn't ok for people to do grown up things to them. Be honest.

It doesn't have to be scary or overly serious. It just has to happen at their level. And it has to happen more than once. You've got to install the updates and your kids get older. It's a conversation that never ends.

The Real Danger: Part 1

By the age of 18 one-third of all children have been sexually abused.

Every year in this country, two million children are brutally beaten or sexually abused.

Your child is 70% more likely to be hurt by a friend or family member than they are to be abducted by a stranger.

We do our children a great disservice when we only talk to them about "stranger danger". Sure, it's important to warn them about the creeps out there that want to lure them away but what do you tell them about when Uncle Sean touches them inappropriately? Or when Grandpa Joe shows them his penis? Or when Grandma Sharon requires help applying her lotion to intimate areas? Have you talked to them about that?

They know not to take candy from strangers, or to help ANYONE find their lost puppy. They know to kick and scream and bite and yell when someone they don't know snatches them. But do they know what do when someone they know, love and trust does something they're not supposed to do? How to deal with the "Don't tell your mommy or we'll get in BIG trouble!"? Or the "I'll never get to see you again if you tell daddy about this and you don't want that, do you buddy? Then who would take you to the ball games?" Do they know what to do then?

Do you?

Have you told them that it's not ok for someone to touch them where their bathing suit covers?

That it's not ok for someone to ask to be touched on an area covered by a bathing suit?

That it's not ok for someone to ask them to keep a secret from their mommy and daddy?

That sometimes "bad touch" feels good so it's confusing?

That it's NEVER their fault and they won't get into trouble?

That it's ok to tattle if someone touches them or asks to be touched?

No? Why not? What are you waiting for? You've told them to never take the candy so tell them about this. Tell them today. What're you waiting for?

It makes you uncomfortable? You don't know how to start? Your kids are too young?

Most children that are sexually molested by a friend or family member are under the age of 9.

So tell me again, what're you waiting for?

Need help? This site has good info. And the following books are great conversation starts for younger kids:

My Body is Private
The Right Touch: A Read-Aloud Story to Help Prevent Child Sexual Abuse
Your Body Belongs to You
Some Parts are Not for Sharing
I Said No! A kid-to-kid guide to keeping your private parts private

Keeping Kids Safe: A Child Sexual Abuse Prevention Manual

I wanna be on the big screen!

I'm not sure what the deal is with Rob and watching movies. It's like he needs to feel like he's actually IN the movie so he turns the sound up so loud that you can hear it two states over. And since I'm mean and won't let him watch most of his action flicks while the kids are awake, he has to watch them after everyone is in bed so you can only imagine the love I feel for the whole thing.

Last night after having spent the day fighting the lingering effects of a migraine, along with nausea - and marathon grocery shopping - I took my meds and crawled into bed. I was finally drifting off into sweet peaceful bliss when all of the sudden...

I'm under fire! Duck! Run! Cover! Holy CRAP - WHO is shooting at me?!?!

My heart racing and my pulse pounding, I realize that it's just the movie Rob is watching...downstairs in the living room. Grrrr.

I lay back down and start to drift again only to hear tires squealing and people screaming.

ARGH!

I know this is a man thing. I mean, not generalize or anything but, uh, GENERALLY this is a man thing. Women don't need for the speakers to be physically pulsing or to feel like they're right in the middle of a scene to enjoy the movie, right?

He's lucky I love him.