My sister's a WHA?

My sister is a Reverend. Officially. I dragged Quigs to Florida with me to go to my sister's ordination. I had this beautiful thought that it would be fun and what a great thing to share with her. But seriously, it was crazy busy. And crazy.



Highlights (in no particular order):

* Running from one section of the airport to the other to make our flight to Tampa. All we needed was music, and we would have been in a movie.

* An irrate passenger who made a huge scene. Best part of the flight to Tampa from Atlanta.

* Making friends with the flight attendants.

* Making friends with the hotel front desk person.

* Driving the wrong way on a 6 lane street at night.

* Getting a cool new pair of sunglasses.

* Talking to a little boy during my sister's after ceremony reception. He was the best person to talk to of the night.

* Being called a pot-stirrer by a pastor I just met, who also happened to be Pastor M's former boss.

* Listening to Quigs be called "a delight" by the same pastor.

* Seeing my family, some of whom I haven't seen in two years or more.

* Transporting the cake without messing it up.

* KARAOKE.

* Quigs, very "happy" after a couple of drinks. Totally deserving of it after a crazy day.

* The beautiful Florida weather. I think I got a burn on my neck.

* Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Butterbeer.



* Quigs, having to get her bag checked by security in the Orlando airport.

I got to see a completely different side of Pastor M that I have never seen before. I hope I see a lot more of it. I'm very proud of her.

Thanks to both Quigs and Mr. Quigs for letting her come with me. I owe them craploads of money and baked goods. Oh, and diet coke and babysitting.

And another big thanks to Mr. Rogers who took care of our two kids flawlessly while I was away. We're trying to figure out which one of us hard the harder job. I missed my family like crazy while I was gone. And BE said mama for the first time while I was gone.

Lovefest

I love them.

Don't be stupid, kids. Don't have sex.

Or at least be smart and protect yourself.

It's funny. I love the holy crap out of my kids. Seriously. My heart, my life would be broken without them or my husband. But as many parents will tell you, it's really hard work. Today was one of those really "hard work" days. And so, I appeal to you youngster who are itching to surge those hormones with someone else... be smart. If you are going to do it, use every form of protection that will work together well to ensure that conception does not occur. Because once you have that baby, you will need all the patience in the world to handle when your youngest is waking up every three hours at night, and your son is the anti-listening champ of the world. Because you can love the holy crap out of your kids, but you don't get any more "me" time. Not really. Not 100% freely. They can be away from you, but they're still your kids. You still worry about them. You still wonder if you have brought them up right. You still wonder if they are safe or if they have hurt feelings. You still wonder if you have given them the tools to survive. You still miss them.

And those first few years? They are like being a medical resident: Perform on as little sleep as possible. I am amazed that there aren't more car accidents from the number of parents who are't sleeping well at night and then falling asleep behind the wheel. Because there are some days that the radio is blaring, and I am hopped up on sugar just to make it to school.

So kiddos. Don't be stupid.

IMARogers is not a licensed anything, nor does she play a doctor on tv. She is however, a very tired parent who should be in bed right now, but really needed some relax time. She is stupid for that.

I get by with a little help from my friends

Love that song.

First, this is not a sob story. It's more of a realization I have come to in my thirties. Anyway...

When I was younger, I had few close friends. I had a couple "best friends" in high school. My college roommate was and is one of my closest friends; I wished she and I lived closer to each other. (Here we are 2.5 years ago)


I've had some close friends since college. But, I don't know if I really understood what being a friend meant. To me, it simply meant going out with the people you like the most. And spending time with people who you could be honest and comfortable sharing stuff.

I've broken up with friends. Two. They were messy breakups. I know that while I could point the finger their way, I could also point the finger back to me, too.

That being said, here I am in my thirties relearning friendship. I have less than a handful that I would really call my closest friends. I think I learned what friendship meant by what others have done for me - asking nothing in return. And at this point, I realize I need to do the same. I feel like having kiddos has made it harder to find the time and energy. But for those people who are important to me, I want to.

I feel like this isn't coming out right. Here it is. I have really bombed at the giving part of friendships. But I don't want to anymore. I want meaningful ones. They need to know that I care, that they are special to me, and I that appreciate their friendship.

Any questions?

A review

I know, I haven't written in several days. So here's a brief review using photos as a visual aid.

One day while I was putting Blue Eyes down for a nap, Curious J "needed" a snack. So he helped himself to a sucker, two chocolate coins, and sunchips. As you can see, he was very proud.



At a birthday party we went to this past weekend, J learned how to "bear crawl". I realized that maybe gymnastics might be a good way to focus his habits of jumping and climbing. So I'm looking into classes.



In the meantime, BE has been developing in leaps and bounds. She grabs at almost everything now. Bedtime books, J's legos, baby puffs. I am super proud of her and hanging out with this little girls who wants to interact with people and things around her is getting super fun. And she's even looking a stuff on her tummy! :) Sadly, however, she's getting her top two teeth, which are making her a "wonderful sleeper".







And finally we end our review at McD's playplace. We are starting to become regulars there every Friday after school with J's friend, Scoobydoo. As much as I loathe the germs that surround that place, I enjoy the company. It makes Fridays something to look forward to.

In the past few weeks, I have noticed BE's eyes do not always match up. One is always catching to the other. The frequency has increased, however, when we took her to her pediatrician, she did not show any problems. Fortunately, the doctor didn't think I was a complete hypocondriac and schedule an appointment with a the optomologist. In the meantime, I am trying to get evidence that I am not crazy. Only so that way I can get help for her. Sadly, the appointment isn't until the end of March. So anybody having advise or encouragement would be appreciated because it's stressing me out a little.

What a sweetheart!

My innocent little boy. ;)

Today, J and I went to a birthday party for one of his school friends. It was super fun at the local gymnastics center for little ones. J was happy to see his "very best friend" at the party and the two of them were pretty inseparable for the duration of the party. During the first half of the party, the kids got to play on the gym equipment and also did some structured activities. I realized that my little guy might need something like gymnastics to jump and climb and practice for his future as a stuntman.

There were mostly girls at the party, but a few boys. My J has "grown up" for lack of a better word. He was once the kid I was worried about being pummelled, and now he is the one getting called out for playing swords (see below).



On one hand, I am happy to see that he can handle himself with the crowd he plays with; on the other hand, I worry that my kid will be known as the mastermind of some kind of war among his classmates or friends. That's right Curious J fans, my kid is not that innocent.

Different parents have different rules, especially about rough play. Some have no touching or no weapons rule. Some are fine as long as it's mutual and no one is getting hurt. Of course, some completely ignore their children and allow them to totally terrorize other kids. I lean more to the second attitude, but I also try to respect the other parent if they do not believe in rough play. Because up until this past 6 months or so, I was a no rough play parent. I still get a little stomach churn waiting for someone to get hurt.

We'll wait and see if it's just a "boy thing" as so many people tell me it is, or if I should expect BE to be throwing punches in a couple of years. ;P

This will not fly one day

See that picture? That is the picture of a little boy who will one day have revenge seeked on him for touching his little sister's cheeks. I want to warn him (as a child who had her cheeks pinched by her older sister) that biting and slapping will be consequences if he continue to do that.

God (this is a long one)

For many, many years I was brought up to Christian. I knew what right from wrong was. I knew Jesus died for my sins. I remember moments in my life where I accepted Jesus as my savior.

I also remember when I first lost my faith. And after finding it again, lost it yet again. That time, for good. And as I get older, I find that as much as I want to believe - the way I did as a child, I am more sure of the fact that there is no one being out in the universe who is guiding us, helping us. I really believe that if there was this being out there that had control over so much, that he or she or it would not let such horrific things happen to good people. To children. To the innocent. Someone once told me that maybe God got the universe started and then took his/her hands out of it. Allowed nature to take it's course. And while I was a Christian that excuse comforted me because it meant that someone wasn't out there picking and choosing who would get the lucky life.

The Christian in me is scared to death of being wrong about the afterlife.... of there being a God who will banish me from heaven, from my family, from happiness, because I didn't believe in him/her. There are so many different religions. And so many that say "either our way or you are doomed to roam hell for all eternity." That is too many people who are roaming hell for all eternity out there with many more to come. Many of them are good people who are just trying to do the right thing in their daily lives.

I still pray to my god. I still make deals with my god. I am sure there are plenty of people in the world who would be willing to make a bargain if it were possible. I have been given many blessings, with not nearly as many bad experiences as others. And when I think of how arrogant I can be, how ungrateful I can be, I feel extremely undeserving of those blessings. Why was I given this life? Why can't someone else be given the goodness they so deserve? Is part of it the perspective you keep?

This is the part where we talk about science and probability, and sociology and psychology. How we have created the world we live in by our behavior. How science effects how our planet functions, including how we have treated (and abused) our planet. Everyone in the world effects everyone else, whether it be directly or through a chain reaction. And science allows us to make educated guesses on how things are going to happen. That's what I believe.

I have rambled. But tonight, I go to bed thinking that if there was that god out there, I would be feeling a little pissy at him/her. Not for myself. But for all the people who are deserving of happiness and safety. The children who deserve to be loved and fed and sheltered. The shitty people who just keep on being shitty with very little consequence.

I don't advertise my beliefs to everyone; my kids don't even know (too confusing at this age). I am vocal to the people who know. I have a lot of religious friends who I respect. I admire their faith in someone greater than this earth. That little girl in me is worried that I will be looked down on or defriended for being a non-believer. But when the push comes to shove, I cannot make that leap of faith. And to try to pretend I do believe, would not be right with me. But trust me, I would love to believe in an afterlife; ceasing to exist after dying does not soothe me at all.

My beautiful boy

I got lucky. I got to do Curious J's bedtime tonight. That meants from about 7:15pm on, he was all mine to hang out with. He chose to hang out in a box for a while. We talked a little, and then we read magazines. The sweet boy shared some sensitive stuff with me, too. First, he asked if our house would be in heaven. I said, "No, but from what I hear, you will be very happy when you get there." He said to me, "I don't want to leave earth, I like it here." My reply, "Me, too, kid."

The second was after I told him I was going to Pastor M's ordination in March. A few minutes later, he said, "I don't want you to leave our family." Me: "Why would I leave our family?" J: "When you go away." Me: "I am only going to be gone for a few days, and I will never leave this family."
- Of course, being the airplane phobic I am, I wanted to ask if he knew something I didn't. ;)

Even though I feel like I spend most of my day keeping him in line, and even though nine times out of ten he would choose his dad, I am glad to see we can still have some special moments together.