Thursday, December 17, 2009
Been Thinking...
I have had so many thoughts going threw my head latley and it is driving me crazy! some are good thoughts and well others not so good. I just wish what do about things in my life from my hubby to well everything. Latley my son has been driving me insane and so i snap at him over the smallest of things and then I feel horribel and cry because he really didnt do anything wrong it just me. Same with Thomas I just have been so snappy and really have no reason to be... Ugh I really hope i figure out what my deal is soon I hate when i feel like this...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Today...
Today was a pretty good day so far. Got my laundry done I just need to fold and put it up and I am going to do that tonight while little man is in the bath. I dont know whats wrong with me but I have not been sleeping good and I even take sleeping pills so I am zombie during the day so today I layed down for 2 hours and never went to sleep which was really annoying but i felt rested when I got up. I better get some sleep tonight I have a lot to do tomorrow lets see got to do some grocery shopping and the going to do some wrapping and then going over to my moms and help her with her tree since she still has not put it up and christmas is next week. She is being a slacker this year when I was a kid she would have the tree up the day after Thanksgiving!! She has been sick so I am going to be an awesome daughter and go help her. Thomas is working his 16 hrs today so I wont see him till tomorrow afternoon. Then I am going to Amanda's this weekend we have an hair appoinment on friday and then saturday we are going to do some wrapping she has a crap load to wrap! She is so much better at wrapping then me but it is fun sitting there and just catching up with each other. Oh and her brother will be in town so it will be good to see him I didnt get to see him when he was down for Thanksgiving. Well that is all for now. Have a good day everyone!!!!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
An Adventure With Grandma
An Adventure With Grandma
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was
just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to
visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled
to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.
I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the
truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed
with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be
true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between
bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No
Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes
me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished
my second world-famous, cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one
store in town that had a little bit of just about every-
thing. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me
ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. 'Take this
money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs
it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with
my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by
myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few
moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-
dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to
buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my
neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my
church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly
thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and
messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's
grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew
that because he never went out or recess during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he
had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby
Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It
looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a
Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes," I re-
lied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at
me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag
and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas
paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and
Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and write, "To Bobby, From
Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always
insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's
house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and
she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his
front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa
Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back
to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited
breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa
Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
Anonymous
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was
just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to
visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled
to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.
I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the
truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed
with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be
true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between
bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No
Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes
me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished
my second world-famous, cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one
store in town that had a little bit of just about every-
thing. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me
ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. 'Take this
money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs
it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with
my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by
myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few
moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-
dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to
buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my
neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my
church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly
thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and
messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's
grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew
that because he never went out or recess during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he
had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby
Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It
looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a
Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes," I re-
lied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at
me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag
and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas
paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and
Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and write, "To Bobby, From
Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always
insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's
house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and
she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his
front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa
Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back
to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited
breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa
Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
Anonymous
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was
just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to
visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled
to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.
I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the
truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed
with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be
true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between
bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No
Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes
me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished
my second world-famous, cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one
store in town that had a little bit of just about every-
thing. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me
ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. 'Take this
money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs
it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with
my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by
myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few
moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-
dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to
buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my
neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my
church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly
thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and
messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's
grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew
that because he never went out or recess during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he
had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby
Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It
looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a
Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes," I re-
lied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at
me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag
and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas
paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and
Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and write, "To Bobby, From
Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always
insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's
house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and
she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his
front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa
Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back
to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited
breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa
Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
Anonymous
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was
just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to
visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled
to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.
I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the
truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed
with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be
true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between
bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No
Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes
me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished
my second world-famous, cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one
store in town that had a little bit of just about every-
thing. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me
ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. 'Take this
money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs
it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with
my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by
myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few
moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-
dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to
buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my
neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my
church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly
thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and
messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's
grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew
that because he never went out or recess during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he
had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby
Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It
looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a
Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes," I re-
lied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at
me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag
and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas
paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and
Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and write, "To Bobby, From
Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always
insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's
house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and
she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his
front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa
Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back
to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited
breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa
Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
Anonymous
Monday, December 14, 2009
My son...
Oh today has been a very lazy day I have done nothing! we have been just laying around and took a long nap and I am still tired! I went to bed at 2:00 am and was up at 8:00 am since my wonderful son decided to get up and go put in The Polar Express! We didn't even hear him get out of bed and he sleeps in our room!!! We heard a train whistle and that is how we knew he was up!!! OH what I am going to do with that little boy he is getting so big so fast!!!! We got his test scores back and she said that he is below average but they way the score is it by numbers and it is 85-115 and his score is 83 and his other is 77 so I really need to work with him she said she recommends speech therphy but my insurance doesn't cover it unless he falls under a list that they have and he doesn't. So she told me some ideas that my work and I am thinking of some things to do with him. When my husband goes to midnights alot is going to change and we are going to be on a better schedule. I feel like it is my fault that he is behind. Elijah is so smart he is thinker and he trys to figure things out I just feel like a the a horrible mother and that I am not giving my son everything he needs. I just don't know what to do, what if he is behind his whole life? I don't want him to end up like me hating school because he doesnt understand what he is being taught or whatever. I just feel liked i failed him as a mother. so we will see how this year goes and pray that he catches up!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
I am ....
I am blessed with so many people in my life that truly care about me and I forget that so I wanted to say thank you to all you of you who love me for me and don't try to change me. You are all amazing people I love you with all my heart!!!!
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