Unstopable dreamer
Today we decided to outsmart them. We didn't open the garage doors while we were fixing things inside. It almost worked... at 7:30 we hear this banging on the door. My first instinct was to ignore it; come on! If you're gonna knock, at least knock, don't bang! Not to mention we do have a doorbell, very much like a regular doorbell, it's not like you don't know what that round button with a yellow light does. But I digress...
I'm still in the garage putting more things up, and determined that I will not give in, no siree. It's my sale and my house, and I'll have it my way... until I realize that we already sold the house, and we'll have to replace the door if we don't stop that insane banging. So I go and peek outside, and see a lady that was here yesterday already...a returning hawk! There's four types after all, I think to myself.
When she sees me she yells: "Are you open yet?" Like I'm some kind of retail store.
"No", I say. We open the store at 9:00".
"But I have to go to work!"
:
OK, I think, glancing at the driveway and spotting about a dozen hands waving at me. Who am I kidding? They win, they always win. So much for our ingenious plan...I smile a half faked smile and open the garage doors, or should I say, my little store. I know they have money and want to buy, and I want their money, so, let them flood your house for goodness sake!
The day went pretty much like yesterday's, except for this one returning hawk. I lost count of how many times she came in and tried to buy a silly five cent nick nack for half the price. There was a time that another lady was asking me the price for my nice clothes hamper. I was sure I marked all my stuff; but sure enough, the price tag wasn't there. I told her it was ten dollars, and that the sticker probably felt on he floor or something... until I heard my favorite hawk at the check out register with a nice battery charger displaying a shine pink ten dollar sticker. My husband labels all "his" type of stuff, so he knew I would never put a price on anything that I don't know what it is. He looked at me, I looked at him, we looked at the clothes hamper... and he says:"I't 30 dollars, m'am." "Thirty!?" replies the innocent voice. "Yes, I remember labeling that with a green sticker that read $30.00. I'm sorry, someone put this wrong tag in here".
Oh, dog'gon'it. She couldn't afford that, so back it went to the table.
She came back a couple more times, and the last time she brought her daughter to look at my little boy's bedroom set. The daughter really liked it, but even at the ridiculous price we're selling stuff for, she couldn't afford it. But what are moms for, if not to help their children? My sweet lady quickly jumps to the rescue, and tells her daughter she'll help with a $100.00 check. Hmmmm... a check... ok, sure.
They call someone to bring a truck and haul the stuff out, and my husband suddenly needs to go "out". He goes by the bank and asks the teller if the check will clear... "It will if you cash it now, sir, there'll be only a couple of dollars left on that account if you do it now. I'm not sure it will clear by Monday if you wait".
So he comes back home, cash in his pocket, and helps them load up the truck with a smile on his face.
Ahhhh...all is well when it ends well...
But it hasn't ended yet. We'll be out there again tomorrow, and goodness, a Saturday, can't wait! My hawk promised to come back to look at some more stuff... a friend of mine will be helping us out. Hopefully, almost everything will be gone, and we can donate the rest to the salvation army.
Tomorrow promises to be a nice, hot, humid day. We're all ready with the gatorades in the refrigerator, and of course, the alarm clock set up for 5:00 a.m. After all, it's the weekend, and the store needs to open earlier to accomodate the needs of or faithful clients.
Calgon, take me away!...
Music boxes
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Yard sales and hawks
We all love them. We go hunting for bargains, and get so excited when we find just what we were looking for, for less than we would ever think paying. I love yard sales; it doesn't matter if they're in the yard, driveway, garage, who cares. This is a great way to find tresures .
I thought it would be as fun to have our own big moving sale. Ya know, when you go shopping at these you always see the people sitting down in comfy chairs, talking and eating MacDonalds chicken biscuits. What a great time to relax! Right? WRONG! yard sales are a big ordeal. Especially if you want to sell all the furniture in your house and all the millions of toys you never dreamed your children had, until you actually get them out.
We had people from Church and other friends come in before the ad ran in the paper. That was good, we sold a lot like that. But after that, well, let's see... 12 straight hours sorting through all you have and dividing into piles. 12 more hours bringing the stuff down, and another 12 putting them where they should go, and labeling. Ohhhh... labeling... what fun...
Then comes the great day; and after those 36 hours of work, (which if we combine them with my husband's 36, they'te really 72), we're ready to sit down and see some money coming in while relaxing.
This is where the hawks come in the picture.
I've found out there's 3 groups of hawks.
First, the early birds. They get up at 6: 00 am and read the paper while drinking their coffee. At 6:30 they're calling each other, and deciding to come at the same time... well, just for the fun. I can picture them laughing at the idea. The paper says, 9:00. But they have selective reading. They're all here at 7:00. I almost see them wink at each other. They flood the house, and we start to panick! I'm not ready yet!!! But they don't care. These type of hawks go through each station of the house at the same time; like, they all want dishes at the same time, so there I am wrapping fragile stuff franticly. They then go to the basememt, and all want the tools at the same time, and there's my husband taking care of them all. They also can't read signs like "do not open cabinets", or "SOLD" on pieces of furniture. "m'am, is that leaf table for sale?" huh... "it was sir, but it's SOLD, like the sign says!"
By now I'm on the phone with mother in law. "Please come help us!!!!!" But sure enough, when she gets here, the hawks are gone. Mother and father in law bring us the famous MacDonald's chicken biscuits, and hang out for a couple of hours. Nothing. Not a living soul. That's when father in law decides to leave, assuring us that the crowd will be here Saturday, not to dispair. I just give him the look, and let them go. Five minutes later, there they are again...
...the late birds. They were all hidding to see when our help was leaving, and as they see them drive away, they whistle the secret whistle and come in marching down the driveway. The late hawks are tricky. This lady was buying a tin can that she "LOVED" for 25 cents. Good. What I didn't know when I marked it, was that the can was full of pennies, probably 4 bucks worth. She insists that she didn't see the money, she really just like the can. OK, lady, you can take the can, but the pennies stay. All of the sudden, the can is not as cute anymore. It goes back where it was found.
Then there's the other older lady buying children's book's, 25 cents each. And what do you know? She finds my "Childrens song book" from church, who was NOT cheap at all, and there she goes with it for 25 cents....
We need to watch these hawks like hawks!
The third group is the one where everyone comes looking for the same thing. They want a chest of drawers... they're all gone, I'm sorry. After 15 people ask for that, they all want the same table. And then they all want the same bookshelf, and then the washer and dryer.
I believe this third group is the worst; they totally drive us nuts. I think they're out there with a mission... to make us insane, at a time of the day that we are ready to colapse.
Oh, how fun it is to see our sweet home invaded by alliens; they come in flocks, they leave in flocks...
And so here we are, trying to make the house presentable for the next crowd tomorrow. We're full of energy, as you can image. We're looking forward to it...
One day down, two more to go...
Oy! Can hardly wait for hawk invasion, part 2.
I thought it would be as fun to have our own big moving sale. Ya know, when you go shopping at these you always see the people sitting down in comfy chairs, talking and eating MacDonalds chicken biscuits. What a great time to relax! Right? WRONG! yard sales are a big ordeal. Especially if you want to sell all the furniture in your house and all the millions of toys you never dreamed your children had, until you actually get them out.
We had people from Church and other friends come in before the ad ran in the paper. That was good, we sold a lot like that. But after that, well, let's see... 12 straight hours sorting through all you have and dividing into piles. 12 more hours bringing the stuff down, and another 12 putting them where they should go, and labeling. Ohhhh... labeling... what fun...
Then comes the great day; and after those 36 hours of work, (which if we combine them with my husband's 36, they'te really 72), we're ready to sit down and see some money coming in while relaxing.
This is where the hawks come in the picture.
I've found out there's 3 groups of hawks.
First, the early birds. They get up at 6: 00 am and read the paper while drinking their coffee. At 6:30 they're calling each other, and deciding to come at the same time... well, just for the fun. I can picture them laughing at the idea. The paper says, 9:00. But they have selective reading. They're all here at 7:00. I almost see them wink at each other. They flood the house, and we start to panick! I'm not ready yet!!! But they don't care. These type of hawks go through each station of the house at the same time; like, they all want dishes at the same time, so there I am wrapping fragile stuff franticly. They then go to the basememt, and all want the tools at the same time, and there's my husband taking care of them all. They also can't read signs like "do not open cabinets", or "SOLD" on pieces of furniture. "m'am, is that leaf table for sale?" huh... "it was sir, but it's SOLD, like the sign says!"
By now I'm on the phone with mother in law. "Please come help us!!!!!" But sure enough, when she gets here, the hawks are gone. Mother and father in law bring us the famous MacDonald's chicken biscuits, and hang out for a couple of hours. Nothing. Not a living soul. That's when father in law decides to leave, assuring us that the crowd will be here Saturday, not to dispair. I just give him the look, and let them go. Five minutes later, there they are again...
...the late birds. They were all hidding to see when our help was leaving, and as they see them drive away, they whistle the secret whistle and come in marching down the driveway. The late hawks are tricky. This lady was buying a tin can that she "LOVED" for 25 cents. Good. What I didn't know when I marked it, was that the can was full of pennies, probably 4 bucks worth. She insists that she didn't see the money, she really just like the can. OK, lady, you can take the can, but the pennies stay. All of the sudden, the can is not as cute anymore. It goes back where it was found.
Then there's the other older lady buying children's book's, 25 cents each. And what do you know? She finds my "Childrens song book" from church, who was NOT cheap at all, and there she goes with it for 25 cents....
We need to watch these hawks like hawks!
The third group is the one where everyone comes looking for the same thing. They want a chest of drawers... they're all gone, I'm sorry. After 15 people ask for that, they all want the same table. And then they all want the same bookshelf, and then the washer and dryer.
I believe this third group is the worst; they totally drive us nuts. I think they're out there with a mission... to make us insane, at a time of the day that we are ready to colapse.
Oh, how fun it is to see our sweet home invaded by alliens; they come in flocks, they leave in flocks...
And so here we are, trying to make the house presentable for the next crowd tomorrow. We're full of energy, as you can image. We're looking forward to it...
One day down, two more to go...
Oy! Can hardly wait for hawk invasion, part 2.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Panick
Unstopable dreamer
We are closing on our house in 3 weeks. Time just creeps on us like that, and before we know it, Boom!
I still have tons of boxes to pack, donate a lot of stuff, and prepare for an estate sale we'll have before the closing on the house. We decided to sell everything and start from scratch there. The main reason being, we can't take any electronics with us, since they have a new system there and everything that needs to be plugged, won't work there.
So, we are mailing our books, winter clothes and photo albums, and that will be all we'll have when we get there. I'm excited; it will be fun to go and look for a new bed, new cute covers for the kids, utensils, all the basic stuff. It will be fun to eat on the floor again. We really are excited about being there! It's the GETTING there that is setting all this panick in me. There's so much to be done in this house, I feel like a chicken with her head cut off, running and running without knowing where to go and what to do first. I'm still boxing clothes and books; I need to go to UPS and have them package and mail a couple of picture frames I want to take. Then the estate sale... labeling all the stuff will be a lot of work! We have gotten lots of people that want to help, but I need to get organized so I'll know what they can do and what I need to do myself. After that, the cleaning the house will actually be ok, since we have a wonderful circle of friends.
I also worry about the kids when we get to Portugal; they will be fine, they know the language and love my family, but it's the school that worries me. My daughter can speak fluently, but can she go to third grade and be at the same level as the other kids? She'll have to read a lot, and her spelling won't be good. She is a smart cookie, she was a star student, averaging 98% in second grade. But it will be tough in the beginning. I need to go and find her a good school.
I'm excited, scared, happy, concerned, all at the same time. This was such a quick decision, one that shocked a lot of people, including us. I could never even begin to imagine to leave the US; we have the best school system, our schools here are on the top 1% nationwide. We have a wonderful branch at church, family and friends, a beautiful home and the best doctors that help my daughter with her Tourette's. I can't explain why we're doing it. I can only say that we heard a voice and are following it. This explanation is not enough for most people, but that's all we have. Who was it that said once, "when God speaks and a man obeys, that man will always be right". That's what we are doing, and we have peace and are happy.
I will miss living here, of course I will! When I look at the walls that I painted, the stenceling on the kids' rooms, the curtains I made for each room in the house, the furniture I recovered, the garden I planted, the frames that I carefully hung on the walls... And I think about the day we got a new dryer, then the couches... the day we went shopping for bunkbeds for my daughter... and the day we got the furniture for our big boy's bedroom... I can still remember when I got little silly things like a nice rubber spatula from pampered cheff. Everything has a memory. Yes, it will be hard, and it will be heart wrenching to say goodbye to the people at church, friends and family. I'm dreading that day, but it's getting close...
But we are so looking forward to start over, so excited to be close to my family, and in the Country where I was born and raised, which I dearly love!... We are happy! And we are doing what is right.
And to all of you that once said, "we would love to go to Portugal someday", there you have it!
Now you'll have a place to stay! :)
We are closing on our house in 3 weeks. Time just creeps on us like that, and before we know it, Boom!
I still have tons of boxes to pack, donate a lot of stuff, and prepare for an estate sale we'll have before the closing on the house. We decided to sell everything and start from scratch there. The main reason being, we can't take any electronics with us, since they have a new system there and everything that needs to be plugged, won't work there.
So, we are mailing our books, winter clothes and photo albums, and that will be all we'll have when we get there. I'm excited; it will be fun to go and look for a new bed, new cute covers for the kids, utensils, all the basic stuff. It will be fun to eat on the floor again. We really are excited about being there! It's the GETTING there that is setting all this panick in me. There's so much to be done in this house, I feel like a chicken with her head cut off, running and running without knowing where to go and what to do first. I'm still boxing clothes and books; I need to go to UPS and have them package and mail a couple of picture frames I want to take. Then the estate sale... labeling all the stuff will be a lot of work! We have gotten lots of people that want to help, but I need to get organized so I'll know what they can do and what I need to do myself. After that, the cleaning the house will actually be ok, since we have a wonderful circle of friends.
I also worry about the kids when we get to Portugal; they will be fine, they know the language and love my family, but it's the school that worries me. My daughter can speak fluently, but can she go to third grade and be at the same level as the other kids? She'll have to read a lot, and her spelling won't be good. She is a smart cookie, she was a star student, averaging 98% in second grade. But it will be tough in the beginning. I need to go and find her a good school.
I'm excited, scared, happy, concerned, all at the same time. This was such a quick decision, one that shocked a lot of people, including us. I could never even begin to imagine to leave the US; we have the best school system, our schools here are on the top 1% nationwide. We have a wonderful branch at church, family and friends, a beautiful home and the best doctors that help my daughter with her Tourette's. I can't explain why we're doing it. I can only say that we heard a voice and are following it. This explanation is not enough for most people, but that's all we have. Who was it that said once, "when God speaks and a man obeys, that man will always be right". That's what we are doing, and we have peace and are happy.
I will miss living here, of course I will! When I look at the walls that I painted, the stenceling on the kids' rooms, the curtains I made for each room in the house, the furniture I recovered, the garden I planted, the frames that I carefully hung on the walls... And I think about the day we got a new dryer, then the couches... the day we went shopping for bunkbeds for my daughter... and the day we got the furniture for our big boy's bedroom... I can still remember when I got little silly things like a nice rubber spatula from pampered cheff. Everything has a memory. Yes, it will be hard, and it will be heart wrenching to say goodbye to the people at church, friends and family. I'm dreading that day, but it's getting close...
But we are so looking forward to start over, so excited to be close to my family, and in the Country where I was born and raised, which I dearly love!... We are happy! And we are doing what is right.
And to all of you that once said, "we would love to go to Portugal someday", there you have it!
Now you'll have a place to stay! :)
Monday, June 05, 2006
Great!
Unstopable dreamer
I wrote this huge blog a while ago and it vanished in cyberspace. Gotta love it when that happens!
The very small version, we are moving to Portugal by the end of July. It's been a busy couple of months, spiritual and emotional draining.
We're excited! I'll get back to you when I have more time, and hoppefuly I'll remember to SAVE what I write before I try to publish, huh?
:p
I wrote this huge blog a while ago and it vanished in cyberspace. Gotta love it when that happens!
The very small version, we are moving to Portugal by the end of July. It's been a busy couple of months, spiritual and emotional draining.
We're excited! I'll get back to you when I have more time, and hoppefuly I'll remember to SAVE what I write before I try to publish, huh?
:p
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
And that, my friends, is why I don't have pets.
Unstopable dreamer
My daughter and I have reached an agreement about pets a long time ago. She was three years old then, she's 8 now, but she still remembers everything very well. She wanted a horse; I said she could have one, when she was 26 and if she was married. Agreed. Then she wanted a dog; I told her she can have a dog at 18 when she moves to college, and the dog goes with her. Also agreed. After that came the kitty cat conversation; we decided that when she's 16 she can have one; by then I'm assuming she'll be able to care for the cat. Finally came the goldfish. Ok, you can have a goldfish when you're 8! Somehow, when you kids are 3 years old, 8 seems like a very long time, I mean, come on, she'll be baptized! My daughter, baptized!? That's a loooong way off! So, every dear wish would be put off until she turned 8. Including a complete room makeover and the so dreamed of trip to Disneyworld. Well, guess what? She's eight. I just closed my eyes and when I woke up she had grown!
Her first choice was the room makeover, so we did that for her birthday. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it. In fact, it turned out so cute that she never mentioned the other things again... until last week, when her 2nd grade teacher offered a goldfish to all the kids, with parent's permission of course. Right, like I can say no! There's no choice. She comes home with three little goldfish, beaming with excitment. Right away, I went online and became familiar with the fish, got everything they needed, and off they go in a cute tank.
OK, you may be thinking I don't like pets. Wrong. Just the opposite. I don't have them because I love them. Not making sense? Well, there I was last week watching the fish as if I was watching TV. Even my daughter got bored, but not me! I pulled up a chair, sat down and watch them swim, fascinated with every move. I learned that fish poop like we do. You should see my cry of excitment when I saw them do it, I called the whole family to come and marvel at the sight. I'm serious now; if you haven't seen a fish poop, something is missing in your life.
So, TV, computer, housechores, everything took the backseat. Watching the fish swim, eat and poop took priority in my life. Until 3 days later, when I realize one of them is not eating, and is acting weird. I yell at it to go and eat, but he doesn't, and I know something is terribly wrong. Sure enough, we find him floating the next morning. The same happened to another one the next day; by now, my daughter is quite sad but I am completely going crazy! I run to the pet store and gather all the info I need, what I did wrong, etc... the lady's conclusion? Well, sometimes fish just die. What? That's it? I did everything right and they still died?
I'm a nutcase by now. I buy 2 more fish, only these come with a warranty, if they die withing 2 weeks, I can replace them for free. But seriously, how do you replace a pet you love? I'm reading these words and realizing this is me talking! Not the little old lady that knits sweaters for her little dog and loves him like a child. This is ME!
So now you know why I don't let my kids have a kitty or a puppy. I'm really not a bad mom. It's just that if I'm like this with a creature that does nothing and I can't even touch, imagine me with another pet, I'd go bananas.
Now you know that I don't have pets because I love them. yup. I love them too much.
Gotta go now. My 4 year old is crying for me because he's hungry; gotta go make him lunch.
But not before I check on the fish.
My daughter and I have reached an agreement about pets a long time ago. She was three years old then, she's 8 now, but she still remembers everything very well. She wanted a horse; I said she could have one, when she was 26 and if she was married. Agreed. Then she wanted a dog; I told her she can have a dog at 18 when she moves to college, and the dog goes with her. Also agreed. After that came the kitty cat conversation; we decided that when she's 16 she can have one; by then I'm assuming she'll be able to care for the cat. Finally came the goldfish. Ok, you can have a goldfish when you're 8! Somehow, when you kids are 3 years old, 8 seems like a very long time, I mean, come on, she'll be baptized! My daughter, baptized!? That's a loooong way off! So, every dear wish would be put off until she turned 8. Including a complete room makeover and the so dreamed of trip to Disneyworld. Well, guess what? She's eight. I just closed my eyes and when I woke up she had grown!
Her first choice was the room makeover, so we did that for her birthday. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it. In fact, it turned out so cute that she never mentioned the other things again... until last week, when her 2nd grade teacher offered a goldfish to all the kids, with parent's permission of course. Right, like I can say no! There's no choice. She comes home with three little goldfish, beaming with excitment. Right away, I went online and became familiar with the fish, got everything they needed, and off they go in a cute tank.
OK, you may be thinking I don't like pets. Wrong. Just the opposite. I don't have them because I love them. Not making sense? Well, there I was last week watching the fish as if I was watching TV. Even my daughter got bored, but not me! I pulled up a chair, sat down and watch them swim, fascinated with every move. I learned that fish poop like we do. You should see my cry of excitment when I saw them do it, I called the whole family to come and marvel at the sight. I'm serious now; if you haven't seen a fish poop, something is missing in your life.
So, TV, computer, housechores, everything took the backseat. Watching the fish swim, eat and poop took priority in my life. Until 3 days later, when I realize one of them is not eating, and is acting weird. I yell at it to go and eat, but he doesn't, and I know something is terribly wrong. Sure enough, we find him floating the next morning. The same happened to another one the next day; by now, my daughter is quite sad but I am completely going crazy! I run to the pet store and gather all the info I need, what I did wrong, etc... the lady's conclusion? Well, sometimes fish just die. What? That's it? I did everything right and they still died?
I'm a nutcase by now. I buy 2 more fish, only these come with a warranty, if they die withing 2 weeks, I can replace them for free. But seriously, how do you replace a pet you love? I'm reading these words and realizing this is me talking! Not the little old lady that knits sweaters for her little dog and loves him like a child. This is ME!
So now you know why I don't let my kids have a kitty or a puppy. I'm really not a bad mom. It's just that if I'm like this with a creature that does nothing and I can't even touch, imagine me with another pet, I'd go bananas.
Now you know that I don't have pets because I love them. yup. I love them too much.
Gotta go now. My 4 year old is crying for me because he's hungry; gotta go make him lunch.
But not before I check on the fish.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
I'm here...
Unstopable dreamer
I'll come back later with more time to fill you in on what's going on around here!
I'll come back later with more time to fill you in on what's going on around here!
Friday, April 14, 2006
On hold for a little while
Unstopable dreamer
I'm having some personal issues that need to be resolved, and the internet is taking the back seat for a while in my life.
I will return when I have things figured out.
I'll miss you!
I'm having some personal issues that need to be resolved, and the internet is taking the back seat for a while in my life.
I will return when I have things figured out.
I'll miss you!
Monday, March 27, 2006
did you know....
Unstopable dreamer
...that the Eiffel Tower is light brown and not gray as I thought? :p
I'm in Europe right night, came with my girl to my niece's wedding. We had a loooong layover in Paris, 8 hours, so we got on a bus and got to see the Tower. It was cold and rainy, but still got our noses out to take a pic. It's fabulous!
Anyway, just in case you were wondering what color it was, now ya know, lol...
We are having a fabulous time here.
I'll tell you all about it when I come back! :)
...that the Eiffel Tower is light brown and not gray as I thought? :p
I'm in Europe right night, came with my girl to my niece's wedding. We had a loooong layover in Paris, 8 hours, so we got on a bus and got to see the Tower. It was cold and rainy, but still got our noses out to take a pic. It's fabulous!
Anyway, just in case you were wondering what color it was, now ya know, lol...
We are having a fabulous time here.
I'll tell you all about it when I come back! :)
Monday, March 20, 2006
"Miracle workers"
Unstopable dreamer
For a long time now I've had mix feelings about "feel good" reality TV. Like extreme makeovers, or giving away cars and houses and all kind of nice things to people in need. Don't get me wrong; I'm happy for those who receive these blessings. It's just that I think about other people that also need things, maybe more than the ones on TV, but no one notices, and let's face it, they can't help everyone. Take for instance: the other day I was watching "Regis and Kelly" and they had this wonderful thing they were doing for a family in New Orleans. I was so happy for them, I was seriously crying. But then I think; how many people from New Orleans are watching this now? How many of them needed this even more? And how, please tell me, how do they feel watching this? Are they happy for the others? 'Cause it isn't fair if we balance things like this.
But you know, since I was never in that situation, I was never "the other one" watching and not receiving. I have a house; I have food to eat; I don't need a nose job. So I always wondered... until last week.
"Miracle Workers" is a new show on Monday nights where doctors and specialists do extreme life changing surgeries and treatments for people that have already lost hope. They made a lady walk the other night, and a blind man see. It's an amazing show.
Last week's episode brought reality TV to my reality. I saw a teennage girl with severe Tourette Syndrome. She could not control her tics, she kept slapping her head and face and doing all kinds of strange things. If I was watching that behavior for the first time in my life, I would have thought she was really weird. But I didn't, because my eight year old daughter has the same illness.
I looked at the girl and saw my daughter in a few years. Right now her tics are somewhat under control, medecine and therapy are helping a lot. Our neurologist has warned us though, it will get worse during her teenage years. How worse? No one can predict. Only time will tell.
And so I watched this girl... watched her shaving her head for the surgery, trying on some wigs... then I watched the actual surgery, where she had to be awake in order to tell where exactly the electrode was going to be placed. They found the spot. Just to be sure, they increased the voltage and her tics started to get worse and worse until I yelled at them to stop it already, you're torturing that girl! But they had to do it to make sure it was the right spot. It was. And just like that, as the voltage started adjusting, I saw her face go back to normal... no eye blinking, no nose and mouth twiching, no jerks of any kind. I saw a miracle happen before my eyes. And I was crying... I thought about my daughter and how uncertain her future behavior is... but I wasn't crying because of that; I was crying of happiness. Because I knew. I knew exactly how that mother felt during this whole ordeal. I was finally in a place where I could look and think, how, this is me! I know exactly what they are going through!
And it was that happiness that made me cry; because I knew that the suffering was gone, not for me, but for one that felt like me... and that felt good.
I don't wonder anymore. I'm grateful for the people that get relief and the help they need.
Who cares if they're just doing a show to get viewers to watch and earn millions themselves... They are performing a miracle to someone.
And that, to me, is enough.
For a long time now I've had mix feelings about "feel good" reality TV. Like extreme makeovers, or giving away cars and houses and all kind of nice things to people in need. Don't get me wrong; I'm happy for those who receive these blessings. It's just that I think about other people that also need things, maybe more than the ones on TV, but no one notices, and let's face it, they can't help everyone. Take for instance: the other day I was watching "Regis and Kelly" and they had this wonderful thing they were doing for a family in New Orleans. I was so happy for them, I was seriously crying. But then I think; how many people from New Orleans are watching this now? How many of them needed this even more? And how, please tell me, how do they feel watching this? Are they happy for the others? 'Cause it isn't fair if we balance things like this.
But you know, since I was never in that situation, I was never "the other one" watching and not receiving. I have a house; I have food to eat; I don't need a nose job. So I always wondered... until last week.
"Miracle Workers" is a new show on Monday nights where doctors and specialists do extreme life changing surgeries and treatments for people that have already lost hope. They made a lady walk the other night, and a blind man see. It's an amazing show.
Last week's episode brought reality TV to my reality. I saw a teennage girl with severe Tourette Syndrome. She could not control her tics, she kept slapping her head and face and doing all kinds of strange things. If I was watching that behavior for the first time in my life, I would have thought she was really weird. But I didn't, because my eight year old daughter has the same illness.
I looked at the girl and saw my daughter in a few years. Right now her tics are somewhat under control, medecine and therapy are helping a lot. Our neurologist has warned us though, it will get worse during her teenage years. How worse? No one can predict. Only time will tell.
And so I watched this girl... watched her shaving her head for the surgery, trying on some wigs... then I watched the actual surgery, where she had to be awake in order to tell where exactly the electrode was going to be placed. They found the spot. Just to be sure, they increased the voltage and her tics started to get worse and worse until I yelled at them to stop it already, you're torturing that girl! But they had to do it to make sure it was the right spot. It was. And just like that, as the voltage started adjusting, I saw her face go back to normal... no eye blinking, no nose and mouth twiching, no jerks of any kind. I saw a miracle happen before my eyes. And I was crying... I thought about my daughter and how uncertain her future behavior is... but I wasn't crying because of that; I was crying of happiness. Because I knew. I knew exactly how that mother felt during this whole ordeal. I was finally in a place where I could look and think, how, this is me! I know exactly what they are going through!
And it was that happiness that made me cry; because I knew that the suffering was gone, not for me, but for one that felt like me... and that felt good.
I don't wonder anymore. I'm grateful for the people that get relief and the help they need.
Who cares if they're just doing a show to get viewers to watch and earn millions themselves... They are performing a miracle to someone.
And that, to me, is enough.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Way to go, honey!
Unstopable dreamer
I have an 8 year old little girl that's in second grade and is a smart cookie, as we like to call her. Her weekly quizes average 97/98, she's that good. I actually think she'd do 100's all the way if she wasn't so easily distracted, but I'm not complaining about that, lol, she's awesome and we're very proud of her.
Last Friday she did exceptionaly well, though. She came home with a 100 on the math test, 100 on the reading test (The only one in her class of 21 students to get 100, she made sure we understood that!...) and a practize reading quiz where she got 9 out of 10 correct. This last one would normally be an a ok, but since this book she took a test on was a level 4.8, that meant A LOT for a second grader! Oh, and the spelling test, like usual, 105, counting the extra credit words.
Aaaaanyway... she was so excited, and I, of course, made a big deal out of it because, well, because I'm a mom, that's why.
When my husband got home, she ran to him to show him the work of a little genious... daddy was very happy as well... maybe a little too happy, 'cause he couldn't get over it and wanted to know what she did different that day to get such awesome grades. (you see, if you ask me, I'll tell you that since she's already a good student, "luck" was what brought this all up). But no, he wanted to know, and made her think of something she might have done differently.
I think in the back of his mind he was hoping she'd say "I paid more attention", or something of the sort. You know, dads are always looking for ways to teach the children a lesson or two on the hardships of life, and how we can better ourselves when we do our part.
After thinking for a bit, she finally remembered something.
"Oh, you're right, daddy! There WAS something different! I didn't study yesterday!"
Oy!
Thanks dear.
I have an 8 year old little girl that's in second grade and is a smart cookie, as we like to call her. Her weekly quizes average 97/98, she's that good. I actually think she'd do 100's all the way if she wasn't so easily distracted, but I'm not complaining about that, lol, she's awesome and we're very proud of her.
Last Friday she did exceptionaly well, though. She came home with a 100 on the math test, 100 on the reading test (The only one in her class of 21 students to get 100, she made sure we understood that!...) and a practize reading quiz where she got 9 out of 10 correct. This last one would normally be an a ok, but since this book she took a test on was a level 4.8, that meant A LOT for a second grader! Oh, and the spelling test, like usual, 105, counting the extra credit words.
Aaaaanyway... she was so excited, and I, of course, made a big deal out of it because, well, because I'm a mom, that's why.
When my husband got home, she ran to him to show him the work of a little genious... daddy was very happy as well... maybe a little too happy, 'cause he couldn't get over it and wanted to know what she did different that day to get such awesome grades. (you see, if you ask me, I'll tell you that since she's already a good student, "luck" was what brought this all up). But no, he wanted to know, and made her think of something she might have done differently.
I think in the back of his mind he was hoping she'd say "I paid more attention", or something of the sort. You know, dads are always looking for ways to teach the children a lesson or two on the hardships of life, and how we can better ourselves when we do our part.
After thinking for a bit, she finally remembered something.
"Oh, you're right, daddy! There WAS something different! I didn't study yesterday!"
Oy!
Thanks dear.
Friday, March 10, 2006
How do you lose a friend?
I have four people in my life that I know for certain would do anything for me. Unfortunatly, they don't leave near me; I still count them as my true angels though, because I know they love me unconditionally, and I can always count on them.
But there's a part of me that aches for a friend like that who lives close to me; one that could come as soon as I called her crying, one that I wouldn't be afraid to just drop by and stay a while and just be there. It's the physical contact, I guess, the hugs, the shoulder, the tears she would let me cry.
Ever since I moved here, over 8 years ago, the search has been on for "THE" friend. Funny thing is, I was certain I had find her, well, let's see... at least 5 times. We become good friends, share secrets, I get all excited, and then, poof! She's gone. Our conversations aren't as personal, she doesn't return my calls, she's tired and busy with other things, and I'm left to wonder what I did wrong. I'm hurt for a while, then someone else comes along, and the story repeats itself all over again.
What is it? How do we lose friends like that? I can only thing of 2 reasons; one, there's something wrong with me, or two, she was never my true friend to begin with (this one hurts a lot more).
Anyway... As I was thinking about these things today, the lyrics of a favorite song popped into my mind. I couldn't describe to you how I feel today if it wasn't for this song; it really says it all.
"I can't do everything.
I know, because I tried;
I told myself I could,
and then found out I lied...
I believed with all my heart
that I could do it all...
But I can't do everything,
and when I try, I fall.
I can't please everyone.
I know, because I tried.
I needed their love so much,
Sometimes I compromised...
But the more I live and learn,
the more I plainly see
that I can't please anyone,
until I'm pleased with me."
But there's a part of me that aches for a friend like that who lives close to me; one that could come as soon as I called her crying, one that I wouldn't be afraid to just drop by and stay a while and just be there. It's the physical contact, I guess, the hugs, the shoulder, the tears she would let me cry.
Ever since I moved here, over 8 years ago, the search has been on for "THE" friend. Funny thing is, I was certain I had find her, well, let's see... at least 5 times. We become good friends, share secrets, I get all excited, and then, poof! She's gone. Our conversations aren't as personal, she doesn't return my calls, she's tired and busy with other things, and I'm left to wonder what I did wrong. I'm hurt for a while, then someone else comes along, and the story repeats itself all over again.
What is it? How do we lose friends like that? I can only thing of 2 reasons; one, there's something wrong with me, or two, she was never my true friend to begin with (this one hurts a lot more).
Anyway... As I was thinking about these things today, the lyrics of a favorite song popped into my mind. I couldn't describe to you how I feel today if it wasn't for this song; it really says it all.
"I can't do everything.
I know, because I tried;
I told myself I could,
and then found out I lied...
I believed with all my heart
that I could do it all...
But I can't do everything,
and when I try, I fall.
I can't please everyone.
I know, because I tried.
I needed their love so much,
Sometimes I compromised...
But the more I live and learn,
the more I plainly see
that I can't please anyone,
until I'm pleased with me."
Monday, February 27, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
On "friendship"
Unstopable dreamer
My friend doesn't live next door to me. She doesn't pop in just to say hi or to borrow a cup of sugar. She doesn't come to my house to sit a while and just talk about everything or nothing at all.
My friend doesn't call me daily; she doesn't send me halmark cards every week saying how much she misses me and how much she'd like to be with me. Heck, she doesn't write to me at all. She doesn't tell me of her daily little frustrations and moments of joy that come with motherhood, or even womanhood for that matter. She doesn't call to ask for a recipe when she's planning a special dinner; she doesn't go to the movies with me or joins me to jog in the morning; she never comes to see me when I'm going through my most difficult trials in life.
But somehow, she's always with me.
My friend thinks of me daily; she prays for me when she kneels at night. She knows when I'm sad, she know when I'm happy; she knows when I need her the most.
My friend sends friendship vibes through her heart. She cheers me up when I'm down; she let's me know when I'm wrong; she listens to my many ramblings and complaints; she's wise without measure; she counsels me when I'm lost; she lets me know she loves me. My friend understands. My friend believes. My friend sees through my imperfections. My friend thinks I can conquer. My friend knows what I can become. My friend is my number one fan. She's my example. she's my hero. She's all I want to be when I grow up.
Our friendship was formed in Heaven and lives inside our hearts. If I never see her in this life, or if computers, telephones and the postal service cease to exist, I will never love her less, and I will always think of her everyday, and she will always be here for me.
'cause she's my friend.
My friend doesn't live next door to me. She doesn't pop in just to say hi or to borrow a cup of sugar. She doesn't come to my house to sit a while and just talk about everything or nothing at all.
My friend doesn't call me daily; she doesn't send me halmark cards every week saying how much she misses me and how much she'd like to be with me. Heck, she doesn't write to me at all. She doesn't tell me of her daily little frustrations and moments of joy that come with motherhood, or even womanhood for that matter. She doesn't call to ask for a recipe when she's planning a special dinner; she doesn't go to the movies with me or joins me to jog in the morning; she never comes to see me when I'm going through my most difficult trials in life.
But somehow, she's always with me.
My friend thinks of me daily; she prays for me when she kneels at night. She knows when I'm sad, she know when I'm happy; she knows when I need her the most.
My friend sends friendship vibes through her heart. She cheers me up when I'm down; she let's me know when I'm wrong; she listens to my many ramblings and complaints; she's wise without measure; she counsels me when I'm lost; she lets me know she loves me. My friend understands. My friend believes. My friend sees through my imperfections. My friend thinks I can conquer. My friend knows what I can become. My friend is my number one fan. She's my example. she's my hero. She's all I want to be when I grow up.
Our friendship was formed in Heaven and lives inside our hearts. If I never see her in this life, or if computers, telephones and the postal service cease to exist, I will never love her less, and I will always think of her everyday, and she will always be here for me.
'cause she's my friend.
Friday, February 10, 2006
I did it!
Unstopable dreamer
For a few months now we've had a type of infestation in our house. The stuff is everywhere. Everytime I tried to kill it, some more will appear and keeps growing everyday. My attempts to get rid of it are useless; something always happens to keep me from doing this dreadful task. Kids will throw up and beds have to be stripped down; the toilet will flood, and I have to use every towel in the house to dry the floor. It's just a big, cahotic mess.
I don't know exactly how this "plague" spreads so fast. I mean, come on, I'm a mother; I need to care for the kids, cook, clean, help them with homework, grocery shop, the list goes on and on... I don't have time for this!
But yesterday I put my foot down. I said to myself, "that's it. I will do whatever it takes to get rid of this stuff. "
I told my husband (in the nicest way I could) that he had to watch the kids. And fix dinner too, while he's at it. I was on a mission, and I meant business.
After months and months of battling with this, here I am happy to report that my kid's closets smell nice and their clothes are fresh and clean. There is not one sock on the floor or behind the washer and dryer (believe me, I checked); The laundry hampers are completely empty; my bath robe is soft and comfy and smells like Spring.
Yup, you guessed it. I finished the laundry.
I will now sit down in this state of bliss and enjoy the sweet taste of victory. I did it. I really did it!
And I have a whole hour to enjoy this feeling. A whole hour until the family gets home and starts to infestate the place again; can you believe it?
I'm good!
For a few months now we've had a type of infestation in our house. The stuff is everywhere. Everytime I tried to kill it, some more will appear and keeps growing everyday. My attempts to get rid of it are useless; something always happens to keep me from doing this dreadful task. Kids will throw up and beds have to be stripped down; the toilet will flood, and I have to use every towel in the house to dry the floor. It's just a big, cahotic mess.
I don't know exactly how this "plague" spreads so fast. I mean, come on, I'm a mother; I need to care for the kids, cook, clean, help them with homework, grocery shop, the list goes on and on... I don't have time for this!
But yesterday I put my foot down. I said to myself, "that's it. I will do whatever it takes to get rid of this stuff. "
I told my husband (in the nicest way I could) that he had to watch the kids. And fix dinner too, while he's at it. I was on a mission, and I meant business.
After months and months of battling with this, here I am happy to report that my kid's closets smell nice and their clothes are fresh and clean. There is not one sock on the floor or behind the washer and dryer (believe me, I checked); The laundry hampers are completely empty; my bath robe is soft and comfy and smells like Spring.
Yup, you guessed it. I finished the laundry.
I will now sit down in this state of bliss and enjoy the sweet taste of victory. I did it. I really did it!
And I have a whole hour to enjoy this feeling. A whole hour until the family gets home and starts to infestate the place again; can you believe it?
I'm good!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Milestones
Unstopable dreamer
I went to a bridal shower two days ago. I 've known this young lady since she was 13; now there she was, looking radiant, her cheeks about to pop from smiling. My mind took me to my own bridal shower, which was so much like this one, and I couldn't believe it's been 9 years already....
When it was time to open presents, a particular one stood out. Her mother had made this unique quilt, that came with a letter to explain the meaning behind it. Sarah started reading the letter, and I'm pretty sure everyone in the room was trying hard to hold back tears. The quilt was made from old jeans that belonged to Sarah and her fiancee. Meaning that they would both contribute to a beautiful thing. It was double stitched, meaning that they would now walk side by side. It was put together by both her mom and his mom, representing that they were both brought up by good parents who love them.
The quilt was 23 squares long, (his age), and 19 wide (her age). The backing was a beautiful soft white material, representing the pureness of the Temple they would be married in. There was also in the bag some left over yarn that was used to tie the quilt. The letter said that with time, the quilt will wear out, and will need some mending. This was a job for the two of them to do together: mend the quilt with the original beautiful white yarn.
When I came home I couldn't stop thinking about it. I guess because it's been nine years since my own shower, and I remember all the emotions that came with it. I was told then, "you'll see, when you have a child it would be the greatest thing". Having children was way in the future, but sure enough, the future came quickly and here she was, my precious little daughter. School was something that never worried because she was so young...I'll be able to enjoy her for a whole 5 years! But indeed, the time came that I sent her off to school with tears in my eyes. How does time sneak up behind us like that?
My little princess will be 8 years old in 9 days. In two weeks, she's getting baptized. The reality of this is overwhelming. She can't be growing like this! Something is wrong with the world! Please stop the madness!
As I write this I look at a picture of her in my desk. I'll never be ready to let her go... But I know the day will come, that she'll be stollen from me by a knight in shinning armour.
Her first steps, her first words, her first foods, the first time she said "I love you"... all these past things seem like they happened yesterday. Her baptism, her teenage years, college, marriage, these are things that seem so far away.... But deep inside I know it's the oppositte. It will be here before I know it.
Meanwhile I'll sing with her, I'll color, I'll listen as she speaks about her day at school, I'll kiss her goodnight in her bed when she's asleep, I'll push her on the swings and roll in the grass until we can't stand the laughter anymore.
"I'll love you forever,
I'll like for always,
As long as I'm living,
My baby you'll be."
I went to a bridal shower two days ago. I 've known this young lady since she was 13; now there she was, looking radiant, her cheeks about to pop from smiling. My mind took me to my own bridal shower, which was so much like this one, and I couldn't believe it's been 9 years already....
When it was time to open presents, a particular one stood out. Her mother had made this unique quilt, that came with a letter to explain the meaning behind it. Sarah started reading the letter, and I'm pretty sure everyone in the room was trying hard to hold back tears. The quilt was made from old jeans that belonged to Sarah and her fiancee. Meaning that they would both contribute to a beautiful thing. It was double stitched, meaning that they would now walk side by side. It was put together by both her mom and his mom, representing that they were both brought up by good parents who love them.
The quilt was 23 squares long, (his age), and 19 wide (her age). The backing was a beautiful soft white material, representing the pureness of the Temple they would be married in. There was also in the bag some left over yarn that was used to tie the quilt. The letter said that with time, the quilt will wear out, and will need some mending. This was a job for the two of them to do together: mend the quilt with the original beautiful white yarn.
When I came home I couldn't stop thinking about it. I guess because it's been nine years since my own shower, and I remember all the emotions that came with it. I was told then, "you'll see, when you have a child it would be the greatest thing". Having children was way in the future, but sure enough, the future came quickly and here she was, my precious little daughter. School was something that never worried because she was so young...I'll be able to enjoy her for a whole 5 years! But indeed, the time came that I sent her off to school with tears in my eyes. How does time sneak up behind us like that?
My little princess will be 8 years old in 9 days. In two weeks, she's getting baptized. The reality of this is overwhelming. She can't be growing like this! Something is wrong with the world! Please stop the madness!
As I write this I look at a picture of her in my desk. I'll never be ready to let her go... But I know the day will come, that she'll be stollen from me by a knight in shinning armour.
Her first steps, her first words, her first foods, the first time she said "I love you"... all these past things seem like they happened yesterday. Her baptism, her teenage years, college, marriage, these are things that seem so far away.... But deep inside I know it's the oppositte. It will be here before I know it.
Meanwhile I'll sing with her, I'll color, I'll listen as she speaks about her day at school, I'll kiss her goodnight in her bed when she's asleep, I'll push her on the swings and roll in the grass until we can't stand the laughter anymore.
"I'll love you forever,
I'll like for always,
As long as I'm living,
My baby you'll be."
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
To eat or not to eat
Unstopable dreamer
I have a picky eater at home.
You're probably nodding and thinking "me too"; but my picky eater is different. He's... funny. I know a mother shouldn't think that her child that doesn't eat is funny, but seriously, this kid cracks me up. He's 4 years old and he's pretty much sure of what he wants and who he is.
I'll give you an example: He doesn't like MacDonald's food, which is actually great; but since my 7 year old girl loves it, when she gets a happy meal he has to have one too... (don't you love those cute toys...). So, I end up eating the french fries and drinking the sprite and the hamburguer just sits there until someone remembers to throw it away.
He just nibbles on his pizza, eats the sandwich without the meat or cheese(aka--bread), and eats a teaspoon of his chocolate pudding. He's great at looking at something delicious and say he doesn't like it. That's just him; We've tried all the techniques we heard of. Nothing will make him change.
However, (and here come the funny part).... My picky eater has three things that he will eat. Yup, three things.
First, oatmeal.
Second, grits.
Third, brocolli. He will shove his brocolli all in is mouth as if it was chocolate cake. People think this is great... but really, can you see yourself cooking all those three things every single day? I don't. And I won't. He'll grow out of it eventually; at least that's what I choose to believe.
So, the next time you're in a restaurant and hear a little boy cry while his mother tells him "NO MORE BROCOLLI UNTIL YOU EAT YOUR MAC AND CHEESE!", please wave and say hello. You just met me.
I have a picky eater at home.
You're probably nodding and thinking "me too"; but my picky eater is different. He's... funny. I know a mother shouldn't think that her child that doesn't eat is funny, but seriously, this kid cracks me up. He's 4 years old and he's pretty much sure of what he wants and who he is.
I'll give you an example: He doesn't like MacDonald's food, which is actually great; but since my 7 year old girl loves it, when she gets a happy meal he has to have one too... (don't you love those cute toys...). So, I end up eating the french fries and drinking the sprite and the hamburguer just sits there until someone remembers to throw it away.
He just nibbles on his pizza, eats the sandwich without the meat or cheese(aka--bread), and eats a teaspoon of his chocolate pudding. He's great at looking at something delicious and say he doesn't like it. That's just him; We've tried all the techniques we heard of. Nothing will make him change.
However, (and here come the funny part).... My picky eater has three things that he will eat. Yup, three things.
First, oatmeal.
Second, grits.
Third, brocolli. He will shove his brocolli all in is mouth as if it was chocolate cake. People think this is great... but really, can you see yourself cooking all those three things every single day? I don't. And I won't. He'll grow out of it eventually; at least that's what I choose to believe.
So, the next time you're in a restaurant and hear a little boy cry while his mother tells him "NO MORE BROCOLLI UNTIL YOU EAT YOUR MAC AND CHEESE!", please wave and say hello. You just met me.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Hummmmmm...
Not really sure what I'm doing here. Seriously. I was just playing with my computer and here I am. I guess that means I'll have to write some stuff every now and then, huh?
At least I can say I'm in fashion tho. A blog. Wow! I might become cool now!
So yeah, that's it for now. I'll be seeing you around...
At least I can say I'm in fashion tho. A blog. Wow! I might become cool now!
So yeah, that's it for now. I'll be seeing you around...
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