I'll admit my age: 32. I will be matching digits this fall. Woo Hoo!
This means I was a sophomore in high school when Billy Joel released "We Didn't Start the Fire"
I was one of those kids (dorky?) that dissected the song word for word and looked up what I didn't understand. I think I thought that Edsel was a politican, not a car!
Click here to see an excellent interpretation of the song.
Click here for the lyrics, complete with links to people, events and what not.
Here is a website breaking it down into a timeline.
And, of course, Wikipedia.
Have fun!
Monday, January 29, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
accurate comparison
We were sitting at the table tonight, eating dinner, and the kids were pointing out each others milk moustaches. The next bit of conversation is as follows:
Jack: Dwarves have moustaches. And beards. Cara, you know, you're kinda like a dwarf. You're short, not very tall and you don't run very fast either.
At this point I had to go investigate "something" at the door and my husband had to avoid choking on his milk.
I think there may be too much fantasy/science fiction in our house when the 4 1/2 year old can actually make an accurate comparison of his 2 1/2 year old sister to a dwarf.
Jack: Dwarves have moustaches. And beards. Cara, you know, you're kinda like a dwarf. You're short, not very tall and you don't run very fast either.At this point I had to go investigate "something" at the door and my husband had to avoid choking on his milk.
I think there may be too much fantasy/science fiction in our house when the 4 1/2 year old can actually make an accurate comparison of his 2 1/2 year old sister to a dwarf.
Friday, January 26, 2007
yet another melancholy post
So ... I often read the news on line while the kids are sleeping. It saves me the trouble of newspaper subscriptions and what not ... plus I get to read what I want and not have to weed through all the other junk.
Anyway ... I was looking at the local Chicago news website and saw the headline for a train accident that killed a pedestrian. I clicked on it just to see where it happened, hoping it didn't happen at the stop where my job is, or it wasn't anybody at home. Well, very much to my surprise, the person killed was my ex-boyfriend. Hmm.
We didn't end on very good terms at all. In fact, the last time I saw him, I was in court requesting a restraining order so he would leave me alone. It was not at all the way I ever envisioned ending a relationship. I was pretty sure that we were not meant to be together forever, since we were of two very different mindsets on so many things. He was adamant about not having a mortgage, a car payment or kids. He felt that the first two were just giving in to the system, and kids, well, he didn't want to share anybodys attention. I give him credit for being honest on that one.
I had dated him for almost three years, and at the end it just fell apart. I was going to college, getting ready for a future, and he wasn't. He was content to live month to month, job to job, and do drugs during the week and on weekends. It just wasn't working for me anymore, and when I tried to end things, he tried holding on tighter, so I pushed away harder and it just spiraled out of control from there. I think the event that really started it in motion was the night he hit me in the parking lot. I ended up leaving him there and staying in a hotel for the night. He spent the night in jail after getting pulled over for DUI.
I never wished him ill, since I firmly believe that it will come back to get you in the hiney if you do. I probably should say that when I was REALLY angry, I probably did wish him ill, but not when I was not angry. I hoped that he could quit the drugs and ease up on the drinking, and find something in his life that was steady. I knew he would never turn himself into a businessman or anything like that, but I knew he could be better if he quit the drugs and the drinking.
Strangely enough, I thought of him last night. I don't know what brought him to mind, but I wondered what he would think if he saw me, or what he would say. Would he say that I was a sell out, that I had given in to the system? Would we acknowledge each other at all? After all, look at me: husband, house in the suburbs, two cars, two kids. I'm everything he didn't want to be a part of.
And then, I found out this afternoon, that when I was having that thought, he had been dead for three hours already.
And, even more coincidentally, my ex-boyfriend died on the same day that my Mom died, seven years prior. Who'd a thunk it?
I feel for his parents. I really did like his Mom. His Dad was nice too, although I didn't talk to him much. He also has a sister that is two or three years younger than I am. I saw my grandpa bury four of his ten children, and all I know is that a parent should NEVER bury a child, EVER. I can't imagine the pain his folks are going through. I don't even want to imagine it.
I hope he is at peace, and that it didn't hurt and he didn't have time to panic or be scared and that his grandmother was there to meet him when he arrived in Heaven. I also hope for his parents that they find some peace and calm during these next days and months.
Anyway ... I was looking at the local Chicago news website and saw the headline for a train accident that killed a pedestrian. I clicked on it just to see where it happened, hoping it didn't happen at the stop where my job is, or it wasn't anybody at home. Well, very much to my surprise, the person killed was my ex-boyfriend. Hmm.
We didn't end on very good terms at all. In fact, the last time I saw him, I was in court requesting a restraining order so he would leave me alone. It was not at all the way I ever envisioned ending a relationship. I was pretty sure that we were not meant to be together forever, since we were of two very different mindsets on so many things. He was adamant about not having a mortgage, a car payment or kids. He felt that the first two were just giving in to the system, and kids, well, he didn't want to share anybodys attention. I give him credit for being honest on that one.
I had dated him for almost three years, and at the end it just fell apart. I was going to college, getting ready for a future, and he wasn't. He was content to live month to month, job to job, and do drugs during the week and on weekends. It just wasn't working for me anymore, and when I tried to end things, he tried holding on tighter, so I pushed away harder and it just spiraled out of control from there. I think the event that really started it in motion was the night he hit me in the parking lot. I ended up leaving him there and staying in a hotel for the night. He spent the night in jail after getting pulled over for DUI.
I never wished him ill, since I firmly believe that it will come back to get you in the hiney if you do. I probably should say that when I was REALLY angry, I probably did wish him ill, but not when I was not angry. I hoped that he could quit the drugs and ease up on the drinking, and find something in his life that was steady. I knew he would never turn himself into a businessman or anything like that, but I knew he could be better if he quit the drugs and the drinking.
Strangely enough, I thought of him last night. I don't know what brought him to mind, but I wondered what he would think if he saw me, or what he would say. Would he say that I was a sell out, that I had given in to the system? Would we acknowledge each other at all? After all, look at me: husband, house in the suburbs, two cars, two kids. I'm everything he didn't want to be a part of.
And then, I found out this afternoon, that when I was having that thought, he had been dead for three hours already.
And, even more coincidentally, my ex-boyfriend died on the same day that my Mom died, seven years prior. Who'd a thunk it?
I feel for his parents. I really did like his Mom. His Dad was nice too, although I didn't talk to him much. He also has a sister that is two or three years younger than I am. I saw my grandpa bury four of his ten children, and all I know is that a parent should NEVER bury a child, EVER. I can't imagine the pain his folks are going through. I don't even want to imagine it.
I hope he is at peace, and that it didn't hurt and he didn't have time to panic or be scared and that his grandmother was there to meet him when he arrived in Heaven. I also hope for his parents that they find some peace and calm during these next days and months.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
A Rough Week - depressing and probably shoudn't even be posted
As I sit here eating my Cheerios and Almond Milk, with my furnace at 74, thinking about the week that we just survived, I'm not happy. It was a rough week. A very rough week.
First, my Cheerios and Almond Milk. I usually don't eat Cheerios because I was told once that they use sawdust in Cheerios. I've never been able to determine whether or not this is fact or fiction, and the search results bring up comparisons to Cheerios tasting like sawdust, and cardboard is a close second. Almond Milk is because I no longer like cows milk. I quit drinking cows milk when nursing my daughter because she was having problems with it. I never went back, and now, to the dismay of my husband, I don't drink milk. He says my bones are going to suffer, so I am making an effort to drink more Almond Milk. It tastes pretty good, not surprisingly, nutty. I just find it odd that I'm eating sawdust tainted cereal with Almond Milk.
My furnace at 74. I'm tired of being cold, Nicor and ComEd can have my friggin money.
The week in review:
Monday - Martin Luther King Jr's birthday. The kids were off of school, I had to work (we were pretty busy, but not obnoxious) so not a big deal. Too bad the rest of the week couldn't follow suit.
Tuesday - had to run erands. I don't think we were in Menards five minutes before the kids were fighting and crying. Then, to top it off, The Bee fell off the front of the cart (the spot kids like to ride on) and smacked her face on the ground. It made a nice sound and a nice bruise. We managed to get over to Wal-Mart, and in the parking lot, she walked away from me. The parking lot is one place I do not play in, so she got into trouble. Then, Q & The Bee didn't take naps after lunch, so after 27 minutes of me running up/down stairs, I said that there were no naps, let's go. Off to pay the water bill. Later, at 6:30, she crawled up in my lap and fell promptly asleep. That was probably the high light of my day. She didn't get up until 7:05 the next morning.
Wednesday - work for me, so it wasn't too bad, other than the fact that I was at work.
Thursday - more running around. We went to the bank, Sams Club and then had to drop some things off at my husbands work, so we stopped there. One child ate lunch, the other one didn't (how can she be as shapely as she is if she never eats?), and when we were getting ready to leave, guess who ran away again? I'd offer a prize if the question weren't so easy ... this time she took off, heading for the driveway entrance. I literally had my hand off of her for the time it takes to open the door, and set my purse on the floor. I turned around and she was three or four steps away, which is not a huge deal, she is still a lunge and a grab away. I called her name and she looked at me and kept walking, so I YELLED her name and she took off at a full run. WTH? I had to run to catch her and then she fought getting in her car seat ... I'm in tears, out of sheer frustration. I don't even know how I drove home ... all I wanted to do was pull the car over and stop. I know that she doesn't "get it" or the danger involved, but I don't know what else to do, short of getting either a kiddy harness or going back to having her ride in the stroller everywhere we go.
Friday - I dropped off the kids' crib at the family's house that bought it. It was only six or seven minutes (not including getting stopped by a very long freight train and a Metra) from preschool. I sold the crib, mattress and changing table on craigslist for $150. I would have loved to have been able to save it for 20+ years to let my kids have it, but the reality of it is that we don't have that much space. I think the hardest part of that is admitting that there is a 99.5% likelihood of no more babies for us. I just think that four kids would be a good number to have. And yes, I can say that after going back and reading about my Tuesday and Thursday. It's just really hard for me to admit that we're done, when I'm not ready to be. I'm also tired of hearing how the world is equipped for four - four people in the car, four people at a table, four people at an amusuemnt park ... I know that for some reason less is better when it comes to kids, but I don't like it. So, after giving him the last piece of the crib, I got in the car and cried.
After school, we went to the local museum to play for an hour. As usual, the kids had a good time, and surprisingly, there were no tears as we left. That's always a nice end to the visit.
We got home and once again there were no naps, which means that the children were in rare form once again. Or, should I call it not so rare form, since I'm seeing more and more of it these days?
On a high note, I made some jam yesterday - Three Berry Jam - blackberry, blueberry and raspberry. Nice and sweet, just the way I like it. My dad should like it too.
And now it's Saturday, and I'm sort of testing to determine if my kids can handle a Saturday morning like I used to have, and it's not working so well. I thought that they might like to sit and veg in front of the tv, and so far all it's done is given my son the chance to try and turn the couch into a trampoline. And, since we still don't own all the couch yet, I'd like it to get wrecked after we make the last payment.
So, I've just gone back and re-read this and it's depressing ... and then to top it off, I'm coming in on the anniversary of my Granny's and my Mom's deaths. In January 2000, on a Friday, I was at my Grama's house when she told me that her mom had died the day before. It was somewhat surprising, but somewhat of a relief, since her Alzheimers was so bad. Either way, it's rough when your Mom dies, no matter how old you are. Little did I know, I was going to find that out for myself very soon.
We were going to try and go to Alabama for services, but there was a horrible ice storm and the city was basically shut down, so none of us were able to go, something I'm very greatful for, because I needed my family the very next week.
My Mom ended up in the hospital on Saturday, for what they thought was her gallbladder and possible early pneumonia, and I came back home on Sunday to visit with them and had lunch with my (step)Dad before I left to come back home.
He called me home on Monday, and I had my Mom removed from life support on Tuesday, the 25th of January, a beautiful cold day in Chicago. She ended up having a stroke. It will be seven years next week, and I hate it. I'm part of a club that I never wanted to join - the Motherless Daughters/Motherless Moms Club. Membership is free, as it doesn't cost anything in terms of money, but the emotional fee is higher than you might imagine it could be.
So ... how do you wrap up something like this ... I'm not exactly sure. I just know that I have to do the best that I can today, and tomorrow and the day after. This will pass, it does every year ... it's also different every year. Last year was REALLY bad, this year, in comparison, not so much, more of a down feeling, whereas last year was gut wrenching for some reason.
Go hug your kids, call your folks, appreciate the day. Here, the sky is blue, the air is cold and crisp, and the sun is shining. Maybe it's not such a bad day after all.
First, my Cheerios and Almond Milk. I usually don't eat Cheerios because I was told once that they use sawdust in Cheerios. I've never been able to determine whether or not this is fact or fiction, and the search results bring up comparisons to Cheerios tasting like sawdust, and cardboard is a close second. Almond Milk is because I no longer like cows milk. I quit drinking cows milk when nursing my daughter because she was having problems with it. I never went back, and now, to the dismay of my husband, I don't drink milk. He says my bones are going to suffer, so I am making an effort to drink more Almond Milk. It tastes pretty good, not surprisingly, nutty. I just find it odd that I'm eating sawdust tainted cereal with Almond Milk.
My furnace at 74. I'm tired of being cold, Nicor and ComEd can have my friggin money.
The week in review:
Monday - Martin Luther King Jr's birthday. The kids were off of school, I had to work (we were pretty busy, but not obnoxious) so not a big deal. Too bad the rest of the week couldn't follow suit.
Tuesday - had to run erands. I don't think we were in Menards five minutes before the kids were fighting and crying. Then, to top it off, The Bee fell off the front of the cart (the spot kids like to ride on) and smacked her face on the ground. It made a nice sound and a nice bruise. We managed to get over to Wal-Mart, and in the parking lot, she walked away from me. The parking lot is one place I do not play in, so she got into trouble. Then, Q & The Bee didn't take naps after lunch, so after 27 minutes of me running up/down stairs, I said that there were no naps, let's go. Off to pay the water bill. Later, at 6:30, she crawled up in my lap and fell promptly asleep. That was probably the high light of my day. She didn't get up until 7:05 the next morning.
Wednesday - work for me, so it wasn't too bad, other than the fact that I was at work.
Thursday - more running around. We went to the bank, Sams Club and then had to drop some things off at my husbands work, so we stopped there. One child ate lunch, the other one didn't (how can she be as shapely as she is if she never eats?), and when we were getting ready to leave, guess who ran away again? I'd offer a prize if the question weren't so easy ... this time she took off, heading for the driveway entrance. I literally had my hand off of her for the time it takes to open the door, and set my purse on the floor. I turned around and she was three or four steps away, which is not a huge deal, she is still a lunge and a grab away. I called her name and she looked at me and kept walking, so I YELLED her name and she took off at a full run. WTH? I had to run to catch her and then she fought getting in her car seat ... I'm in tears, out of sheer frustration. I don't even know how I drove home ... all I wanted to do was pull the car over and stop. I know that she doesn't "get it" or the danger involved, but I don't know what else to do, short of getting either a kiddy harness or going back to having her ride in the stroller everywhere we go.
Friday - I dropped off the kids' crib at the family's house that bought it. It was only six or seven minutes (not including getting stopped by a very long freight train and a Metra) from preschool. I sold the crib, mattress and changing table on craigslist for $150. I would have loved to have been able to save it for 20+ years to let my kids have it, but the reality of it is that we don't have that much space. I think the hardest part of that is admitting that there is a 99.5% likelihood of no more babies for us. I just think that four kids would be a good number to have. And yes, I can say that after going back and reading about my Tuesday and Thursday. It's just really hard for me to admit that we're done, when I'm not ready to be. I'm also tired of hearing how the world is equipped for four - four people in the car, four people at a table, four people at an amusuemnt park ... I know that for some reason less is better when it comes to kids, but I don't like it. So, after giving him the last piece of the crib, I got in the car and cried.
After school, we went to the local museum to play for an hour. As usual, the kids had a good time, and surprisingly, there were no tears as we left. That's always a nice end to the visit.
We got home and once again there were no naps, which means that the children were in rare form once again. Or, should I call it not so rare form, since I'm seeing more and more of it these days?
On a high note, I made some jam yesterday - Three Berry Jam - blackberry, blueberry and raspberry. Nice and sweet, just the way I like it. My dad should like it too.
And now it's Saturday, and I'm sort of testing to determine if my kids can handle a Saturday morning like I used to have, and it's not working so well. I thought that they might like to sit and veg in front of the tv, and so far all it's done is given my son the chance to try and turn the couch into a trampoline. And, since we still don't own all the couch yet, I'd like it to get wrecked after we make the last payment.
So, I've just gone back and re-read this and it's depressing ... and then to top it off, I'm coming in on the anniversary of my Granny's and my Mom's deaths. In January 2000, on a Friday, I was at my Grama's house when she told me that her mom had died the day before. It was somewhat surprising, but somewhat of a relief, since her Alzheimers was so bad. Either way, it's rough when your Mom dies, no matter how old you are. Little did I know, I was going to find that out for myself very soon.
We were going to try and go to Alabama for services, but there was a horrible ice storm and the city was basically shut down, so none of us were able to go, something I'm very greatful for, because I needed my family the very next week.
My Mom ended up in the hospital on Saturday, for what they thought was her gallbladder and possible early pneumonia, and I came back home on Sunday to visit with them and had lunch with my (step)Dad before I left to come back home.
He called me home on Monday, and I had my Mom removed from life support on Tuesday, the 25th of January, a beautiful cold day in Chicago. She ended up having a stroke. It will be seven years next week, and I hate it. I'm part of a club that I never wanted to join - the Motherless Daughters/Motherless Moms Club. Membership is free, as it doesn't cost anything in terms of money, but the emotional fee is higher than you might imagine it could be.
So ... how do you wrap up something like this ... I'm not exactly sure. I just know that I have to do the best that I can today, and tomorrow and the day after. This will pass, it does every year ... it's also different every year. Last year was REALLY bad, this year, in comparison, not so much, more of a down feeling, whereas last year was gut wrenching for some reason.
Go hug your kids, call your folks, appreciate the day. Here, the sky is blue, the air is cold and crisp, and the sun is shining. Maybe it's not such a bad day after all.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Hmm ...
Interesting fact, uncovered during some internet sleuthing ...
The area I live in, which is west of Chicago, closer to DeKalb (Northern Illinois University, home of the Huskies) than the city, has a 23% higher cost of living than the national average.
The area I live in, which is west of Chicago, closer to DeKalb (Northern Illinois University, home of the Huskies) than the city, has a 23% higher cost of living than the national average.
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