Geronimo!

This may be old, but it made me laugh.

There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer’s research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.

sent from a dear friend, as a part of one of those things that circulate the internet…

The adult thumb sucking, blanket carrying Linus.

So what the heck do you do with a child who puts everything, and I mean everything, in his mouth??? Shirt sleeves, shirt collars, thumb, fingers, paper, pens, pencils, play dough, toys, Legos, Magnatex, my hands, my shirt, if it’s in front of him, my knee…the list is endless. When he eats, he puts the food in his mouth, mostly with his hands no matter how much I’ve instructed to use a untensil. And then, he sorta plays with it. Kind of touches it as he eats it. It’s disgusting, and then will take it out, look at it, and put it back in. Just reveling in it. As a result, his hands are always a sticky mess, and his fingers peel from constant moisture (because he says he has to lick them, they’re sticky, he doesn’t like it). He’s 5! I’m bordering on thinking some OCD at this point! He’ll open his mouth and put it on my bum if bend over in front of him. It’s escalated in the last few weeks, after his always having a bent towards stuff in his mouth. I breastfed him for nearly a year and a half! He weaned himself, for Pete’s sake, I didn’t deprive him! We have never told him anything but go ahead, suck that thumb…in fact, once or twice, I told him I like it, because it reminds me of when he was little…no condemnation here! Whaaat the h*ll? Is there medication, or some sort of shock therapy for this?

Well, not uncle, but maybe just a little break at the ol’ laptop. I’m rewarding myself with a sitdown and list of what I’ve accomplished, not surfing and writing all morning.

In the last 3 hours:
1. Kitchen is clean
2. Downstairs bath
3. Down bath floor washed (how do kids pee behind the toilet?)
4. Downstairs dusted (mostly, at least what you can see easily)
5. TV OFF and dusted off (thank you Rae)
6. Desk dusted
7. Tree taken out to curb (so sad)
8. Toys picked up and at least moved to steps to go up
9. Dining room table cleared and scrubbed (damn playdoh)
10. And now, voila’, I can vacuum.

Also, I got the kids out from under foot with a seemingly brilliant scheme. Tell them that for every stick they pick up (we had a big storm recently) out of the yard, they get a nickle. Sorry, Mr. Tango, but we may go broke, or at least have to borrow from them for groceries. Speedreader became speed-picker-upper, and is up to about 476 sticks, Catgirl, not wanting to be undone, is gaining at 350 or so, and Blue Boy has a big ol’bucketful. At least they’re not bickering. In fact, the thought of money is making them downright jovial, cooperative and just peachy keen with eachother. Here, let me write down that new stick count for you…oh no, after you…do you need help with that wheelbarrow, sister dearest…why no, but thank you, you with that wagon?…mais non, but how about littlest brother, does he need us, pray chance? Water anyone? Moist towelette? Whassup with that? They can only join forces for the greater good of earning cash?!? Not for allowing one sane hour of peace in our home?!? Gack.

and thank you, Karin, who let me know this:

I realize there are a lot of blogs out there and it’s hard to keep track, but if you’re new, sometimes it’s best to sit back and explore the blogging world before you jump in with new ideas so as not to step on other’s toes. Bloggers are very good at protecting their friends. And I would certainly have to agree that it sounds fun, because it is fun! It’s just already being done. Hope you’ll join us.

Sit back and wait through like, 50 million blogs? What? Do I have, do you have, nothing else to do with your day than sit around combing through blogs to make sure you never duplicated one single idea, ever? Protection? Protection from what? And fun? If this is fun, I’d rather pluck my eyeballs out. And no, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be joining in. But the link is up there, if any body who should happen to stumble in here would like to. Just make sure you know whose idea it is. I googled “Flashback Friday”, and stopped counting references after like, 210, 000. Everything from “The Jesus and Mary Chain”, to a site called “blackfolk”, to some radio’s segment on Aretha Franklin, to Newsday.com replaying 80s hits…that phrase is definitely not copyrighted by bloggers alone. Especially not one blogger. I tell you what. Tonight’s disappointing exchange has been revolutionary. Never knew I’d get such a great early Christmas present. As I sit here with my husband, we suddenly, together realized, this is complete sh*t. I never meant to sign up for some ridiculous popularity contest. I never meant to give half my day to making sure I make the rounds to insure my traffic flow. I never meant to suddenly find myself so freakin wrapped up in what anyone else out there thought about what I was doing. Especially if they thought the phrase “Flashback Friday” was their own. I just wanted to write. I thought it’d be cool to meet some other women to share a bit of life with. What was a perfect opportunity for a great forum for people to share their lives has turned into a time sucking black hole. At least, much of what I’ve seen has been this way.

I’ve talked with a few great women. You know who you are. I hope to continue talking with you, through this, or by phone. But suddenly, Theresa has brought it to me so clearly, that this is not what I want to be a part of. What I hoped to enjoy has become a source of anxiety. Corndog said earlier today that he needs a break. That he had to decide whether this venture was for his good, or detriment. And I knew what he meant. I’ve had this thought niggling in the back of my brain since my children said, “No Mommy, don’t hook the computer back up!”, when our power was restored. If not before. I want to do this. But I don’t want to do it this way.

The writing doesn’t take much time. And the writing is what I want to do. What bogs me down is making sure I leave my mark with everyone. That effort is what takes the time. And I love to visit some blogs, and want to continue to do so. You, R2K, know I’ll keep coming around. And Krista, Jen, and Holly, and SmockMama, and KLee, many others. And my family and analog friends, who might like to see how the kids have gorwn. But. I’m going to remove my blogroll. Maybe my comments section. Just make it about writing for me. Because that’s all I really want to do. So that’s what I’ll concentrate on. If you feel like it, keep up what we’ve started through direct email. I’m here.

I won’t leave yet. Not that anyone’s holding their breath. But just for those who happen to check in. We, Blake and I, didn’t know it was a committment that had any outside forces at all. Just an outlet to do what I like. We’d like the blogroll not to dictate when we get to hang out, or when our children get my attention. So, thanks Theresa. You just clarified what has been wrong all along, and I just couldn’t see it, yet.

I’ll keep writing, even if anyone’s not reading. Because I like it.

You wake at 5:27 am to “get your fix” of blogging, and blogsurfing, and have a sore, cramped and slightly shaking hand and arm, up to the elbow, by 9:50 when you must stop, because the children are finally awake. I need help. But I don’t want it. I’m very happy in my addiction, thank you. But because of the intensive day of housework and some promised projects with the children ahead, I just had to get it all in before the day really got rolling. I’ve written, I’ve written some more, and I checked in on everyone. Annika is doing better. Running2ks has already posted fine art, and Fair Dinkum is finally clean. Now I can go on to other things, for a bit. Besides, I’m starting to be unable to type.

To Running2Ks, who helped me very selflessly make the move from blogger to blogsome. While some accessorizing remains to be done, the biggest boxes are unpacked, and kitchen workable. I find the walls a bit bland, and will be looking into paint colors, also. I want to add how bizarre it is to put a voice with the author of one of these blogs! To hear a child in the background that you’ve viewed by photo, over and over…R2K took a couple of phone calls from me, and walked this technomoron through, baby step by baby step. I like my new place much better…Thanks!

P.S. I’m not the one with the accent… ; )