i have been accurately placed

yesterday i took the accuplacer test.

for those who may not know this little accuracy test, it is supposed to test your knowledge of all things educational then place you accordingly.

i was not going to share my actual results on the math section until chicka was lamenting at the dinner table her terrible math skills.

“you are better than me.” i said.

“really? how?”

“i took my math test today.” they knew this was coming because i have been trying to remember math after 22 years of not remembering math.

those two periods of choir my senior year really did not help to prepare for real life, unless of course i decided to try the sing-off, x-factor, the voice, america’s got talent, britain’s got talent, mexico’s got talent, thailand’s got talent, the hamster’s got talent, and not to be forgetten, american idol; because most people who have won these events have gone to big things………

or become clay aiken who thought he was surprising the nation when he came out of the cover of people magazine.

yeah clay, we already knew.

no, sadly, it has not served me well.

“well how do you know?” she kept at me.

“i just do.”

“tell me.”

“fine! the computer kicked me off, it did not even let me finish the math section of the test!”


“serious?” this is from the hubby.

“yes, i even peeked at the guy next to me and he was doing the college math section.” it was obvious the computer has a mercy ruling, if you are needing to ride the little bus to math class, it just pulls the cord.

they don’t even allow calculators……why? who does not use a calculator?

just to give you an inkling of my math prowess, this is how my brain works when asked to solve the following question. on a different note, i killed it in the reading, comprehension, sentence structure department.

i did not let them know of my obsessive need to never capitalized or my unhealthy love of commas,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

it’s all who you channel


i cooked thanksgiving dinner for my family this year.

i was pretty sure i looked like thisthe only difference being our hair color.

not sure if this was enough, i decided to channel this lovely little lady.

i don’t even know who this is, she just looks like she would cut you if you insulted her food.

i needed that.

what i ended up with is this.

so what i guess i am trying to say is this……

my thanksgiving break totally rocked.

as usual bear and queen were up everyday of thanksgiving break between 5 and 6 am.

today is a school day.

i had to wake them up.

the adoption will be a closed adoption.

today i am grateful for toilet paper

that’s right, i said it, but not for reasons you might think.

i am grateful for quilted northern toilet paper.

this particular brand of toilet paper has made an art of making uncomfortable and what-where-they-thinking commercials.

first they had two little ladies knitting the toilet paper by hand only to inform me that if i am not using their brand of toilet paper i somehow have lint left over.

LINT. and how did they find this lint? with things that looked like hair brushes.

since i was not willing to brush my toilet paper i was forced to walk around thinking i had lint.


now they have topped themselves, and i did not think they could, now they have real live women talking telling me how they like to feel both ‘clean and pampered.’

what the…………???????

they go on to inform me that although clean is first and foremost, they like to be treated softly.

why did this  bug me?

i realized my toilet paper has been letting my down for many, many years for i am not pampered.

to end my dissertation into the oddity that is quilted northern’s toilet paper attempt to make america think about their butt more than they should, i leave you with this final blow.

now go and pamper yourselves, but stay clean doing to.

i don’t even know what to call this

today was bear’s well-child, well-check, wellness (what do they call it anyways?) physical.

shots were invovled…..three shots to be exact.

as we, bear and i, sat in the room waiting for the nurse to come in, bear pulled his shirt down and said ‘skull’

apparently he felt inking would make him man-up so i drew a skull on his chest.

he ran out into the hall to find a mirror and check the new tatt.

next he came in and pulled up his shirt to show the small of his back and said ‘bear’

so i inked his name.

again the same pilgrimage to the hall mirror to check the tatt.

he was ready for the needles or the prison yard.

i told him what would happen, it would hurt, and it is ok to be afraid.

i was.

all was well until bear saw the shots hit the counter……

“potty? potty? got to go potty?” he immediately said. so out the room, down the hall, locked in the bathroom he went.

back in the room the nurse attempted to swab his arm, he immediately took the swab, swabbed his own arm told her ‘thank you’ while handing it back, then tried to leave the room.

i said no, you have to get your shots.

“poop? gotta go poop?” he said trying to head out the door again. i shut the door and said ‘no can do.’

after this bear was like a hamster running for his life in a little room with the nurse still trying to swab his arm.

“do you think we will need help?” the nurse asked.

let me think, the last time we had to draw blood, it took 4 people to hold him and the phlebotomist to draw the blood………..i am leaning towards the affirmative in the help department.

“i’ll go get some help.” she said as she walked out the door.

she came back in with, and i swear this, doogie howser md. “do you think we’ll need more help?” he asked.

“yes.” was my immediately response upon seeing his neck was the size of my arm; one more woman came in.

odds were still in bear’s favor.

we got him up on the table and told him to lay down at which point bear says “get the ropes.”

in the end 2 more adults were brought in with me included making it 5 adults and one nurse giving the shot.

“MOM!!” he yelled for help, then realized i was part of the problem yelled “URSULA MOM!”

he was clearly insulting me.  after the last shot was administered, band-aide applied and bear let off the table, he looked at the floor where wrappers and plastic were strewn and 6 adults all looking back at him and……….he…..laughed…..at…..us.

on the way home i noticed the battery light suddenly shine brightly on the dashboard,by the time i told the hubby on the phone ‘the battery light……”  i lost all power in the dashboard.

then the motor decided to not be left out of the fun and quit too.

“i’ll call you back.” i told the hubby because although it is totally safe to talk on the cell phone and drive it is whole ‘nother ball of wax to talk and manuver a disabled vehicle off the freeway.

i would clearly need to be texting instead.

i coasted off the freeway, then was able to chug to a 7-11 gas station where i asked the clerk, who by the way was indian and made me believe, once again, that 7-11 is racial profiling against every other nationality who applies for a job. he kindly told me no, but pointed to the very next building which happened to be a jiffy lube……what luck!!!

as i walked into the bay doors i saw the other luckiest thing of my day, a midget waiting to help me.

thank you baby Jesus.

i was totally looking around for the ‘little people big world’ cameras.

we got back on the road after a jump from my little friend and made it 20 miles? when i again lose power.

what is the use of hazard lights when they are completely useless without power? the semi-truck behind me was thinking this same thing.

blinkers are totally useless as well.

i once again coasted off the freeway, into a parking lot and admitted defeat as no midget came to my rescue a second time.

so what am i grateful for today?

that it is over.




lately i have been reading some really heartwrenching blogs (each word a link) about the loss of a child.

i don’t usually go looking for tear-jerkers, one of these is a personal friend who had links to their personal friends.

it has made me think.

i love my children and knew i would always be protective of them….how did i know this?

when i brought keats, my oldest, to church for the first time a woman came up and said “i can’t believe you got that head out, it is huge.”

immediate reaction? i wanted to punch her.

reality reaction? i smiled, obviously she did not know perfection when she saw it.

another woman came up to me and said “he is cute, i mean really cute, like unexpected cute.” what exactly was she trying to say? that my womb was incapable of producing cuteness? what i did was just laugh like she was hilarious.

what i actually wanted to say was  “yeah? well where mine succeeded, your’s did not.”

and still another woman came up to me and told me to remember that this baby was just on loan to me from God and that i must do a good job.


i am not borrowing my children from anyone, not even God. if anyone thinks they can come and say ‘oh, your loan time is over, hand them back.’ my immediately reaction would be……punch them in the face.

of course i did not say this out loud, years of religious training has taught me a healthy fear of God and retaliation i mean seriously….He turned a woman into a pillar of salt just for looking over her shoulder and let’s not forget the whole flood thing. church sure brings out the best in folks.

when the ex-parte ex served me, himself, an ex-parte TRO of course i wanted to punch him for taking my kids away but again, reality set in, i just yelled at him.

so i guess what i am trying to say as my kids are all snuggled in my home and safe is that if i lost any of them i would be angry and not particularly gracious about it.

reading these blogs has made me even more thankful for the life i have. i am grateful for women out there who let us in their lives to bless our lives with perspective.

i don’t want my children to leave, i would like them to stay right here and somehow freeze time to not let the world come at them, which it inevitably will, because our life is good.

even when i ask one of my children to go clip their toenails and can see exactly where they clipped their toenails at later in the day because of the pile of clippings left on the floor, i still want the buggers around.

star trek teaching the next generation

i have introduced the brood to star trek the next generation. this morning wesley crusher was learning the dangers of drug use from lt. yar.

the way i see it, i just need to find episodes dealing with sex and drinking and my parenting job is done.

thank you next generation.

also, i have got to get me some deanna troi leotards.

i also introduced them to big bad voodoo daddy. then i realized i am introducing too much spectacular into their lives at one time.

with great spectacularness come great responsibility.

i am grateful for words

yep, today’s post is brought to you by the gratitude for words.

without words how could we ever have lines like ‘i was a tiger she wanted to tame.’ or ‘let’s get it on.’ in our music?


I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.


your first birthday is a lot like your last; you are bald, toothless and wondering why everyone is there.

not to be outdone by……

Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

we have even made it easy for the lazy amongst us by shortening the words, for example:

‘cnt w8 2 c u’  and to make the visit easier to end……’BCNU’

we have words like ‘rhinoitis’ which mean inflammation of the nose and ‘rhinoplasty’ which means hollywood.

we have words like hubris (a personal favorite) and dirge.

dirge just sounds dirty but it represents something beautiful.

don’t believe me?

listen:http://youtu.be/Iky8pgweikg, i know it is long but you get my meaning.

wait, you thought i was done?

If 4 out of 5 people SUFFER from diarrhea… does that mean that one enjoys it?


Crowded elevators smell different to midgets.


i am grateful for our normal and my soap box.

i have mentioned before that normal is just a definition of the situation AND since every situation is different, every normal is different.

last night bear conquered another milestone.

he took care of all business after using the restroom, by himself with no prompting or reminding or anyone even near the bathroom.

yes, it is a big deal.

yes, i did celebrate.

yes, he did leave the evidence on the bathroom sink, but that is just a blip on the excitement scale.

this is why i am grateful for our normal, most folk have not waited until their son is 13 years old to accomplish this.

we did.

it made it that much sweeter.

now for my soapbox.

last saturday at the weber state symphony the conductor (or maestro?) got very upset as the concert progressed.

he hit his wand (the stick of power) on the stand, then finally stopped the whole orchestra to find out where the unruly child was.

upon not finding it, he continued.

he stopped again. someone yelled out ‘it’s a handicapped kid’

to which the lovely maestro yelled back ‘i don’t care, get him out of here’

everyone turned and stared as the mother wheeled her child out.

apparently dr. michael palumbo feels that music can only be listened to one way…..his way…….in complete silence.

picture supplied for your viewing pleasure. listening to the radio this morning i heard from someone who was actually at the concert.

this individual said the child was not interrupting, was not loud or out of control. this child was enjoying the music as only this child can.

with pure joy.

i speak from experience.

when queen and bear love something……music or movies……..they watch and they also have moments when their pure joy is expressed with laughter or squeals.

bear claps after every song in the winnie the pooh movie while saying ‘bravo! bravo!’.

do any of you let yourself enjoy a moment like that?

i am glad this conductor lives in his ‘normal’ world where all are silent to enjoy his music that he neither wrote nor played at this particular event.

i am glad his world is perfect where he does not need to learn or understand others who might have another definition of perfect.

i find his social IQ to be rated somewhere around here:

IQ Range Classification
70-80 Borderline deficiency
50-69 Moron
20-49 Imbecile
below 20 Idiot