Monday, September 28, 2009

Suspicious.....

Once in a while, someone in my home does something just a little bizarre. They might have done something odd and don't know how to fix it, or something icky they don't know how to cover up. Then we have mysteries. And within our mysteries, we often have a single reporting passerby. It tends to be one particular bystander who notes the oddity that has occurred, and notes the oddity with surprise. Hmmmm. Here is an example.

About a year ago we were all at my parents house for the weekend. We had just arrived and were unpacking our stuff. Genea somehow enticed The Husband to the bathroom and I hear her say "Oh no look Daddy! How did that happen?" Genea has all the acting ability of a roommate on "Three's Company" and so right away my mommy-radar perked up. Quickly, I am summoned to the bathroom. Standing next to the toilet with her eyes bugging out of her head is Genea, and she is trying with all her will to look shocked and perplexed as to the situation. Which the situation is, there is a toothbrush floating around in the toilet. Haaaaa ha ha, I am laughing just writing this and remembering. She tried so very very hard to make us believe that the toothbrush just appeared in the potty and that either:
a. no one put it there or
b. it put its own self there
Either way, she had not a clue as she was simply being a good Samaritan and calling 911 on behalf of the toothbrush.

Well folks, I have no acting ability either. Despite spending at least one solid second trying to look stern and serious, I busted out laughing hysterically and told Genea to pluck that toothbrush back out of the toilet. I knew she had not thrown it in there on purpose (toothbrushes only go on the sink, that is where they go and not anywhere else, storing them in the toilet would be a change and we do not do change) but in there it was and it had to come out. We would throw it away of course and nobody was in trouble but it did need to be removed and we knew she had accidentally knocked it in there. BAH gaaaaaWWaaaaaaahhhh Wahh AAaaa commence meltdown and her Daddy was kind enough to reach in there and get it out for her, using various tools that did not involve his hands touching anything.

So this weekend when Genea appeared in the kitchen with me, out of nowhere to report that she smelled poop in her room, my mommy-radar again fired up. She had that same look of WOW HOW WEIRD to smell poop in my room! She had that same tone of HOW COULD THAT BE in her voice intended to convey her innocence, indeed her shock and horror. I mentioned that I personally thought it would be most odd for there to be a smell of poop in her room unless it were *ahem* temporary. No, no no, Mama, she insisted, you really better go smell for yourself.

Not interested in Genea's suggestion, I made a suggestion of my own. Genea, I said, why don't you go in your room and look around and see if you can figure out what is making the room smell like poop. Happy she was, to bounce off and go poop- smell- hunting and sure enough within minutes, the source was found!!!! I KNOW!!!! YOU HAVE to be AS SURPRISED as I was!!!! The GLAMOUR of parenting!!!

Sure enough, there were 2 tiny little turds on the floor of the girls bedroom. I inspected them.... briefly. Wondered for a second....never mind. Thought about trying to figure out.... oh to hell with it. Got a ball of paper towels and cleaned it up. Genea never looked so relieved in her life.

And me, well sometimes I think there is more benefit to leaving things go. Lying, manipulating, and hygienic nuclear fallout, these are not good things. But not everything has to lead to a confrontation, a lesson and a consequence. Sometimes I think it is better to just go with the flow and move on.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Who would do such a thing?

No, okay, it is not on par with Mackenzie Philips telling yet another story verifying that her brain is totally lacking of an "off" switch. But for me, this is a big. I made brownies. Before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, you should know that Duncan Hines did most of the work. I added water and stirred. I don't have a brownie pan though so I make do with a pie plate from some clearance aisle somewhere. My cooking however, is not the unbelievable thing here.

Exhibit A: Brownie pan on the counter with foil covering and protecting remaining brownies.



Exhibit B: Evidence I clearly should never have gotten married.



Seriously. Was this a suicidal gesture? Is the man responsible for this expecting to be killed?
This is how I live people. Its ugly but it is true.
No glamour. No glory. No brownies.
And one sick and puking kid, with one on the verge.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

What I learned... Stealing

I went to the Beyond Consequences Certified Instructor Training a little over a week ago and thought I would share some of the things I learned. One specific thing that I was interested in was the subject of stealing. Now, I don't have a shoplifter or a kid who takes money. What I have is a kid who once in a while takes things that are not hers and hides them (actually, she has not done that in a long time but she used to). What I wanted to know was what is the best way to handle stealing/taking when the moment is long gone? If I catch her in the act or shortly after, that is one thing. But catching it and having no idea when it occurred is different. So, I asked.

With BC (Beyond Consequences) you are working from the assumption that all negative behavior evolves from fear. Likewise, if you take a behavior on the surface that shows as anger or manipulation and work backwards through all the emotions that could be causing the outward behavior, what is left is fear. The "high" a kid gets from stealing is their attempt to override the fear and anxiety they feel. The child is trying to regulate themselves. So even if you weren't there when it happened and all you know is your kid has a fairy princess crown that you did not give, you address the fear.

First you have to make sure you are not all pissed off and shooting stress everywhere. Don't think about your kid going to jail and having to talk to her through glass on some nasty lice infested phone. Don't project how embarrassed you will be when the 17 year old manager of Walgreen's approaches you as you notice lumps of candy cascading out of your child's pants. Don't worry about having to pay thousands of dollars in fines and court costs in the future. Just sit with your kid and stay in the moment that you are in. You can ask the kid what happened and you might be surprised with the truth, but don't be surprised if you do not get it. Then you say something to the effect of "I am so sorry I was not there for you when you needed me". See, this is reacting to the underlying fear and when you have a scared child you want to be there for them. Sound hinky? Try it and see.

From my view (so do not blame Heather Forbes for this) here on down, if the behavior is about control, manipulation, trying to get away with something etc, using that reaction is a great way to undercut the power struggle. Instead of amping the control up higher and higher, you are effectively whacking out the legs from under all the usual reactions. Then you can cut a new pathway in the brain to create a different cycle or pattern.

But wait! What about the consequences? You can't just let the kid get away with this! No, of course not. But issuing a harsh consequence does what..... makes the kid try harder not to get caught next time. You have your kid go return the fairy princess crown to the original owner. But here is the good part- you go with her and help her through it. She will be scared and worried and probably freaking out inside and you will be there helping her through it, imprinting yourself within the fear and its recovery. Aha! New pathway in the brain! Connection!

So, what do you all think? Does it sound too easy? Or like a great technique that you are going to try at your next stealing event? Or does it not make any sense and I need to explain more? Let me know!

Monday, September 21, 2009

Oops!

Aaaaand, this Mom here, I forgot to add on my list on the last post. This here is BT, who has been hanging around for a while now, and very sneakily decided to start her own blog. She has found that she now understands how people get so excited about followers and comments LOL!
If I forgot anyone on the official blogroll over down on the right, please speak up because as should be obvious, I miss things on occassion.

http://findingourwaytofamily.blogspot.com/

Blogroll updates

Ok, I did it. A few new people popped up that I never knew of! So go check them out and leave a comment if the spirit moves you.

Really new bloggers:

http://stellarparenting.blogspot.com/
http://accidentaladvocate.blogspot.com/
http://wechoseadoption.blogspot.com/
http://mamadrama-timestwo.blogspot.com/

And, if you had been following Tricia at http://lifeingoland.blogspot.com/ she changed the name of something and all of her followers dropped off. Disaster!!! So follow the link and copy it or whatever. I had to delete my old links to her entirely and start over. I am guessing there is an easier way but I sure don't know it.

Happy Monday!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Re-tali-aAAAA- tion

Well, I knew it would come. Genea has really been on a roll since I got back home and doing great. On the surface. She has been pleasant and considerate and helpful. Fun and funny. Calmer, tranquil (sort of). However.



As with all things Genea, don't count your happy chickens before they hatch, or blow their way out of their shell. She has invented a new way of torturing me in particular. Because she knows how important my sleep is to me (yeah, ok I know it is not a plot against me but I swear to you that is how if feels!) . I just. do . not. do. well. without my sleep!


Early Monday morning (remember, I came home from my trip Sunday) Genea is standing in my doorway at 3 AM hissing "Mama..... Mama........ Mama?" Finally I realize that it is not a crummy dream, she is actually standing there and so I ask what is wrong. She says her tummy hurts and I invite her to come and lay with me. She does. But after about 10 minutes, she leaves because she cannot usually fall sleep in my bed. You see, it is not her bed. And if she is going to sleep, all other things being the same as yesterday, it has to be in her bed. Same goes for me in her bed btw, if I make like I am going to lay down with her, she gets all whipped up about me having my own bed and going to it. LOL!




Tuesday morning (middle of the night) was a special one. 3 AM and here she comes. "Mama..... Mama..... Mama.....". What, Genea. (put down your coffee warning) She says, my butt itches. Ok, I am still trying to stay asleep, desperately, and get into this as little as possible so I make a critical mistake.... I tell her we will put lotion on it in the morning. No, Mama, we should do it now, my butt itches now. I muttered some crap about it won't work through the fabric of her jammies if we do it now and somehow she accepts this, and back to her own bed.



Wednesday afternoon I decided to have a little talk with her about this new attack on my sleep. A little talk that included phrases like "never again" and the like. See, I am out of patience quick on this since I am so danged tired. I really tried to be kind and even asked her if she was scared when I was gone so now she needs to check to be sure I am there. No, was the answer. Definitely not. Very certain of that. (Too bad kid, cuz I would have been much more accommodating for that one!)



Thursday morning. I hear Genea crying in the bathroom, about 4 AM. Trying uselessly to hang on to my sleep I asked The Husband what was going on. Turns out Genea listened to me, and did not wake me up. Instead, she stood at the door whispering..... "Daddy..... Daddy..... daddy...". Even in my attempts to stay unconscious, I saw the uproarious humor in that one. The problem du jour was that she had gone to the bathroom and said she could not get her diaper back on.



Now for anyone that is thinking, well you crummy parents, she probably DID have a problem getting her diaper back on. That has to be hard to do, especially in the middle of the night! Jerks! Lousy people! Poor little girl! So if you are thinking that, let me tell you a fun story.

On Wednesday morning, not six months ago but this very weeks same Wednesday morning, Genea made a big point of telling The Husband that her overnight diaper was dry! Woo hoo! Party on dude! High 5's were passed around. Until The Husband noticed a wet diaper was on the floor. Yeah, ewww is right. Turns out this child is a diaper changing savant when she is trying to put one over on you. And mind you, there is nothing to be gained or lost. We still use nighttime diapers and we do not care. There are no prizes for a dry one and no mention of wet ones. So she is like Rain Man driving the Cadillac (or whatever it was) when she woke up and whipped off the wet one and flipped on a dry one lickety split to pull her scam. Only she left her evidence on the floor.

Thursday we had many discussions about cranky parents who get no sleep and children who continue to want and need things from their parents. Cause and effect girls. You want 'fill in the blank'. Your parents are tired and do not have the energy to get you 'fill in the blank'. Why are your parents tired? Mmmm hmmm, yup yup. So what are you going to do next time? Mmmm hmmm, good idea, stay in your bed and don't wake anyone up.

Friday morning what happened? Who is wondering? Who thinks our great supportive, encouraging and interactive reciprocal parenting technique has been successful? Right around 4 AM, who was sleeping and who wasn't? Well, we all would have been sleeping evidently were it not for a certain owee hurting a certain child. What turned out to be an invisible phantom owee. Not her fault. The owee flared up then disappeared prior to sunrise.

aaaaargh tired ssrrrrrreeeaeeeeeeeeeet irritated gaaalooooooooooo screaming grrrrrrrrr !!!!!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Blogroll updating

Hey again all y'all (I think I used that incorrectly in my last post). I am updating all my stuff around here and am going to finally tweak up my blogroll.
Anyone want to be on it? Just leave a comment with your url.

Likewise if you want to be removed, let me know that too.
(I don't know why you would, but thought I should offer).
(I have been known to use *ahem* bad words and have a poor *cough* attitude, my sense of humor is not for everyone)!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Too True Tues(day) #5

Here is the subject for this round of Too True Tues. The best of the worst parenting advice you ever got. So bad, you just cannot believe it was true. I thought this up after a comment from http://www.annieology.com/ when she said a social worker told her to give her son a rock to "love on" when he felt sad (crazy or homicidal, whatever). She was shocked to be told to participate in the losing of her own eye!

If you are new and want to play, just write up a fun story on some of the great (not) parenting advice you have been on the receiving end of, on your blog. Then, link yourself with the Mr. Linky stuff down there at the bottom. Then, come back and read the other stories because they are always really stinking funny!

I could not decide out of my top few, so I am going to list them. Cuz they are just that good!

1. It's easy. If you are calm, your child will be calm. That's all it takes.

(thankfully this person has now a grandchild with er, calmness challenges. Well not thankfully but you know what I mean. No, not you Tia).

2. Phrase the correction of your child as what to do, instead of what not to do.

(this has its merits with an only child. I got stuck in the first few days with Genea though. Don't lock your sister in the bathroom- um, I should say ..... what instead? Keep yourself in another room when your sister is pottying? What does that even mean? I don't have time to think up crap like that, my other kid is locked in the bathroom)

3. For every negative thing that you accidentally say you must say 5 positive things to counteract the heinous life you will devastate your child with (a little of my interpretation there.)

That was from a child- free person- obviously. Don't rip the cats tail off, it is mean, stop slamming the door no one wants to hear it, you're being horrible to... it is gross when you puke on the dinner table... that hurts when you... it is bad to kick the.... pick up the effing books you just knocked over, don't throw the...wipe up the.... you're being nasty to.... (this is the first 3 minutes of my day before my coffee and xanax) Listen, I would still be coming up with positives for the next 17 years !!!

4. When your daughter is having an uncontrollable raging meltdown that is completely disproportionate to the situation, give her something else to focus on. Like this pen.

Yep, school social worker there. I wrote about it before, but it is such a great bit of advice I had to repeat it. Seriously, I am supposed to arm my child with an object that will puncture skin as she blows up (I mean, you can perform a tracheotomy with a pen!). Here is your weapon honey, hope your meltdown ends soon! I'll be behind the door of the vault when you are done!

Whew!




Have fun!

Monday, September 14, 2009

How I spent my September vacation

Hi Y'all, I's back! I had 3 full days in Virginia with 2 days of travel. It was lovely! I came home yesterday at about 1:00, and the calm peaceful feelings lasted until about 5:30. So, roughly 4 hours and 29 minutes longer than the last time I went away for a break. The class was good and I will go into it quite a bit later.

Virginia is a nice state, I think I had only driven through it before. I was surprised at the foresty nature, I had thought it would be more tropical-ish. Palm tree's and stuff. Homes that I saw were gorgeous, similar to Charleston where they are all tall, 2-3 stories high and skinny. Many with rooftop decks for viewing the ocean. The beach was fabulous! Surfers, and parachute surfers, military jets practicing, weirdo's, and mild temperature in the water. One thing freaked me out, on the beach all of a sudden, the sand started running sideways in the shape of a crab but the color of the sand. Not supposed to do that!

I don't think I have ever taken a trip where so many little things have gone wrong. And the city of Detroit seems to have put a curse on me. Not sure why, possibly due to my allegiance to the Denver Avalanche hockey team from the 90's. I had stops in Detroit both ways, and both times I got stuck with what apparently was a teenage boy driving the airplane. A teenage boy with RAD out of his parents sight for the first time. A boy who had just recently watched the movie Top Gun. It was a wild ride! In the Detroit airport they have this long tunnel thing in between terminals. It looks like it was intended to be really funky and cool in there with multicolored back lit panels lining the sides of the walls, and you can walk on the ground or on those moving walkway things (genius, those walkways, I want one going to my laundry room and back). Anyway, the panels keep it just dimly lit in the first place, but when several panels go out at one time just as a certain Accidental Mommy is trying to maneuver her self and her far too heavy bag off a genius walkway, it should lead to disaster. Fortunately when the lights went out it was just before it was time for me to jump off and so I was prepared. Sort of. But, there were no injuries and so sadly, no multi million dollar settlement for me. (Back to trying to earn a living through couch sitting *sigh*).

Got on the plane to Norfolk and..... turns out it was broken. Some jackass broke the plane, my guess would be a pilot driving like a teenage boy. Had to deplane, as they call it. Everyone was saying "I am so glad they discovered the problem before we took off!" which is one way to look at it. My way to look at it is, keep your stupid planes fixed up in the first place. Are you kidding me? You got us all crammed into this soda can, charged all that money including $20 extra because I had a suitcase, and then discovered it needed some "routine maintenance"? How many kinds of stupid were involved in that little failure? Anyway, got back off the plane and wow, the counter staff was one nasty, cranky group. All of us potentially Lost passengers were being pretty reasonable about the whole thing but every time someone went to ask at the counter what was going on they acted like Janice Dickenson without her morning coffee and xanax. Not that I know her, but I have an image in my mind. I thought I might be stuck in Michigan for my entire vacation and was trying to think of all the people I know in the state. Which is like 4 or 5 people, and I thought, well I know this one mom who let an opossum live in her garage for a week so surely she would let me crash in her garage assuming the opossum is gone. But then I realized, all the people I know in Michigan are blog friends whom I don't actually know, and my one cousin The Uni-Bitch and I would rather sleep in a garage with vermin than stay with her. Fortunately, it just took about an hour of airport sitting and we were off again.

Worst of all the minor offenses, the Detroit airport has no Starbucks. They have another coffee brand which is not Starbucks. Probably Coffee to the Redwings or something.

I discovered a way to drive the Bush family out of business and solve the nations oil problems. Plop me in Virginia Beach and every few minutes drag a shower squeegee over my face. Oil a'plenty. I have had oily skin my whole life but it went into overdrive there. Oh! And I got to have grits! I love grits, real southern grits! Yummmy!

When it was most regrettably time to leave, I called for a shuttle to the airport. The woman on the phone asked me what town, so I told her. She said, no what town? I repeated. She said, the town Miss, I need to know the town. OH! The time. She needed the time. T- aiiiiii- me. Not T- ahhhhhhw-mn. Hee hee.

The girls missed me, both of them! Genea kept saying, "I'm just so happy you are home Mama!". And The Husband kept up with them and the house which was also a great improvement over the last trip I took. However, he took a half day off of work today to recover. I don't make it up people, I just report the facts. Mmmm hmmm.

Ok, so tomorrow is Too True Tuesday and here is the subject. The best bad parenting advice you ever were given. Like, from a social worker or your mom, or a friend with no kids. The dumbest well intentioned thing anyone ever told you. You can even make a list if you want because I am personally having a hard time picking out of the top few dumb things.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Lip Plumper

I had some thoughts. While this is not always a good thing, I decided to share because that is just the kind of generous I am.

If I put lip plumper on my boobs, will I gain a cup size? And if not, will the *ahem* tingling make it worth while anyhow?

I have been hyper vigilant about my hair. I have an irrational fear of "Mom Hair". Instead I have been growing it very long. I decided that I am finally wayheyhey too old for super long hair, so this is the last time I will really let it grow out. (I had decided the same thing when I turned 30 but things changed). Anyway, with all that attention going to the style I forgot to monitor my natural white highlights. Ugh.

Amy, is that you reading? You may as well just speak up. Seriously.

Levi Johnson and John Gosslieng are absolute imbecilic donut holes. For the love of all the cabbage on the planet, shuuuuut uuuuuup. Shut up and go take care of your kids. Remember them? You. Ridiculous. Donut. Holes. Here is a great opinion piece that made me laugh by Gail Collins. BTW, I deliberately spelled their names wrong so they will not have the joy of a google alert telling them I was writing about them. Dumb asses.

I was on a Ferris wheel with Teena over the weekend and the height was freaking me out. Teena said, "be brave Mama", and refused to hold my hand.

I saw a man at the amusement park with an enormous green and yellow #4 (Brett Favre reference) tattooed on his arm with some words to the effect of the greatest ever (American football) living legend. Carefully consider your tattoo's people. Permanent. Remember that. They are permanent.

I am leaving tomorrow for my class in Virginia Beach. Woo Hoo! I figured out how to post to my blog from my phone, so I am planning to do that. Technology is SO DANG COOL! There is a way to post pics from my phone also, but sadly that seems to be too cool for me. I can pick up comments from my phone in my email too, but I can't leave any or check other blogs.

I will also tweet from class if it doesn't get me kicked out. In which case I will do it afterwards ha ha. I will be back on Sunday. Be sure to check out next weeks Too True Tuesday, I had a fun idea and will put up the details soon.

Monday, September 7, 2009

testing to use my phone to post to blog

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Cool Award!


Look here at what http://www.annieology.com/ gave me!


I think it looks just like me! Except I don't wear heels, I wear Birkies. And, I would be walking a cat not a dog. But otherwise, I think it's me!
(not really)

THANKS ANNIEOLOGY!!!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

First day of school

Ahhhh.

Lets start with Teena because hers is short. Teena went to school and came home. She was very happy and excited. Her bus was really late. The end.

The night before the first day of school, Genea had calmed down a bit from her previous state of screeching across the ceiling and when I pointed it out to her and asked her why she said, because it is almost here. School is tomorrow, it is almost here. Hmmm, interesting. Okay moving on.

Genea wet the bed and was up half the night and eventually went to sleep on the floor- her "hallmark" of massive stress. The Husband took her to school because I am really bad at that. The first day Teena went to day care when she was 3 months old he had to take her, I couldn't do it. I might still be there trying to separate (and since they closed 2 years ago that would really be dumb)! Anyway, he is encouraging and empathetic and also firm where I would be all smushy. So she froze up in her class a couple times and went into the dazed -n- glazed state where she looks half asleep and leaves her mouth open with her tongue hanging out. But, she recovered and The Husband was able to unsuction her from his leg and re- suction her to a chair and it was all good from there. I had put a pink heart on her hand with a marker as per recommendation from kate's comment a few posts down. She loved it and kept checking it before she left.

All was evidently good throughout school. Teena's return bus was really late and on the other side of the block from Genea's spot (will be addressing that with them). While I was getting Teena off the bus I saw our neighbor walking towards her house with her 2 girls, one of whom is in Genea's class. I don't see Genea.

I don't see Genea.

Where the hell is Genea???

Over the summer the first day of school the bus company had effed up her route and left her at school, so I had made damn sure that would not happen again. I spoke with the teacher. I double checked routes. I emailed the bus company and got a confirmation. I drilled Genea 200 times on her stop and what to do. The Husband confirmed with the school and teacher in the morning, that very morning. No Genea.

I called the school. They said, did I think she had gotten off at another stop? I would not know that, I said. She is supposed to be here and the bus just left and she was not on it. The school people went and looked outside for her. No Genea. They'll call the bus company and have them check the buses but they don't know where she is. The teacher put her in the line for the correct bus, they tell me. They'll call me back.

So I am standing in the middle of the street with Teena, staring around in circles looking for and listening for a bus. Enormous yellow structure with a diesel engine. Can't miss it. Several minutes go by and no one is calling me back. No enormous yellow structure. All I can think of is attachment disorder. She has attachment disorder and bipolar disorder and no one can find her. She could be riding around town, she is probably fine, but she could have gotten off at the wrong stop and is just standing there frozen on the side of the road waiting for a pedophile or a drunk driver or a pack of mean teenagers. She can't handle this. She can't. She won't be able to talk if someone tries to help her. This is going to break her. She is not a regular kid and she cannot handle this. My neighbor says, wow you are so calm I would be freaking out! Hmm mmm, I said, while thinking I don't have the luxury of freaking out right now I have to find my kid!

Probably 5 minutes after I hang up with the school, along comes an enormous yellow structure and when it stopped, a curly haired little ping pong ball exploded out of the doors and flew to me.

Ahhhhh. There she is. I asked her if she wanted to have a meltdown and pointed out this would be a good time for one. If it were me, I told her, I would throw myself a good ol' wango tango right here! No, she said, not outside. After we had been home for about an hour and it was time for "rest" ( I make them lay down quietly for an hour and rest or nap) here came the wango tango. Because it was rest time. And even though we have always for the past two and a half years, so approximately 927 times, every single day at 4 o'clock, we have always had nap or rest time, Genea threw a fit over having to have a rest. Hmmm hmmmm.

So, except for the bus issues, it went really well! Both girls need to get into a routine with their schedules, and me too for that matter. BTW, I did not do a shot of tequila Tuesday, I did pee laundry instead.

I used to be cool. Really.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

TTT #4 Too True Tues

Hey y'all, it is time again for Too True Tues! That day of the week and time of the month where you lay out there for all to see, your semi embarrassing secrets for the fun of the rest of us.

This week, I still have socks to match up to make for the smoothest possible first day of school so I gotta be quick. This is something that I am actually not embarrassed about, but a lot of people seem to think I should be. Many people in the past have gasped in horror at this, giving me Appalled Eyes. They clearly have thought I just did not have the sense to realize how awful this really is. But, I am just a realistic person. Not terribly romantic or sentimental, and I don't like crap. Or curio's.

So here it is.... I buy my own gifts. Yep. I like a good gift waaaaay too much to leave the whole thing up to chance. Will The Husband remember? Should I leave hints around the house so he gets my birthday right? If I shove this jewelry flyer up his nose will he realize I want the ring on page 6? I have a few of the sentimental things from the beginning of our relationship. A flower vase, a name pin, things like that. But when it comes to gifts, well, there seems to be a genetic impairment. The Husband is prone to giving a lot of little gifts. I am prone to liking a few significant gifts. And it is my opinion that the gift should be about the recipient. In some families, believe it or not, the gift is about the giver. Seriously! Some people live like that! The way it goes is that the giver selects something they like, and presents it to you as an extension of themselves. Ok, I am going way to far off course here. That is other people.

Anyway, so a ways back in time I realized that if I wanted a good gift, I was going to have to select it myself. And by the way while I was selecting it, I may as well just go ahead and buy it. Cuts down on mistakes that way. Much less opportunity to get it wrong.

I get what I want, The Husband gets to chill, we are all happy!

So, here is the Mr. Linky thing. Go off and write about an odd little thing you do that others might find appalling. Then be sure to come back and link up here or people won't know how to find your story. Cuz that is half the fun!

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