"There are some who desire knowledge for its own sake; and that is shameful curiosity. And there are others who desire to know, in order that they may themselves be known, and that is vanity, disgraceful too. Others again desire knowledge in order to acquire money or preferment by it; that too is a discreditable quest. But there are also some who desire knowledge, that they may build up the souls of others with it; and that is charity. Others, again, desire it that they may themselves be built up thereby; and that is prudence. Of all these types, only the last two put knowledge to the right use." (St. Bernard, Sermon on the Canticle of Canticles)
I just read this on American Catholic and thought some other moms would find it as encouraging as I did. What else could possibly be said about how to educate a child?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Vacation
Tomorrow we're headed out of town for the week, to the mountains of Blue Ridge, Georgia. I haven't started packing yet because I'm not the packing sort. I'm more of a wake the morning of the trip, grab whatever is in my drawer, shove it all into plastic bags and run out the door sort. If we're staying at a hotel, I class it up a little and replace the plastic bags with those fancy paper ones you get at stores like Macy's. And if I'm getting on a plane I go all out and use my mesh backpack.
This kind of haphazard packing usually means that I end up in my destination with about five less pair of underwear than I need. Speaking of underwear, you know what word makes me cringe? Panties. It's gross. Everyone in my house knows not to use that word. Use the word underwear or undergarments, but never panties. I consider it vial and pornographic and if you use that word you may need some kind of professional counseling, after which point you may be as well adjusted as yours truly. Anyway, I have no plans to change my packing style anytime soon, so hopefully there will be a store close by if I do forget anything.
Would you like to hear an interesting story about packing? I know what you're thinking - could there really be a story about packing that would qualify as interesting? This one comes pretty close. When we went to NY a couple of summers ago I thought I may have forgotten to pack my glasses, which I desperately need when I'm not wearing my contacts. We were only about thirty seconds from our house when I had this realization and I was forced to say something to Greg. In somewhat dramatic fashion ( because the sixty seconds it took to drive back down our street was going to cut into our twenty hour car ride) my husband turned the car around and I ran inside and saw that the glasses weren't on my shelf, so I came back out and said that they must be somewhere and no worries, they would turn up in some bag, at some point.
Greg shook his head at me in that, "oh, you are so disorganized and scattered," sort of way to which I smiled sweetly said, "shut up," and we went on our way. When we made it to our first stop that night (North Carolina I think it was) we were all getting ready for bed when I noticed Greg furiously looking for something. Being the concerned wife, I asked if he was missing anything and, as it turns out, Greg had forgotten his glasses back in Florida. I felt very bad for him and made sure not to say anything obnoxious. It's not my style. But that was one interesting story about packing, wasn't it?
So, we leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow and I have decided that in order to completely enjoy this trip I will have no expectations. This is not the same as having low expectations. Having low expectations is cynical and mean spirited, while having zero expectations ensures that no matter what happens on this trip, I can say at the end, well, it certainly exceeded all my expectations. I had to explain all of this expectation stuff to Greg the other night because even after knowing me for twenty one years, he still doesn't always understand my way of thinking.
Perhaps I will have a picture post when I get back. Everyone I've told that we're going to Blue Ridge, Georgia has told me how beautiful it is there ( and I wish they would stop because it's hurting my no expectations thing), so I may get some pictures of mountains and streams and pretty trees, but please don't get your hopes up.
Have a good week everyone! I've heard the weather here in Florida is going to continue to be gorgeous for the next several days. Enjoy!
This kind of haphazard packing usually means that I end up in my destination with about five less pair of underwear than I need. Speaking of underwear, you know what word makes me cringe? Panties. It's gross. Everyone in my house knows not to use that word. Use the word underwear or undergarments, but never panties. I consider it vial and pornographic and if you use that word you may need some kind of professional counseling, after which point you may be as well adjusted as yours truly. Anyway, I have no plans to change my packing style anytime soon, so hopefully there will be a store close by if I do forget anything.
Would you like to hear an interesting story about packing? I know what you're thinking - could there really be a story about packing that would qualify as interesting? This one comes pretty close. When we went to NY a couple of summers ago I thought I may have forgotten to pack my glasses, which I desperately need when I'm not wearing my contacts. We were only about thirty seconds from our house when I had this realization and I was forced to say something to Greg. In somewhat dramatic fashion ( because the sixty seconds it took to drive back down our street was going to cut into our twenty hour car ride) my husband turned the car around and I ran inside and saw that the glasses weren't on my shelf, so I came back out and said that they must be somewhere and no worries, they would turn up in some bag, at some point.
Greg shook his head at me in that, "oh, you are so disorganized and scattered," sort of way to which I smiled sweetly said, "shut up," and we went on our way. When we made it to our first stop that night (North Carolina I think it was) we were all getting ready for bed when I noticed Greg furiously looking for something. Being the concerned wife, I asked if he was missing anything and, as it turns out, Greg had forgotten his glasses back in Florida. I felt very bad for him and made sure not to say anything obnoxious. It's not my style. But that was one interesting story about packing, wasn't it?
So, we leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow and I have decided that in order to completely enjoy this trip I will have no expectations. This is not the same as having low expectations. Having low expectations is cynical and mean spirited, while having zero expectations ensures that no matter what happens on this trip, I can say at the end, well, it certainly exceeded all my expectations. I had to explain all of this expectation stuff to Greg the other night because even after knowing me for twenty one years, he still doesn't always understand my way of thinking.
Perhaps I will have a picture post when I get back. Everyone I've told that we're going to Blue Ridge, Georgia has told me how beautiful it is there ( and I wish they would stop because it's hurting my no expectations thing), so I may get some pictures of mountains and streams and pretty trees, but please don't get your hopes up.
Have a good week everyone! I've heard the weather here in Florida is going to continue to be gorgeous for the next several days. Enjoy!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Foolishness and a little brilliance
So back in June I bought this cute pair of flip flops and two days after my purchase they ripped while I was wearing them. Lucky for me I was in the parking lot of Publix when it happened, so when I ran in to get my groceries I picked up some super glue to repair the shoes (because that's what normal people do when their shoes fall apart).
My only concern with the super glue was not how foolish it made my flip flops look ( trust me, some cob jobs can't be hidden), but how I would conceal the glue from my children. I was pretty sure that if Anthony was aware I purchased it he would find a way to glue his hand to his face (by accident, of course) and so I kept it hidden under lock and key, knowing that if it was ever revealed I bought it there would be a mad rush to find it. I can't really explain why this is the case, but it's my reality and I've come to terms with it. For four and half months I have been moving this super glue around from drawer to drawer, cabinet to cabinet, just to ensure it is never found and I'm proud to say I've been successful.
On Saturday afternoon I was getting ready to take my two oldest children somewhere and as I was putting on my pants, wouldn't you know, the button popped off. I know right now people are asking themselves if perhaps this may be a good time for me to contemplate heading over the Weight Watchers, but trust me when I say, the button falling off has less to do with my weight and more to do with the fact that these pants were bought for five dollars at a store that sells reject clothing.
Although popping a button may have been cause for alarm for some people, for me it was nothing more than a chance to get out my hidden supply of super glue and work my magic. I didn't feel like removing the pants entirely, so I carefully took the super glue, fastened the button to its proper place and waited a few seconds for it to stick. And it did. Problem solved. Pants were on, hair was done, kids were ready and we were off.
I was quite happy with this quick fix, until we arrived at our destination and I had to go to the bathroom and suddenly realized that I had super glued my pants shut. At first I thought it was funny, because it kind of is, but as I kept struggling to get the pants open I got sweaty and started panicking and had no idea what to do. I truly did have to go the bathroom and there seemed to be no hope in sight. I thought for sure I would have to make a run for my car and look for the knife that Greg keeps in there for me, and then I would have to shred my pants and how exactly would I explain this to people at church, which was where I happened to be at the time. But see, this is where going to church comes in handy. God shines his light on us church people, (and only us) and lo and behold, the pants came loose. I'm pretty sure I heard angels singing.
I had an epiphany as I was relaying what happened to a friend - and moms, you can thank me later. When my daughters reach that age where they have gentlemen callers, I'm bringing out the super glue and fastening the girls pants shut before they leave the house. It'll be like a chastity belt, but much less cumbersome. And yes, because I was kind enough to share my brilliant idea with you, I'm charging two bucks for this post.
My only concern with the super glue was not how foolish it made my flip flops look ( trust me, some cob jobs can't be hidden), but how I would conceal the glue from my children. I was pretty sure that if Anthony was aware I purchased it he would find a way to glue his hand to his face (by accident, of course) and so I kept it hidden under lock and key, knowing that if it was ever revealed I bought it there would be a mad rush to find it. I can't really explain why this is the case, but it's my reality and I've come to terms with it. For four and half months I have been moving this super glue around from drawer to drawer, cabinet to cabinet, just to ensure it is never found and I'm proud to say I've been successful.
On Saturday afternoon I was getting ready to take my two oldest children somewhere and as I was putting on my pants, wouldn't you know, the button popped off. I know right now people are asking themselves if perhaps this may be a good time for me to contemplate heading over the Weight Watchers, but trust me when I say, the button falling off has less to do with my weight and more to do with the fact that these pants were bought for five dollars at a store that sells reject clothing.
Although popping a button may have been cause for alarm for some people, for me it was nothing more than a chance to get out my hidden supply of super glue and work my magic. I didn't feel like removing the pants entirely, so I carefully took the super glue, fastened the button to its proper place and waited a few seconds for it to stick. And it did. Problem solved. Pants were on, hair was done, kids were ready and we were off.
I was quite happy with this quick fix, until we arrived at our destination and I had to go to the bathroom and suddenly realized that I had super glued my pants shut. At first I thought it was funny, because it kind of is, but as I kept struggling to get the pants open I got sweaty and started panicking and had no idea what to do. I truly did have to go the bathroom and there seemed to be no hope in sight. I thought for sure I would have to make a run for my car and look for the knife that Greg keeps in there for me, and then I would have to shred my pants and how exactly would I explain this to people at church, which was where I happened to be at the time. But see, this is where going to church comes in handy. God shines his light on us church people, (and only us) and lo and behold, the pants came loose. I'm pretty sure I heard angels singing.
I had an epiphany as I was relaying what happened to a friend - and moms, you can thank me later. When my daughters reach that age where they have gentlemen callers, I'm bringing out the super glue and fastening the girls pants shut before they leave the house. It'll be like a chastity belt, but much less cumbersome. And yes, because I was kind enough to share my brilliant idea with you, I'm charging two bucks for this post.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Adventures with various people who might be slightly dimwitted
Yesterday I called Anthony's insulin pump supplier to re-order some infusion sets and cartridges. The customer service rep snickered at me when I wondered aloud if any problems would arise due to our new insurance carrier. I asked her gently, (because I am always gentle) "did you just snicker at me?" Well, it turns out she wasn't snickering, she was merely stretching in her chair and it must have sounded like snickering. So anyway, even with all the snickering and lying going on, the phone call only took about five minutes.
This morning, around 7 AM, Greg called me on his way to work, telling me had gotten a message saying a problem had arisen with our new insurance company and the pump supplier wouldn't be shipping out the order. And then I spent the next three hours in a rotating series of calls between the pump supplier and the insurance company and medical device companies, trying to get someone to help me and reminding anyone who would listen that I had been snickered at the day before over expressing my thoughts that this very thing may happen.
On top of talking to the insurance people and the pump people and the medical device people, I was forced to make threatening faces and hand motions to my children all morning in an attempt to get them to start on their schoolwork. But they know they have me right where they want me when I'm on the phone trying to take care of anything related to Anthony's diabetes care. It was an exhausting morning.
Here's the basic gist of what happened. The pump supplier doesn't take our insurance, so our insurance company was requesting we get our supplies locally through a medical device distributor, except for that all of the companies they led me to didn't carry the supplies I needed.
I kept calling the insurance company back and we kept expanding our search out further and further, until finally I found a company in Orlando who said, "yes, we can help you." I excitedly said, "so, you have the supplies there in your warehouse?" And the woman said, "well, no, we don't have the supplies here, we call your insulin pump supplier and we tell them what you need and then they send it to you." And I said, "oh, so you do what I did yesterday morning, except for you charge the pump supplier for your time, whereas I was doing it for free, plus I got to hear someone snicker at me when I wondered aloud if I would have any problems with this whole thing." No, I didn't say that. But I thought it. And that's just as good, right?
But the best and most wonderful part of the day is that Anthony's pump supplies are still not ordered. When I called the distributor ( who isn't technically distributing anything more than a phone call) later in the day to make sure she had ordered the supplies she told me she hadn't, even though earlier in the day she told me she was marking this as "urgent." It did sound as though I had woken her up from her nap when I called her at 4 PM, so at least she was well rested and that made me feel better.
She made up a story about how she hadn't placed the order because she needed my doctor's phone number, which I had given her earlier in the morning, but I suppose maybe when she fell asleep at her desk it had rubbed off on her cheek or something. Hey, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I gave her the number again, and she said, "okay, I'll call your doctor right now and tell them I need proof of Anthony's diabetes and then as soon as I get that I'll send the order. But you may want to call your doctor , too , because sometimes they don't answer my requests right away." Oh, good thinking, I thought. Wow, this woman was on top of it!
I later found out I was wrong about that, but I simply can't go on. I'm too tired. But look whose snickering now pump supply lady. Turns out I was right to worry. Feels pretty good to be right, even if it means I didn't actually get those supplies Anthony needs to stay healthy. But really, why obsess over a silly thing like that?
This morning, around 7 AM, Greg called me on his way to work, telling me had gotten a message saying a problem had arisen with our new insurance company and the pump supplier wouldn't be shipping out the order. And then I spent the next three hours in a rotating series of calls between the pump supplier and the insurance company and medical device companies, trying to get someone to help me and reminding anyone who would listen that I had been snickered at the day before over expressing my thoughts that this very thing may happen.
On top of talking to the insurance people and the pump people and the medical device people, I was forced to make threatening faces and hand motions to my children all morning in an attempt to get them to start on their schoolwork. But they know they have me right where they want me when I'm on the phone trying to take care of anything related to Anthony's diabetes care. It was an exhausting morning.
Here's the basic gist of what happened. The pump supplier doesn't take our insurance, so our insurance company was requesting we get our supplies locally through a medical device distributor, except for that all of the companies they led me to didn't carry the supplies I needed.
I kept calling the insurance company back and we kept expanding our search out further and further, until finally I found a company in Orlando who said, "yes, we can help you." I excitedly said, "so, you have the supplies there in your warehouse?" And the woman said, "well, no, we don't have the supplies here, we call your insulin pump supplier and we tell them what you need and then they send it to you." And I said, "oh, so you do what I did yesterday morning, except for you charge the pump supplier for your time, whereas I was doing it for free, plus I got to hear someone snicker at me when I wondered aloud if I would have any problems with this whole thing." No, I didn't say that. But I thought it. And that's just as good, right?
But the best and most wonderful part of the day is that Anthony's pump supplies are still not ordered. When I called the distributor ( who isn't technically distributing anything more than a phone call) later in the day to make sure she had ordered the supplies she told me she hadn't, even though earlier in the day she told me she was marking this as "urgent." It did sound as though I had woken her up from her nap when I called her at 4 PM, so at least she was well rested and that made me feel better.
She made up a story about how she hadn't placed the order because she needed my doctor's phone number, which I had given her earlier in the morning, but I suppose maybe when she fell asleep at her desk it had rubbed off on her cheek or something. Hey, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I gave her the number again, and she said, "okay, I'll call your doctor right now and tell them I need proof of Anthony's diabetes and then as soon as I get that I'll send the order. But you may want to call your doctor , too , because sometimes they don't answer my requests right away." Oh, good thinking, I thought. Wow, this woman was on top of it!
I later found out I was wrong about that, but I simply can't go on. I'm too tired. But look whose snickering now pump supply lady. Turns out I was right to worry. Feels pretty good to be right, even if it means I didn't actually get those supplies Anthony needs to stay healthy. But really, why obsess over a silly thing like that?
Saturday, September 17, 2011
A very short thing about ten year old boys
If the following scenarios involved an adult male, the humor in them would most definitely be lost, but coming from a ten year old, it's just plain funny.
- Only a ten year old boy can sit in a doctor's office, excrete gas (loudly) several times and have someone, let alone the proper and polite nutritionist, find it highly amusing and "cute" (her word, not mine).
- And only a ten year old boy can say, in complete seriousness and sincerity, "mom, this candle smells just like apple pie. It actually smells like an apple pie just farted in my face. It's awesome!"
- Only a ten year old boy can sit in a doctor's office, excrete gas (loudly) several times and have someone, let alone the proper and polite nutritionist, find it highly amusing and "cute" (her word, not mine).
- And only a ten year old boy can say, in complete seriousness and sincerity, "mom, this candle smells just like apple pie. It actually smells like an apple pie just farted in my face. It's awesome!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)