I have fairly strong opinions. If you are a reader of this blog, or happen to know me in real life or even just on facebook, I expect you know that. Not only do I have strong opinions, I have lots of them. On just about everything. And not only do I have strong opinions on just about everything, they are mostly fairly well supported opinions. Which means, if your opinion differs from mine, though I will listen to you, it is unlikely my opinion will change. Not only will my opinions not change, I might stomp yours into the ground, if it isn't well supported. Yep, I know it is kind of a jerk thing to do, and I don't really mean to be a jerk, it just happens sometimes. We all have our cross to bear.
I don't understand people who don't have opinions about things. Boggles the mind, really. My opinion of people who don't have strong opinions? Weirdos, one and all.
The Man of the House and I occasionally have discussions about this, because, for the most part, he does not hold strong opinions on a lot of things. Obviously, I think he is crazy.
Having opinions on things can put one in a stronger position, albeit one that sometimes annoys the living crap out of one's associates.
For instance, if you are hanging out with me and I say, "what would you like to do?" And you say, "Eh, I don't care" I will take you at your word. Since, odds are, I have an opinion about what I would like to do. If you do not voice your opinion, then mine trumps it by forfeit. Benefit for me! Sucks for you if you actually do care. I am willing to take your opinion into account, but only if you let me know you have one!
Lately, I have had opinions on lots of things. Oh, wait, I always have opinions on lots of things. But, I have VOCALIZED my opinions on things lately.
Par example-
I have an opinion about Park51, the Muslim Community Center proposed for Manhattan. Don't call it the Ground Zero Mosque, because it isn't at Ground Zero.
I have an opinion about certain rectally-cranially inverted Happy Valleyites who felt the need to voice their displeasure at a certain local business for having the audacity to allow polygamists to patronize said business. I think they are idiot bigots. The Happy Valleyites, not the business, nor the polygamists.
I have an opinion about opposite sex friendships. I think they are awesome. Let me emphasize the friendship. Nothing more, nothing less. I, personally, do not look on all members of the opposite sex as simply opportunities for sex. I think there may be a bit more to said people than that.
I have an opinion on gay rights, universal healthcare, stupid people, education, cheese, etiquette, funny words, books you should read, reality tv...you name it.
And I don't mind sharing them.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sorry Kaytee!
I promised Kaytee some new posts quite a while ago and I have not delivered. Oops. It gets stressful around here, sometimes, and it takes some doing to write a blog post. Which doing I do not always care to do. But, I know I should, as this really is supposed to be something of a record of my life, aside from entertaining the people who actually do read it.
I always wonder, though, why they do. Why do you? Because you find my opinions fascinating? I mean, I think my opinions are fascinating, but I am pretty aware that not everyone shares that view. ;)
Halloween is coming up. I love Halloween in abstract. It appeals to the costumer that still dwells within me. It appeals to the child in me that loves to play dressup, to the imagination that allows me to be, in real life, what I sometimes pretend to be or wish to be in my head.
But then, life has this annoying habit of getting in my way! October is such a busy season with weddings and all, that by the time I really think about getting down to the planning of the costumes, it is the week before Halloween and I am just too tired to really care. So, The Small One usually ends up with something pretty cool. My niece usually gets something nice, and me? Yeah, year after year I end up having to dig through my box of costume crap and try and come up with something. Now, grant you, I have a pretty good costume box, so even my thrown together costumes are pretty cool. Just not as cool as they would be if I actually got around to making something for myself. Alas.
I will post pictures of Halloween, though, rest assured. Kaytee, I will not disappoint!
The Small One is going to be "Blue Alice" as she calls it, from the new Alice in Wonderland. The Man of the House will be dressing up as The Mad Hatter. Spoiled niece will be going as Alice in the Red Queen's castle. The Small One thinks I ought to go as The Red Queen (whom she calls Red Queen Alice's Mom), but I don't have the energy or time to do that costume at this point. Bummer, would have been fun. She has also suggested once or twice that I go as the Bandersnatch, but I vetoed that one.
In other news, The Small One's humour still abounds. The other morning, I lay in bed with my hands tucked behind my head. She grabbed my elbow and pulled, telling me to put my arms down. I asked why? "Because peoples don't like to look at your armpits." Why not? I queried. At this juncture, she released my elbow prodded said armpit and announced, "Because, they are all wild or somethin'." Nice. My armpits are wild. Thing is, it isn't like they were unshaven or anything. They simply offended her for some reason.
She is turning into a right little drama queen, lately. I think it has something to do with being three? At least, that is what I like to believe. And that she will grow out of it, right? RIGHT?
Anyhoo, she has taken to throwing these utterly idiotic and annoying tantrums, which drive me batty, so when they occur, if we are home (how is this for a run on sentence!?!) I send her to her room. Where she howls. A few days ago, upon my sending her to her room, she ran in, cast herself upon the floor and proceeded to give voice in a most melodramatic fashion, as follows.
"JEEEEEEESSSUUUUUSSSSS!!!!! Where have you gone? I want to come to your house! Jeeessuuuussss!!! What did I do?"
I jest not. This actually happened. I think she must be channeling her Southern Baptist roots. I did not know that religion could be inbred like that.
In yet other, though related as pertains to her, news, she likes Dance class. Whew. Like big WHEW! She still whines at me when it is time to get ready, as she suffers from social anxiety, but once she sees how incredibly cute she is in her ballet attire, all is well. And I am not kidding, all it takes is for her to see herself in leo, pink tights and bun and she is rarin' to go. The spazziness that seems to be inherent pops up in dance class, and all I can say is that her teacher is unfailingly patient. The child does not follow directions, spaces off mid exercise and likes to admire herself in the studio mirrors. Not a surprise, really, and I warned dance teacher about it. Dance teacher is sweet and kind and gently takes the child by the hand to lead her back into what she is supposed to do.
Much nicer than me. When I want her attention, it goes more like this.
Me-Small One.
Small One-......
Me-Small One!
SO-......
Me-Small One!!!!
SO-......
Me-SMALL ONE!!!!!! HEY!!!! I AM TALKING TO YOU!!!!! PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR MOTHER!!!!!!
SO-......
At which point I generally poke her with something or flick her ear. Occasionally I have been known to chuck a pillow in her direction. Sometimes it works.
Here's the thing. You can shout at her until the cows come home and if she is distracted, she WILL NOT HEAR YOU. But if you open a candy wrapper in the basement while she is upstairs watching TV? You can bet that the stair door will open and a sweet voice will echo down the stairwell saying, "Hey, can I have some candy, too?"
I always wonder, though, why they do. Why do you? Because you find my opinions fascinating? I mean, I think my opinions are fascinating, but I am pretty aware that not everyone shares that view. ;)
Halloween is coming up. I love Halloween in abstract. It appeals to the costumer that still dwells within me. It appeals to the child in me that loves to play dressup, to the imagination that allows me to be, in real life, what I sometimes pretend to be or wish to be in my head.
But then, life has this annoying habit of getting in my way! October is such a busy season with weddings and all, that by the time I really think about getting down to the planning of the costumes, it is the week before Halloween and I am just too tired to really care. So, The Small One usually ends up with something pretty cool. My niece usually gets something nice, and me? Yeah, year after year I end up having to dig through my box of costume crap and try and come up with something. Now, grant you, I have a pretty good costume box, so even my thrown together costumes are pretty cool. Just not as cool as they would be if I actually got around to making something for myself. Alas.
I will post pictures of Halloween, though, rest assured. Kaytee, I will not disappoint!
The Small One is going to be "Blue Alice" as she calls it, from the new Alice in Wonderland. The Man of the House will be dressing up as The Mad Hatter. Spoiled niece will be going as Alice in the Red Queen's castle. The Small One thinks I ought to go as The Red Queen (whom she calls Red Queen Alice's Mom), but I don't have the energy or time to do that costume at this point. Bummer, would have been fun. She has also suggested once or twice that I go as the Bandersnatch, but I vetoed that one.
In other news, The Small One's humour still abounds. The other morning, I lay in bed with my hands tucked behind my head. She grabbed my elbow and pulled, telling me to put my arms down. I asked why? "Because peoples don't like to look at your armpits." Why not? I queried. At this juncture, she released my elbow prodded said armpit and announced, "Because, they are all wild or somethin'." Nice. My armpits are wild. Thing is, it isn't like they were unshaven or anything. They simply offended her for some reason.
She is turning into a right little drama queen, lately. I think it has something to do with being three? At least, that is what I like to believe. And that she will grow out of it, right? RIGHT?
Anyhoo, she has taken to throwing these utterly idiotic and annoying tantrums, which drive me batty, so when they occur, if we are home (how is this for a run on sentence!?!) I send her to her room. Where she howls. A few days ago, upon my sending her to her room, she ran in, cast herself upon the floor and proceeded to give voice in a most melodramatic fashion, as follows.
"JEEEEEEESSSUUUUUSSSSS!!!!! Where have you gone? I want to come to your house! Jeeessuuuussss!!! What did I do?"
I jest not. This actually happened. I think she must be channeling her Southern Baptist roots. I did not know that religion could be inbred like that.
In yet other, though related as pertains to her, news, she likes Dance class. Whew. Like big WHEW! She still whines at me when it is time to get ready, as she suffers from social anxiety, but once she sees how incredibly cute she is in her ballet attire, all is well. And I am not kidding, all it takes is for her to see herself in leo, pink tights and bun and she is rarin' to go. The spazziness that seems to be inherent pops up in dance class, and all I can say is that her teacher is unfailingly patient. The child does not follow directions, spaces off mid exercise and likes to admire herself in the studio mirrors. Not a surprise, really, and I warned dance teacher about it. Dance teacher is sweet and kind and gently takes the child by the hand to lead her back into what she is supposed to do.
Much nicer than me. When I want her attention, it goes more like this.
Me-Small One.
Small One-......
Me-Small One!
SO-......
Me-Small One!!!!
SO-......
Me-SMALL ONE!!!!!! HEY!!!! I AM TALKING TO YOU!!!!! PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR MOTHER!!!!!!
SO-......
At which point I generally poke her with something or flick her ear. Occasionally I have been known to chuck a pillow in her direction. Sometimes it works.
Here's the thing. You can shout at her until the cows come home and if she is distracted, she WILL NOT HEAR YOU. But if you open a candy wrapper in the basement while she is upstairs watching TV? You can bet that the stair door will open and a sweet voice will echo down the stairwell saying, "Hey, can I have some candy, too?"
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Wow, go me.
So, it seems I am a lousy blogger. I want to post more often, really I do, but I just don't seem to be able to find the time and/or motivation! I know, it is terrible, especially because this is supposed to be documenting the childhood of The Small One. And she says and does the funniest things, too, which of course, I cannot remember if I don't write them down. Yep, I am lame.
Anyhoo, let's see if we can catch some stuff up here.
The Small One started preschool in August and well, it did not go well. I thought she would do okay, since her teacher was our backyard neighbor, but oh. I was wrong. I guess going from being at home with Mamma to going to a large school with 18 kids in your class is a bit of a jump. Guess I should have thought of that, since it cost me over $200 for the three weeks she managed to attend. I had hoped she would get over her fear but when she started waking in the middle of the night crying and asking if she had to go to school, well, that put an end to it.
I decided that perhaps we would be better off starting small and then working our way up to prescchool. So, with that in mind, I enrolled her in a creative movement class at the ballet school near us.
Well, as I sit here typing this, The Small One is next to me on the couch howling about how she doesn't want to go to dance class. Great. Awesome. She is going to go anyway, like it or not because there are no refunds with this place. But UGH!!!! It seems I have ruined my child by being a stay at home mom. She doesn't get babysat by anyone but my mom or my niece. She only plays at a couple of friends' homes (who live very nearby) and she doesn't interact with very many children who are not her cousins. So now what? Well, I guess I just hope that she gets used to going to dance class and learns to enjoy it.
A couple of weeks ago, Grandpa Ed stayed the night here. The Small One stayed up a bit late to visit with him, so the next morning she slept in quite late. I finally went in to get her up and she sleepily looked at me and said "Is it time to get ready for church?" No, I assured her that it was not Sunday. "Is it a school day?" No, not a school day. At which point, she gave me a little push, rolled over and said, "Then go out, I want to have a few more sleeps." So, out I went. Silly infant.
Anyhoo, let's see if we can catch some stuff up here.
The Small One started preschool in August and well, it did not go well. I thought she would do okay, since her teacher was our backyard neighbor, but oh. I was wrong. I guess going from being at home with Mamma to going to a large school with 18 kids in your class is a bit of a jump. Guess I should have thought of that, since it cost me over $200 for the three weeks she managed to attend. I had hoped she would get over her fear but when she started waking in the middle of the night crying and asking if she had to go to school, well, that put an end to it.
I decided that perhaps we would be better off starting small and then working our way up to prescchool. So, with that in mind, I enrolled her in a creative movement class at the ballet school near us.
Well, as I sit here typing this, The Small One is next to me on the couch howling about how she doesn't want to go to dance class. Great. Awesome. She is going to go anyway, like it or not because there are no refunds with this place. But UGH!!!! It seems I have ruined my child by being a stay at home mom. She doesn't get babysat by anyone but my mom or my niece. She only plays at a couple of friends' homes (who live very nearby) and she doesn't interact with very many children who are not her cousins. So now what? Well, I guess I just hope that she gets used to going to dance class and learns to enjoy it.
A couple of weeks ago, Grandpa Ed stayed the night here. The Small One stayed up a bit late to visit with him, so the next morning she slept in quite late. I finally went in to get her up and she sleepily looked at me and said "Is it time to get ready for church?" No, I assured her that it was not Sunday. "Is it a school day?" No, not a school day. At which point, she gave me a little push, rolled over and said, "Then go out, I want to have a few more sleeps." So, out I went. Silly infant.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
