After a weekend of lying on the couch, hour after hour, watching TV and dozing, I am finally back. I still feel pretty crummy, but I can sit upright without feeling dizzy.
Yesterday my sister, Brenda called me and told me that her family is going to Disney Land. Her husband, Matt, has to go to some meetings for work and they are putting him up at one of the Disney Resorts and he can take his family. I was only kidding when I said
"I'll be your nanny!"
Brenda said that they actually wanted to get someone to go with them and why not me? They are going to fly me down to help Brenda with the kids at Disney Land while he is in meetings for two days. I will stay with the kids while Brenda and Matt 'go play' alone without the ball and chain that kids can be. I am so excited. I really miss my little nephews and my little neice. I don't think she will remember me.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Sick and Tired
Today I am really sick and tired. I mean I woke up with a sore throat, a tooth ache and runny nose and I could use some more sleep.
Besides being sick and tired, I have felt today like I don't care about anything. I'm definitely having feelings of giving up. (Don't worry, they're not severe giving up feelings...just apathy)
Mark's ex-wife is getting away with more than I ever thought possible. I wish we could just cancel this custody mess, but it's not like a house that we have lost the bid on or a really nice living room suite that just won't fit the room. No! This is a living, breathing child. I know this child. He needs a normal home with well adjusted, normal thinking parents. Instead, he has a whacked out mother and the courts won't do anything about it.
I think today's apathy comes from a place of disbelief that the world, the courts, a mother could be so unfair. We grow up thinking that eventually good always prevails over evil. Not so.
Besides being sick and tired, I have felt today like I don't care about anything. I'm definitely having feelings of giving up. (Don't worry, they're not severe giving up feelings...just apathy)
Mark's ex-wife is getting away with more than I ever thought possible. I wish we could just cancel this custody mess, but it's not like a house that we have lost the bid on or a really nice living room suite that just won't fit the room. No! This is a living, breathing child. I know this child. He needs a normal home with well adjusted, normal thinking parents. Instead, he has a whacked out mother and the courts won't do anything about it.
I think today's apathy comes from a place of disbelief that the world, the courts, a mother could be so unfair. We grow up thinking that eventually good always prevails over evil. Not so.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Turtle
Why is my url http://www.turtlesneedlovetoo.blogspot.com/?
When I was in fifth grade. (Grade 5 for all you Canadians!) I had a teacher named Mr. Kalumaji. Mr. Kalumaji loved sports! I did not love sports!
Near the beginning of the school year, my best friend was murdered, (That's for another blog another day) I turned 11 and put on a bit of 'puberty' weight after being a fairly thin child most of my life and Mr. Kalumaji decided that it would be a good idea to make us run a 50 yard dash every day.
First, we ran for a week every day to get a 'base time'. Then for the rest of the entire first semester we ran that dang 50 yard dash every single day, rain or shine. If the weather was too awful, he would set it up to run in the gym/cafeteria. Every day of every week, each student shaved a millisecond off their time...except me. My time stayed the same and sometimes was even worse.
Let me tell you, when I was born pigeon toes and knock-kneed, I wore special shoes until I was about 9 years old. When I was 2 1/2, I was enrolled in dance with the thought that the ballet would be therapeutic and fun. I loved dance! I became a good dancer (if I don't say so myself).
As semester wore on and I continued to worsen my running time, my self esteem plummeted, making me run slower still. One boy, Joe, told me I was as slow as a turtle. Soon all the boys were calling me turtle. After a while, even some of the girls called me turtle. I think they forgot I had a name. It was so hurtful that sometimes I would hide in the girl's bathroom and cry so no one could see.
At the semester report card time, I got my usual straight A's with an F in P.E.. I was so afraid to show my report card to my parents that I hid it for a week before my mother asked about it. Eventually I gave it to her and braced myself for the worst.
As she questioned me, I told her through my tears, runny nose and hiccups how we ran the 50 yard dash every day; how the teacher yelled at me for being slow; how the kids called me turtle.
"They are all good at running!" I cried "I'm just not good at running! I have other things I'm good at, but not running. I bet they would all get F's and I would get the A if we did...TAP DANCING for P.E.!"
It all turned out okay. My Mom called Mr. Maniscalco, the principal, and made an appointment to see him. She showed him the report card, explained about the 50 yard dash and my physical limitations. Mr. Maniscalco had a soft heart and a son with little to no athletic ability and agreed that I should not have received an F. I can't really remember what grade I got, I don't think it was an A, but Mr. Kalumaji did not force us to run the 50 yard dash again. For those that wanted to, they could, but a second option was made available to the run-haters like me.
To this day, I still WILL NOT run (unless someone is chasing me with a very big knife) and I would still love to see Mr. Kalumaji tap dance.
Turtles do need love too!
When I was in fifth grade. (Grade 5 for all you Canadians!) I had a teacher named Mr. Kalumaji. Mr. Kalumaji loved sports! I did not love sports!
Near the beginning of the school year, my best friend was murdered, (That's for another blog another day) I turned 11 and put on a bit of 'puberty' weight after being a fairly thin child most of my life and Mr. Kalumaji decided that it would be a good idea to make us run a 50 yard dash every day.
First, we ran for a week every day to get a 'base time'. Then for the rest of the entire first semester we ran that dang 50 yard dash every single day, rain or shine. If the weather was too awful, he would set it up to run in the gym/cafeteria. Every day of every week, each student shaved a millisecond off their time...except me. My time stayed the same and sometimes was even worse.
Let me tell you, when I was born pigeon toes and knock-kneed, I wore special shoes until I was about 9 years old. When I was 2 1/2, I was enrolled in dance with the thought that the ballet would be therapeutic and fun. I loved dance! I became a good dancer (if I don't say so myself).
As semester wore on and I continued to worsen my running time, my self esteem plummeted, making me run slower still. One boy, Joe, told me I was as slow as a turtle. Soon all the boys were calling me turtle. After a while, even some of the girls called me turtle. I think they forgot I had a name. It was so hurtful that sometimes I would hide in the girl's bathroom and cry so no one could see.
At the semester report card time, I got my usual straight A's with an F in P.E.. I was so afraid to show my report card to my parents that I hid it for a week before my mother asked about it. Eventually I gave it to her and braced myself for the worst.
As she questioned me, I told her through my tears, runny nose and hiccups how we ran the 50 yard dash every day; how the teacher yelled at me for being slow; how the kids called me turtle.
"They are all good at running!" I cried "I'm just not good at running! I have other things I'm good at, but not running. I bet they would all get F's and I would get the A if we did...TAP DANCING for P.E.!"
It all turned out okay. My Mom called Mr. Maniscalco, the principal, and made an appointment to see him. She showed him the report card, explained about the 50 yard dash and my physical limitations. Mr. Maniscalco had a soft heart and a son with little to no athletic ability and agreed that I should not have received an F. I can't really remember what grade I got, I don't think it was an A, but Mr. Kalumaji did not force us to run the 50 yard dash again. For those that wanted to, they could, but a second option was made available to the run-haters like me.
To this day, I still WILL NOT run (unless someone is chasing me with a very big knife) and I would still love to see Mr. Kalumaji tap dance.
Turtles do need love too!
Where to begin
I don't know why I am doing this, except perhaps as an outlet for myself. I think we all feel sometimes that we are very alone and for me, getting my thoughts out on paper or in this case, cyberspace, gives me a release.
I have had a life that is anything but boring. I don't always think chronilogically, so I may not write it that way, either.
I have had a life that is anything but boring. I don't always think chronilogically, so I may not write it that way, either.
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