Not So Fascinating Facts About Me

I got this cute little meme from Jennifer over at It's a Beauty Filled Life

1. Name someone with the same birthday as you.
I was born on John Lennon's 20th birthday.

2. Where was your first kiss?
I'm ashamed to say it was in the agriculture classroom (our school had a 4H program and I was dating a farmer - lucky me) and I know now that he wasn't a very good kisser. But the next guy was! I can still remember what a good kisser that guy was. Of course he's probably in jail now, he was definitely a bad boy type.

3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property?
No, I don't think I have, but I had my car keyed once - I deserved it. I totally stole this lady's parking space.

4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Yes, my son and I whomp on each other pretty frequently, but it's all in fun. I did get very angry and throw something at my husband once, but fortunately it was light plastic and didn't hurt him.

5. Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
Frequently. I've been in various choirs since elementary school. I don't do solos though. I tried it once, in a bar, but I guess it was pretty bad. I get nervous when I sing by myself.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about your preferred sex?
Probably his smile and definitely his hands. And then his chest. I like a nice chest. It's a priority for me.

7. What really turns you off?
Rude people, gross talk (anything having to do with bodily functions), disrespectful behavior, vulgar language

8. What do you order at Starbucks?
I'm cheap, so I don't go to Starbucks unless I'm on an expense account. On the rare occasions I do go, I get a Caramel Mochiatto.

9. What is your biggest mistake?
Staying with bad boyfriends. I had several bad boyfriends I stuck with for way too long and it probably kept me from meeting some really nice guys.

10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Nope, not my thing. I try to avoid pain whenever possible.

11. Say something totally random about yourself
I nearly drowned when I was little, so I am terrified of water on my face. I never swim with my face in the water and I can even take a shower without getting a drop of water on my face.

12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
No. They tell me I look like their Aunt or their Cousin and I always get the idea that it's not a very attractive Aunt or Cousin - sigh.

13. Do you still watch kiddie movies or TV shows?
Yes, but I hate the new cartoons. They are so weird. SpongeBob and the Last Avatar are about the only ones I'll let Blake watch.

14. Did you have braces?
Nope, my teeth started out crooked, but came in nice and straight all by themselves. Unfortunately, this didn't transfer to my boys. All three have needed braces.

15. Are you comfortable with your height?
No, I would have loved to be a couple of inches taller. 5'4" is a little short.

16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the preferred sex has done for you?
I dunno. I'm still waiting....

17. When do you know its love?
When they get sick with a "man cold" and you take care of them without laughing at them.

18. Do you speak any other languages?
Heck, I barely speak English.

19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Yeah, but I don't make a big habit of it. Maybe a couple of times a year.

20. What magazines do you read?
People and other celebrity magazine. I've gotten the Oprah mag for several years, but I never get around to reading the whole thing. It seems too much like work.

21. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Hmmm. You know I never have. You offering?

22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?

That's a tough one. I'm actually a double orphan. Both of my parents and both of my in-laws have passed away, along with nearly all of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and my mother's best friend. Plus my best friend passed away a few years ago. It's sad. In fact, today was the 5th anniversary of my mother's passing. But what can you do? You deal with the hand you are dealt.

23. Do you watch MTV?
No, not really.

24. What’s something that really annoys you?
My inability to fix things I want to change about myself, like my weight.

25. What’s something you really like?
Naps, soft fuzzy sweaters, and cats. I like dogs, but I LOVE cats!

26. Do you like Michael Jackson?
Yes, I did like him as an entertainer, but not as a person. Although I do have a theory that explains a lot of the weirdness. I think he had a physical defect in his male development. I don't know how they managed to keep it a secret all these years, but it explains why he was so obsessed with his appearance and why he couldn't have normal relationships.

27. Can you dance?
Surprisingly for someone my size, I'm quite a dancer. I have square danced, clogged, and country danced for most of my life. I can also waltz quite nicely and do a great fox trot.

28. What’s the latest you have ever stayed up?
I'm quite the night owl. Back when we were dating, my husband and I used to regularly stay out until 4 or 5 in the morning and then sleep all day. I still regularly stay up until 12:30 or 1 in the morning.

29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
No, I have been in the ER a couple of times, but not by ambulance.

30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
Yes, I actually like these things.

I'm not really a tagger. I don't like to feel like I'm putting people under obligation, but if this looks like fun and you want to use it on your blog - knock yourself out!

By TwitterButtons.com

Theo the devil dog

Isn't this just the most adorable puppy? His name was Theo and he was just a six week old ball of fur when we got him. A beautiful and very expensive pure bred Golden Retriever fresh from the local pet shop. We were in heaven and thought we'd picked the perfect dog for us. Little did we know what was in store for us.

Our first clue came on the very first day - when he chewed through the power cord on my computer. Oh well, puppies nibble on things I said, as I was shelling out $70 to replace it.

The next day, he ate the plastic tray out of his puppy crate. Then he chewed my wall hanging off the wall and ate a hole in the mattress in the guest room. So we moved him to the garage. Even though he was in a cage, he ate the bra off my husband's truck and 20 feet of extension cord.

We moved him out to the backyard. He ate all the acorns and apples - they aren't supposed to be good for dogs and aren't very edible, but when you've got three huge oak trees, what can you do? There were 10 million of them around the yard and seemed to be his favorite snack. The next week, he chewed through the cable wires on the back of the house.

We did try to work with him. We took him to puppy kindergarten. We got the videos and tried all the leash training. We used all the proper training techniques and the right authoritative voices, no luck. Theo ran through the house, refused to walk on a leash and chewed everything in sight.

The trainer remarked that he was overly "alpha". Not only was he a nightmare around other dogs, he was rough with Blake. From the beginning, he seemed to regard him as a littermate and wouldn't ever listen to him. He would run away from him and jump all over him. He was also showing unmistakable signs of being, um, "attracted" to him.


By now, Blake was a somewhat petite 9 year old and Theo was a pretty robust year-old dog. One morning, while I was in the shower, Blake went out into the backyard to play with Theo before school. Theo got his leg in his mouth and started dragging him around the yard. Blake was terrified and yelling for help, but I couldn't hear a thing. Finally, he managed to get a stick and beat the dog off of him. That scared me so bad, that dog was gone in 24 hours.

No, we didn't send him to the pound or palm him off on some other unsuspecting family, we found a breeder who wanted him for breeding purposes. Last we heard, he was very happy there and had fathered a couple of litters of very cute puppies.

But we did keep one souvenir to remember him by.



This has been one of the writer's prompts from Mamakat's Losin It. Join in the fun over at her blog.








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The Adventures of Bob

Meet Bob. If you've noticed, Bob is a goldfish. You may have also noticed that he is currently residing in a flower vase. That's because Bob was an unexpected and somewhat unwelcome guest.

The story of how Bob came to reside in the CrazyHouse is actually pretty funny. Last month, Blake and I went to Cornbelly's. Click Cornbelly's to see some highlights and pictures from last year's visit. It's a combination corn maze and Fall festival with lots of fun games and activities for the kids. It's our favorite Halloween tradition.

So, Blake was doing the Paintball activity, where you shoot these paintballs at targets. The boy behind the counter said that they were offering a special prize just for that night. If you hit a special target, you get a goldfish. Immediately, I said "Blake, don't hit that one, we don't want a fish". I like cats and dogs, but I hate fish. They're so messy and they always die and then the kid is all heartbroken, so you go out and get them another one and it's just an unbreakable cycle.

Well, of course, the little stinker takes aim and immediately hits the special target - damn it! So the boy reaches behind the counter and gives him one of those little plastic bags with the goldfish in it. Oh goody.

So, for the rest of the evening, we're carrying this darn fish around and everyone is asking us where we got the fish. At one point, he even had one of the workers "babysitting" the darn thing so he could go on the rides, so I had some random girl come up to me and ask if Bob was still doing OK. And I'm kind of wondering because no one else seems to have a fish.

Finally, by the end of the evening I figured it out. Someone must have given that boy a fish that he didn't want, so he hit on this brilliant idea of giving it away to some random little kid as a prize. Yeah, MY random kid - ugh. That is how Bob came to be living in my flower vase on my kitchen counter....


PS: I did have to add that Bob does seem to be a pretty smart goldfish. Like everything else around here, he has learned to beg for food. I'm serious. It's hilarious. Whenever he sees one of us come near his bowl, he swims to the side of the bowl and goes crazy until one of us drops in a few crumbs of food. At least he's a smart goldfish!

By TwitterButtons.com

Glenn Doman on Working Mothers

This man is my hero and I figured it was about time I devoted a post to him. He's a little old Santa Claus of a man, but over the last 50 or so years, he has given children so much more than toys. His name is Glenn Doman and he has literally devoted his life to helping parents with their children, both well children and brain injured children. He comes from a little place you've probably never heard of, The Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential in Philadelphia (IAHP.org). The reason why I owe him so much is a long story for another post tomorrow. But maybe if you read this article he wrote, you'll get an idea of why I admire him so much.

I believe the only outright lie my mother ever told was when, having been retired at seventy-five from a large Philadelphia department store, she had found a new job at seventy-seven years of age in a small department store by telling them she was sixty-five.

One day in 1984, when Mother was eighty-six years old, I had stopped by the store to pick her up from work.

I had always thought of Mother as a rather tall woman, but as we walked to the car I noticed how I towered over her.

"Mother you must have shrunken a good deal in recent years. How tall were you at your tallest?"

"I was almost five foot tall," said my mother, looking up and smiling proudly.

I spent a long time thinking about why I had always thought of my tiny mother as being tall.

I guess it was because all of her life she had been a working mother, although she got her first outside job when the last of her kids was twenty.

My mother did it the way all of the other creatures of the earth do it. They spend every moment with their young until they are able to take care of themselves and then the parents do what they want to do. What my mother wanted to do after we were successfully raised was to get an outside job, which she held until it suited her to die at eighty-six.

From the time we were born until we went to school at six, Mother spent virtually every moment of her life with us. But if anyone had suggested to Mother that she wasn't a working mother, she would have laughed for fifteen minutes.

My mother, like all the other mothers in our middle-class, depression-wracked neighborhood, managed to cook (on an old wood stove), wash the dishes (with water heated on the wood stove), wash her family's clothing (without a washing machine), mend everything that needed mending (and everything needed mending in those almost no-money days without a sewing machine), tend the coal furnace, put out the ashes, be helpful to the neighbors, take loving care of Dad, and simultaneously teach her three kids to read and do a host of other wonderful things long before any of the three of us saw a teacher.

Am I leading you to imagine that she was a care-worn hag prematurely old? Disabuse yourself of the notion. My mother was a tiny, beautiful woman and what small lines there were in her face were from smiling. I guess Mother wasn't very smart about raising kids; she thought kids were the greatest invention since sky, rivers, forests, squirrels and singing house wrens. Dad wasn't any smarter in that regard.

My guess is that Mother and Dad averaged eighteen-hour working days and managed to give their kids tremendous love and respect for the joys of reading and acquiring knowledge before we ever saw a teacher. Both they and we were simple-minded enough to believe we were having the time of our lives.

Is it possible to work like the devil inside (or outside) the home and still find great pleasure in teaching your baby a host of splendid things during those all-important first six years of life? It is!

Working mothers can teach their tiny kids to read and do other splendid things, and thousands of them have and are doing so.

Come to think of it, I don't believe I ever met a mother who wasn't a working mother until I was grown up and met some rich people.

All of the mothers (and fathers) I knew then, and the vast majority of parents I know now, are working parents. My estimate would be that they average twelve hours a day of work.

The question is not do they work in the home or out of it.

The question is how many hours a parent works and how many hours does she get to play with her child. (Teaching babies is glorious play.)

Having decided that, the question becomes what do I do with those precious minutes or hours I get to spend with my baby?

What is vital is that those precious times be the most joyous and the most productive moments of all, designed to increase the mutual love and respect between parent and child.

How best to do that?

Despite the handful of professional lamenters who scream so loudly that they manage to sound like everybody (and who gave psychology and education a bad name by insisting that tiny kids are mindless little idiots who shouldn't be taught to wave bye-bye until they are old enough to be drafted), what tiny kids would rather do than anything else in the world is learn. They want to know about everything in the world and they want to learn about it right now.

By three years of age, when kids are very articulate, they drive most adults to distraction with endless questions. That insatiable curiosity doesn't begin at three, when he can voice it - it begins at birth, when he can't.

It never ceases to astonish me that virtually all mothers take one look into their baby's eyes and know it. It also astonished me that many "child experts" don't know it. I suspect that the ones who don't know it have never looked into a baby's eyes.

This is directed to the mothers who do know it. The question they want the answer to is how best to respond to and to encourage the unquenchable thirst to know they see in their child's eyes. It is as easy to teach a baby to talk as it is to say "Mommy". It is as easy to teach a baby to read as it is to show the baby the word "Mommy" (written large and clear).

If a mother has five minutes, four times a day, to teach her baby to read, she can do so.

If a mother has another five minutes, four times a day, she can teach her baby about nature.

If a mother has an hour a day (twelve five-minute sessions) she can teach her baby to read, to know and love nature, and to recognize the great music of the world.

If a mother has all day, every day, she can teach her baby all the wondrous and beautiful things this old world has to offer.

I know a mother who is a physician, a jet pilot, and an astronaut, who finds delight in and time to teach her tiny kid wonderful things. I know a beautiful and world-famous actress who taught her baby to read beautifully - and hundreds of less famous mothers who have done so.

It's not a question of time. It's a question of priorities.

Every mother considers her time and chooses her own priorities.

by Glenn Doman,

Founder of The Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential

Here is the link to the other post.



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Glenn Doman and IAHP

My association with Glenn Doman and IAHP.org (The Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential) goes back 11 years. Blake was just a newborn when I caught sight of an article by Glenn in a magazine. I don't remember exactly what it said, but it said something about teaching your baby to read, of all things. Naturally, I was a little skeptical, but I made my way to the bookstore and picked up his book (written with his daughter Janet Doman, who is also awesome). So I made up some flashcards and started showing them to my newborn son. People thought I was nuts and maybe I was, but it fell under the heading of "can't hurt, might help" so I was willing to try it.

In addition to using the flashcards, I took a totally different approach with Blake than I had with Matt. I put all sorts of interesting things in his crib and changed them out frequently. I played lots of classical music for him. I allowed him to explore the physical world a lot more than I had Matt. By then the Baby Einstein videos were starting to come out, so I showed them to him at every opportunity and I played Spanish tapes in the car. All because of the ideas Glenn had shared with me in his book. It literally opened up my mind to a lot of new possibilities and it had a big influence on how I have dealt with my son on a daily basis, even now.

As Blake grew older, I always knew that he was very intelligent. He was an exceptionally bright and alert baby. He was always very involved with people. He used to flirt with the grandmas at the grocery store and never showed a trace of shyness, even with complete strangers and he played well with the other kids. But I was a little concerned. He wasn't hitting some of his milestones, particularly with regards to speech. He seemed to want to communicate badly, but he didn't seem to be able to make intelligible words. We made jokes between ourselves that it was a cross between Apache and parrot.

Also, he was hyperactive, almost to the extreme. He started walking about three or four months earlier than Matt had and at times I couldn't control him physically. I had to have a special chair for him in the bath because he would.not.sit.down no matter what else I tried. By 14 months, I couldn't keep him off the jungle gyms and slides at the park no matter how big they were. He just had an imperative to explore the world or die trying and there just wasn't much we could do about it, but try to keep him from hurting himself too much.

By the time Blake was three he was barely talking and had a lot of coordination issues. By then, we were talking to doctors, speech therapists, and special ed personnel. They gave us a diagnosis of ADHD with delayed development and speech deficits. We started him in twice-weekly Special Ed classes (which didn't do him a bit of good, in my opinion), and a program of weekly speech therapy. At that point, I wasn't sleeping much and was a nervous wreck. I had visions of him being stuck in a lifetime of special ed classes and never being able to have a normal life with friends and girlfriends, and a job. My husband kept telling me it was going to be alright, but I was terrified. Reluctantly, very reluctantly in fact, I bought Glenn's other book "What To Do About your Brain Injured Child" and started doing some of the exercises in it.

By now the Internet was starting to get more popular and I was in communication with the people at IAHP, both the staff and their wonderful on-line Mom's group. I made the decision to travel to Philadelphia to attend their week-long program for the parents of brain-injured children. By the way, their definition of a brain injured child covers ADHD, autism, retardation, visual/hearing problems, as well as more serious conditions like Downs, traumatic brain injury, strokes, and Cerebral Palsy.

When I got to the Institutes, I can't explain it. There was just something magical about that place. It's a gorgeous campus and the people there, who include Glenn's whole family - wife, daughter, son, and daughter-in-law, and now some grandkids, are all so very professional and helpful. I was so overwhelmed to be there, I cried all through Glenn's first lecture. I just knew that if anyone in this world could help me make my child better, these people could. And they mean business. The classes were 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days straight, a 10 minute potty break every hour and 45 minutes for lunch. You take pages of notes, you ask dozens of questions, and you leave each night with your head so crammed with information you can't even sleep. There were parents there from halfway around the world and they were serious about getting the answers that would help their kids.

I came home with a whole program of physical exercises, dietary suggestions, vitamin supplements, educational materials, basically the whole enchilada. Even though I had to work full time to support the family, I still managed to cram everything into my day one way or the other (well except for the diet, I really stank in that department). But I carried flashcards in my purse, we had tapes in the car on the way to day care, I had maps and charts up in my dining room, every stick of furniture was labeled for his reading program, and we built a set of monkey bars right over his bed for his daily physical conditioning.

By the time Blake turned four, he could read about 50 words in both English and Spanish, could count up to 20, could recognize the music of half a dozen different composers, identify a dozen different dog breeds, could make his way across the monkey bars and back unassisted, and best of all was speaking in complete sentences. Still had some speech difficulties, but he was able to communicate understandably.

When he was five, they released him from the Special Ed program, passed him off on speech therapy, and cleared him to start regular Kindergarten with his pre-school class. I had improved his coordination, strength and balance, taught him to read simple books, write his name legibly, taught him his states and capitols, and dozens of other things, all in just brief sessions here and there because I was still working full time. We'd do a few minutes while he was eating his cereal, while we were waiting at the post office, or during bath time, driving in the car, just whenever.

The best part is, he loved it. I never had to nag him or pester him to do lessons. If you teach things the Institute's way, kids really enjoy it. The key is quick, fun sessions of 3-5 minutes, change the material frequently - about every 3rd lesson, and never do any kind of testing. Kids learn much faster than adults, their brains are like little sponges, and they are relentless in their search for the next NEW thing to learn. Fortunately, I had paired up with another Mom who made her own flash cards and would let me borrow them when her son was finished with them. That was a huge help since I didn't have much time to make my own. (I think that has a lot to do with the fact that now Blake has a 12th grade reading level, nearly the highest in his class.)

I look back and I think where my son would have been without Glenn and Janet Doman's books and the help I received from the Institutes. I just don't think he would have ended up as a happy and healthy sixth grader, nearly indistinguishable from any other normal sixth grader. I don't know and I'm glad I didn't have to find out.



That's why Glenn is my hero. I don't even know if he is still living, he was about 85 when I met him, so I'm kind of afraid to go and look, but I know if he still has breath in his body and a brain in his head, he is out there doing everything he possibly can to help the children of the world live up to their potential and I think that is the most amazing work anyone could ever do.

Here is a link to Glenn's books, videos, and other materials on Amazon:

Doman Materials

Update: I got some literature from the Institutes today. Happily, Glenn is not only still with us, he is celebrating his 90th birthday this year and from the sound of it, is still devoting his time to helping our children. That was great news for us to hear.



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Did I ever tell you about Kiva?

I don't remember if I've ever posted about Kiva or not, but even if I have it's been a while and it's a good thing to keep in mind. If you've been reading my blog for long, you know that I'm a big believer in The Secret and other sources of positive thinking. One of the tenets of that way of thinking is the idea of giving back. Whether it's time, money, old clothes, or whatever, I think it's very important that those of us who are fortunate enough to live a comfortable lifestyle, should give to those who are less fortunate. I guess it's kind of a good Karma thing to do.

Kiva is a great way to do that. Kiva.org is a website where you can make micro-loans to individuals in improverished countries. It's actually very cool. You go out to the website and there is a list of people who are wanting to borrow small amounts of money - usually between about $500-$1000 (you only fund a portion of the loan - $25 is the typical donation amount).

There is a picture of the person, their name and the country they are from and a little bit about what they want the money for - usually to start or improve their business. You can choose the country and the sex of the person you are loaning to. I typically only loan to women and I try to choose women with large families to provide for. I don't really care what country they are from, but I've loaned to women in Africa, Russia, and Asia mostly. They've even added a new category of people in the US you can loan to.

Once you've picked out your recipient(s), you click on the button and fund the loan, either through a checking account, or through Paypal. That's it - easy peasy! Then you sit back and wait. In a month or so, you'll start seeing small payments coming back into your account. These are loans, not gifts and these people are generally excellent about paying their loans back. Kiva has a 98% payback rate and out of the 23 loans I've done with them over the years, I've only had one that wasn't paid back and that was because the local lender who set up the loan was corrupt.

When your loan is fully paid back, usually in six months to a year, you can either choose to take your money back out and go on your merry way, or you can choose to lend it out again to another person and start the whole cycle again. That's what I usually do and it's kind of fun to watch the payments mount up and start looking for your next person to help.

I know that our own country is having some pretty hard times right now and I do have local charities that I like to help out as well, but I always feel that we have so much more than some of these people in very poor countries. Even the poorest families in the US typically have things that third world families wouldn't dream of owning - things like cars, and TV's and video games, while many of these families are just striving for the basics of food, clean water, and an education for their children.

So pop on over there and poke around a bit. Maybe make a loan or two. They even have a special Kiva team for Bloggers. We have a guy on our team who has single-handedly made more than 1,000 loans. And he's just a student. Go figure! If he can do that, what can you do today?

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

MamaKat's Writer's Workshop came at quite the opportune time this week. One of her prompts was for the most unusual punishment you have ever done with your kids. Well, that is right up my alley. This Mama is all about unusual punishments and I happen to be applying one of them right at this moment.

My 20 year old son has decided to go on a laundry strike. About two weeks ago, I told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to deal with his overflowing laundry basket. Since he just finished school and is supposed to be looking for a job as a Medical Assistant, he pretty much has all day to himself. So, it really could have been done in just a day or so. Yet, the laundry wasn't getting done, day after day.

So, first we moved to DefCon 1: I confiscated his Ipod (one of his most precious possessions and constant companion). I thought that would do it, but after a few more days, he'd only done 1 load of laundry.

OK, buddy boy, time for DefCon 2: His Mac disappeared early on morning before he was up. Usually, he's not this stubborn, but I think he's gotten into thinking that he's an adult now, so he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't really want to. Yeah son, so how's that workin' out for ya?

I was just about to escalate to DefCon 3: The cell phone (Although I wasn't sure how I was going to get my mitts on it - he literally sleeps with the damn thing).

But then I got a fabulous idea - a really Grinchy, awful idea. We have a standard policy about beds. If you don't make your bed, your brother is allowed to sneak into your room and make it for you, then charge you a dollar in labor fees.

I would let his brother do his laundry for the premium price of $5 a load - deducted directly from his checking account, so he can't do a thing about it. Turns out Blake was out shopping for camping stuff tonight, so what the heck, Mom could use a few extra bucks.

So as I'm sitting here writing this post, I'm earning a cool $15 bucks AND getting what I wanted - an empty laundry hamper. Sounds like a win-win to me!

I love my boys to death, but you do not mess with the Mama Dog around here!








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