I'm really bad at this...

Aren't blogs supposed to be philosophical or something? If so, I'm horrible. I'm never philosphical. I usually get on here and bitch and complain. So, I think I'll give the philosophical thing a try.

I watched home movies last night. The first tape was all Chloe. I was about 8 months pregnant with Calle when I got my video camera. As I watched Chloe as a 2-year-old, I realized that I haven't stopped to take the time to enjoy each stage of their lives. I've taken literally thousands of pictures of them and I can't recall what made me want to capture each moment. I had to be reminded of the little things, like the way Chloe used to say "Something's terrible!" when she couldn't figure out how to open something. And Calle's tiny cry when she was a baby. I had to be reminded of what George looked like holding a tiny baby. I had actually forgotten those things.
I think it is time to -- and I know this is cliche -- stop and smell the roses. I need to enjoy those little things and not focus so hard on the big things. The big things are easy to remember, but the little things are heartbreaking to forget.

Rain, Rain, go away...

Southern Indiana has been plagued with bad weather this year. We have had ice storms, snow storms tornadoes, and rain. Now, the area is under water — literally. Last week, it rained for like 3 days straight, flooding the area completely. It seems like Chandler got the brunt of the flooding. Roads all over the town were closed and schools were on a one-hour delay Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Vanderburgh County actually closed schools on Wednesday. (I'm glad Warrick didn't close schools — they've already tacked on a day at the end of the school year to make up for the days they've missed.) It is supposed to rain again later this week. I hope we don't have a repeat!

Pics of Calle

We finally got Calle's pictures taken professionally. She hadn't had them done since she was 10 months old. I know, I'm a bad mommy. She did really good and actually smiled in most of them.

My mom just bought me a new awesome camera, so hopefully I'll remember to post more often.

A little overdue...

I'm posting some pictures of Braiden (aka Batman). Better late than never!

I'm going to Cammi's tonight so I'll try to get some more pics of the kids.

Real life Prison Break

What took the show Prison Break an entire season to do, 2 Warrick County inmates were able to do in a manner of minutes.
Sunday night, two inmates at the Warrick County jail climbed a wall in the recreation room, over razor wire and across spikes to escape. One guy was charged with sexual misconduct with a minor, the other with rape (of an 11-year-old girl), residential entry (he broke into some lady's apartment in - get this - Beaver Creek Apartments and was completely nude. Our headline read "Naked man found at Beaver Creek." Hilarious!), and various other charges in other states and counties.
Not long after they escaped, a car was stolen from the VFW. The car was found the next morning behind an Owensboro High School. The first guy was caught hours later in a house ACROSS THE STREET FROM HIS OWN HOUSE. The second guy (the one charged with rape, etc.) was captured Tuesday in Owensboro.
Since it was Tuesday and everyone else was busy, I got to go to the press conference. I was so stoked to go. I'd never been to one before. It was scheduled for 2 p.m. and I didn't leave until 1:30. I was about 5 min. late so I got stuck in the back of the room.
Since this was a federal case (he abducted an 11-year-old girl in West Virginia and took her to Ohio to rape her), the FBI and Federal Marshalls assisted in the investigation. The FBI is every bit as intimidating in person as they are on TV. One walked up behind me and was motioning to the agent and officer giving the conference to stop -- by making a slashing movement across his throat. I don't know what I was thinking, but I was sure they were after me. I kept thinking that I parked my car wrong or that someone had stolen my identity and committed horrible crimes. Needless to say, I got out of there as fast as I could and didn't look back. The experience was awesome, but I was still terrified. I know... I'm a dork. I just can't help it. Those guys are scary!

For the full story of the prison break, visit our Web site: http://www.tristate-media.com/. Check out some stuff I did, too! There's an article on the community page called Sharon students proving that Character Counts! that I'm pretty proud of.
Thanks for listening to my rantings.

It snow better down here (get it? its no better...)

Snow... snow... snow... snow...
I am so sick of ice and snow I could puke. I usually love it, but this is over kill. Ughhh!!! They have already had to tack on an extra day to the end of the school year. Ridiculous!

My terrible, awful, horrible, no-good, very bad day (but at least nobody got hurt)!

Everyone has THOSE days. You know the ones... everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Yesterday was one of those.

First, a little back story. We bought a new car. It is a 99 Intrepid with low miles and we got it for really cheap. Like, less than $1,000. But, it has a few problems. George has been trying to figure out what is wrong with it since we bought it. Needless to say, it is still sitting in the garage.

Ever since I got that new car, my old car has decided that it hates me. I mean hates me with a passion. It has always been a great car. No problems. A week and a half ago, I went out to start it and it wouldn't. George said that the battery was dead, jump-started it, and it was fine. Then, the window stopped working — while it was down. (I don't know if you realize this, but Feb. is a cold month here in southern Indiana.) I was able to get the window up most of the way, but its stuck down about 2 inches now.

So, this week, I got in it Tuesday — the day we put the paper out — and the battery was dead again. I made George get his lazy butt out of bed and jump start it.

Wednesday, I drove to work and was fine. Drove home and was fine. Got half way to Jenny's — who lives less than a block away — and my tire was suddenly completely flat and was on the rim. Those tires are new.

Thursday, I woke up about 7:15 and flipped on the news. Warrick County schools cancelled. Ok. We were expecting an ice storm later in the day, but whatever. That saved me a little time. My car was fine when I left for work. The gas station I normally go to was packed, so I decided to go to one closer to work. When i got back in it, the battery was dead. I didn't leave my lights on or anything, it was just dead. It was freezing ass cold outside and we were in the middle of an ice storm that had gotten here a little earlier than I had expected. I was pretty pissed. I called George and let him have it. He asked me to call work and see if anyone there could come jump start my car. Jennifer saved my butt. We get it back to work and it won't start again.

I call George AGAIN and tell him that my car is at work but that it won't start. He said that he will come put a new battery in it and blah blah blah. I asked him to grab my tennis shoes since it was slick as hell outside.

At 2:00, he called me and said that he couldn't find my shoes. OK. Did you get my car fixed? No, I've been looking for your shoes. FOR 5 HOURS!!?? I'll leave out the rest of the conversation. Let's just say it wasn't pretty. Oh, and his battery was dead on his car now, so he wouldn't be coming.

George and I have 5 cars. F-I-V-E. And not a single one of them ran at that time. Thinking about it a little more, in my immediate family, we have 10 cars between us — my car, George's, my mom's, my dad's, my dad's new car, the Pinto, the Firebird, the Jeep, George's old car and my new car. Only 3 of those run. And, he has the parts to fix most of them.

So I'm stuck at work with a car that won't start. Wendy, my boss, graciously offers to take me home. On our way, she commented on how grateful she was that she hadn't had any trouble out of her car. About 3 minutes later, her car over heated. I'm not kidding. I can't make this stuff up. I am a complete and total jinx. I had to laugh. What else was I to do? That may have been one of the funniest days of my life. I cannot believe that her car broke down too.

My dad came and rescued us. As we were getting ready to leave, he noticed his tire was going flat.

After we finally got to my parents house, my mom told me to not go near her car or even stand in the driveway for an extended period of time.

I'm pretty enough, I'm smart enough, and darn it, people like me

Not much is going on this week. The kids are getting over being sick, so much of my time has been devoted to their getting-betterness. Now, I'm at work waiting for a call back (or 5:00, whichever comes first).

My only story this week is about Calle. She does not like yogurt. And, she hates the fact that she doesn't like yogurt. She tries so hard to like it. She asks my mom everyday for some. Earlier this week, she threw an absolute tantrum because my dad wouldn't give her any. My dad caved and told her that she had to eat it all or she had to stand in the corner. Calle was all excited about getting yogurt (oogurt, as she calls it) and even agreed to let me help her with it. She took one bite and started crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said "I don't like oogurt." I started giggling and my dad made her go to the corner. I felt so sorry for her; she really WANTED to like it, she just didn't.

Finally, she is convinced that it is OK to not like yogurt.

I'm still convinced that she doesn't like kids and despises being one, but that's another blog.

Until next time...

Metal springs and daddies with no doodles

I have no doubt in my mind that my kids do not have ADHD. There was a time that I was a little worried, but as the years go by, I am no longer afraid. 

The other night, the kids and I were snuggled in my bed watching American Idol. We were kind of chatting back and forth, discussing the finer points of some of the contestants. Then we had this conversation:

"Mom, does your bed have metal springs," Chloe said.

"Yes," I said.

"Do they push on you all night long?"

"Yes."

"Then you should get a Temperpedic. They don't have metal springs."

I sat there dumbfounded for a couple seconds before laughing hysterically. She then asked if grandma's mattress has metal springs. I told her that she should call her.

I don't know where this kid gets it. I swear she doesn't watch that much TV. I mean, it is usually on, but she's never really paying attention.

So now for Calle's story. She is apparently fascinated by doodles now. For those who don't know, that is what we have started calling a certain piece of the male anatomy (because Chloe used to shout as we were going through Walmart "She's a girl, she has a vagina, He's a boy, he has a penis." Not particularly wanting to relive those memories). The name came from Cammi's little boy. Anyway, now Calle tells my mom about the baby she got for Christmas that has a doodle because he (ok... she says she) is a boy. Grandpa is a boy so she has a doodle. She then told my mom that daddy is a boy but he doesn't have a doodle. He has a gina. If she only knew...

I love my kids. I get on here and spill the beans about the crazy things they say and do, but I love them. They are the best entertainment in the world. I don't go a day without laughing.

Hi. My name is Emily and I am an addict.

I have a new addiction. The Courier & Press's Web site has a comment forum for all the stories they post. I am addicted to posting and arguing with people. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am an addict. I guess its the debate aspect. Whatever it is, I'm hooked. Yes, I know they're the "competition." Yes, I realize that it is a little wussy hiding behind a keyboard. But its fun. I spent the majority of last week arguing the finer points of electing Hillary Clinton president. Of course, living in the good 'ol south (because southern Indiana wants to believe it is in the south), I'm a traitor for not being a Republican. I was completely torn apart, accused of being a professor at U of E, called a socialist and told how stupid I was. I loved every minute of it.

So, if anyone wants to debate, visit the Courier & Press's Web site. I'll be there. 

New pics! Let me know what you think!

OK...I haven't written anything in a while. Sorry!

Good news — my brother and the CW are DONE!! I'm so glad that he finally woke up and saw reason. (For those of you that don't know what CW means, call me and I'll tell ya.) 

Even better news!

Batman emerged from the Batcave today. He weighs 6 lbs. 9 oz. and is 19 in. long. I haven't seen him yet, but I'm leaving soon to go meet him. I can't wait!

Chloe thought it would be fun to stab Calle with a knitting needle this weekend. It went all the way through her tongue. I wasn't there. Good thing; I would have passed out.

Ummm...Really not much else going on right now. I'm posting two of the pics I took this weekend. Calle is a little hard to get pics of but I think I did OK. Chloe is photogenic as always.

I will commence my rants tomorrow, along with a pic of Batman!

Pot-smoking 5-year-old???

So, Chloe, my oldest daughter, asked my husband if people really smoke weed. WHAT!? What the hell does a 5 year old know about smoking weed? And what do you say? Then she asked me if I ever did drugs when I was younger. You know, I thought I had a lot longer to ponder the answer to these questions. It is really saying something that a 5 year old kid in kindergarten is asking about these things. "Yes, honey. I used to get stoned out of my mind." or "Yes, honey. We used to smoke blunts all the time." I'm a little beyond freaking out. SHE IS 5!!!

I am in the process of photoshopping a "photoshoot" I did with the girls. I'll get some pics up here ASAP.

By the way, for those of you wondering, I totally lied to her. I'm not telling my little girl that I used to be a stoner. She is definitely not ready for those stories.

Venting...

I am really looking forward to the weekend. It seems like this week has just drug on and on...

My New Year's resolution is going well, so far. I'm not telling anyone what it is because I don't want to jinx it. 

This weekend will be a lazy, boring weekend spent at home with the kids. It doesn't get much better than that.

Please note that I do not have internet access at home, so I will not blog on the weekends. I only get on the computer when I get paid to do so. Same goes for my email and myspace page. Sorry. If you need me on the weekends, call me.

But, I do need to vent a little.

People need to learn how to move on. We have dealt with several people at work this week that can't let go of the past and look to the future. I realize how hard it has to be to lose a child to suicide. I can't fathom the pain and loss a family goes through when something like that happens. But after a year, it is time to pick up the pieces and move on. Spending time yelling at people about the situation and telling people how hard it was to lose a child or sibling to suicide is not going to change anything. And, its no one's fault. The only person to blame is the person who took their own life. Deal with it and move on. Don't ever forget that person. Always hold a piece of them in your heart, but move on. You can't stop living when someone dies.

And finally...

When you own a business, especially a child care business, and you have your license revoked for abusing and neglecting children, there is no vindication for that. Anything you do, besides laying low and avoiding people, is going to drag your name through the dirt. Do not start a Web site saying that CPS is the ones hurting children. Do not publish documents proving your guilt on a Web site trying to prove your innocence. Do not threaten to sue me if you have no grounds. I'm not even mad. I find the whole thing funny. But don't threaten me. I have more proof than  you know. And SLANDER is spoken. LIBEL is written. I did look it up. It is a very interesting subject. You've done it to several people also. To quote you, the CPS is "condescending bitches." I have all the documents printed out.  If you want a fight, bring it baby! I don't look like a hillbilly on crack and I know how to spell and use proper grammar. Maybe you should educate  yourself. Get a life. No one cares what you think.

Welcome!

So, I'm finally a blogger. I hope you all enjoy. I'm putting up some older pics of my girls. Chloe is always the photogenic one. Calle is more shy and doesn't really like to smile for pictures. I'm sure that I'll probably end up with more pictures of Chloe. I'm sure I'll have more to write about later.

My scare of the day

I was sitting at work this morning when I heard  call come over the scanner. It said that there had been an accident with injuries in front of Fisher Brothers Lumber in Chandler. I can't explain it, but I knew that it was my brother. I kept listening and I heard them say that the driver was having a seizure. I immediately called my mom and told her what I had heard. She, of course, dropped everything and ran to the scene. I called her a few minutes later and she said that it was him and to call my dad immediately. I'm panicked when I call my dad and relay the message. I dropped everything at work and got in my car. After the longest trip from Boonville to Chandler ever, I turned on to Iowa Street and saw my brother's car vertical in a ditch. I ran to the police car sitting behind it and asked where my brother was. He pointed me in the direction of an ambulance. My brother was sitting in the ambulance. Perfectly fine. I mean, he was a little out of it, just having a seizure, but otherwise fine. No blood. No broken bones. He was so lucky.

After a little coaxing, we discovered that he had not had his anti-seizure medication for a couple days.  A COUPLE DAYS!!?? He is supposed to have it everyday. Several times a day. And he hadn't had it for a couple days. He was too proud to admit to my parents that he was out of his prescription. After they asked him about it repeatedly, he lied and lied. He lied to the paramedics in the ambulance. He lied to me. He lied to everyone he came in contact with. 

So now, my worry and concern has turned into good, old-fashioned anger. After finally getting his car home (a wrecker had to pull his car from the ditch and my dad and I pulled it home. The wrecker cost my parents $60 just to pull it out.), I laid into him. I told him that he could have killed someone. I told him that I love him and don't want to see him hurt. I yelled at him and told him my kids need an uncle. I told him I need a brother.

If this were the first time, I'd understand. I did understand the first time. A couple years ago, he was driving to Boonville and pulled over because he felt a seizure coming on. He was literally inches from a telephone pole. Just a couple months ago, my mom got a call from the police because my brother was in a CVS store stumbling around and incoherent. If the police officer hadn't known any better, he could have arrested him for suspected public intoxication.

I know it has to suck to be in his situation. I can't imagine what it is like for him day in and day out. He can't drink, he's tied to these meds for the rest of his life. He has to watch his diet. He has to take care to get enough sleep. Especially being a mom, I can't comprehend what that would be like. I know it has to be a tough life.

But on the other hand, I have to see it from both angles. He knew that he hadn't taken his medication, but he drove. He knew that he would probably have a seizure, but he drove. He knew that he could kill someone, but he drove. So here I am, angry and having to run all the scenarios through my head. What makes people get behind the wheel when they know they shouldn't? Isn't he, in some capacity, playing God? Isn't he taking the lives of everyone else on the roads into his hands when he gets behind the wheel like this?

I know that some people will say that he has a guardian angel on his shoulder and that he is so lucky. I think he's been lucky to this point but everything is going to change now. At least, I hope it does.