<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Fri, 18 Dec 2009 14:16:41 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Random musings of a Crazed Momma</title><description>This is where I unload all of the lunacy of my day.  How can something so mundane make me so crazy?</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5876014829229466208</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Mar 2009 18:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-03-17T14:07:49.752-04:00</atom:updated><title>Poetry as I wake</title><description>Nathan woke me with poetry this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blueberries are blue,&lt;br /&gt;Strawberries are red,&lt;br /&gt;I love you more than all those berries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;br /&gt;I love you more&lt;br /&gt;I love you one hundred forty four&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my sweet baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5876014829229466208?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2009/03/poetry-as-i-wake.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3083754117318434672</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Feb 2009 09:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-10T04:22:11.916-05:00</atom:updated><title>I did it.  I sang in public.</title><description>Tonight was one of the best nights ever.  I went to open mic night at Downey's on South St and absolutely rocked.  Saturday night, at work, we were hanging out bullshitting with some customers after hours.  Well this guy and I got to talking about singing.  I mentioned that I sing.  So he had me sing a song for him.  I did and he said I *had* to come to this open mic on Monday.  So that gave me all of 1 day to prepare.  I was scared to death.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I got so nervous that I decided not to go.  I had some friends talk me into going and my brother went with me for support.  I did a duet with my buddy Cash, which wasn't so hot in my opinion.  Then I had my own set.  I had no music.  I don't play guitar and Cash doesn't know any of my songs.  So I did it a cappella.  I planned to do one or two songs and then stop since I didn't have backup.  But after the second they wanted more.  Can you beleive it?  They really liked me.  So I ended up singing four.  The first three lent themselves well to a cappella but the last, not so much.  Either way though my voice was great.  My bro said it took real balls to get up there with no music.  I left with the card for an agent and a date for some studio time to sing backup vocals for one of the other performers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3083754117318434672?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-did-it-i-sang-in-public.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-2739833586272224060</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Nov 2008 23:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-13T18:33:24.932-05:00</atom:updated><title>Felt boards and chicken noodle soup</title><description>Last night the boys refused to go to sleep.  No way!  Finally, around midnight the younger one dropped off and a half hour later so did the older one.  Which led to them waking at 11 am this morning.  It's been a long grumpy day.  The boys were throwing tantrums left and right.  Fighting with each other and me.  I set them up with a new movie and made them some chicken noodle soup. That settled them down a little.  Then Oliver and I worked on creating a felt board. I cut pieces out as he asked for them.  We made 2 people, a tree, apples, clouds, a sun, grass, and a car.  They played with that for a good hour.  Now the day is winding down and I am out of energy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-2739833586272224060?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/11/felt-boards-and-chicken-noodle-soup.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-7732939876768442019</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2008 08:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-12T03:39:14.825-05:00</atom:updated><title>Karaoke</title><description>HAve I ever told you how much I love karaoke?  Really?  Well, guess what?  I lurve it!  I get to play rock star one night a week at the bar.  It's so much fun!  Tonight I had requests even.  Woot! I get to act up, be silly, and sing the songs that I love.  Now I understand why my Dad loved it so much.  I wish I had my liscence back then so I could've gone more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-7732939876768442019?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/11/karaoke.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3251512450452661193</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Nov 2008 19:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-11T14:40:57.170-05:00</atom:updated><title>Totally Tuesday</title><description>This morning the boys didn't wake up until after 10.  It might have something to do with staying up till 11:30.  I don't know?  What do you think?  I went to bed early and my DH stayed up with them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we planned on going to Ikea to get the table and chairs that are one sale. We woke up so late that I decided to stay home instead.  I would hate to drive all the way there and for them to be out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, the boys have watched some cartoons, they were amazing about taking turns picking shows.  I cleaned the walls and baseboards in the kitchen while Oller played horsy on my back.  We've also played legos and candyland.  They've created a new game where one of them gets into the lego bucket and the other fills it with legos and cooks them ala Bugs Bunny.  While they were doing those things I managed to finish painting Oller's chair and the door frame and get started on the stairs.  After that we came upstairs for a snack of crackers and kid painting.  I covered the kitchen table in paper, gave them paint, and away they went.  Oh, and we had a visitor today.  Paco, the neighbors dog came inside for a visit with Butterfly (our dog).  They are best doggy friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they are watching a movie in their room and jsut hanging out in the loft bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3251512450452661193?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/11/totally-tuesday.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-851309318508352631</guid><pubDate>Mon, 10 Nov 2008 17:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-10T12:21:48.708-05:00</atom:updated><title>Homeschooling Journey</title><description>So now that Nathan is old enough for Pre-K I suppose we are actually homeschooling.  Sure he doesn't need to go to school for another 2 years but, all of the kids his age are in school.  I don't know another 4 year old who is not in some sort of school unless he's homeschooled.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started going to the homeschooling park days on Tuesdays and Fridays.  Both boys love it.  Those mornings they bounce out of bed!  I've been reading tons of books and their advice is to go with what your kid's interested in.  Well Nate seems to be interested in Wii, numbers, and zombies.  I should try to make up a unit study on zombies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far today we made popcorn, bounced balloons, stuck ballons to the wall with static electricity, and watched some cartoons.  Later on we will paint, sweep, mop and wipe down the kitchen.  I'm sure Nathan will fit in some Wii and Oliver will swing some.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and last night we made a little hammock for them that sits underneath their loft bed.  It's only 5 inches off of the floor.  They love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-851309318508352631?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/11/homeschooling-journey.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3714516061982808541</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 04:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-14T00:24:21.835-04:00</atom:updated><title>Blog?  What blog?</title><description>I think I spend more time apologizing for not posting than actually posting.  See the problem is that I am a lurker at heart.  I read other blogs, read my flylady list, read on a few different boards and lists but I rarely post.  I'm a little bit shy when it comes to the written word.  Get me in person and I'll talk your head off.  Ya can't get me to shut up.  Just try walking away, I'll follow you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And honestly it's not like my life is very exciting.  I stay at home all day trying to convince my children that wearing clothes is normal.  That will not hurt you but I might if you answer the door one more time naked. I chase the dog around trying to convince it to do it's business outside.  Darn puppies.  And I attempt to clean a little.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest success is that I finally convinced the boys to eat food in the kitchen.  My kids constantly sneak food into the living room and even upstairs.  Well, after we got back from vacation I started enforcing the heck out of the food rule.  Voila!  It's working.  I can't say what did the trick because I have tried enforcing the rule before and all I got for my efforts were food strikes.  But suddenly my oys leave their food in the kitchen and run back and frth for bites.  It's a little progress at least.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good, I'm still here and I wonder if anybody still checks this at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3714516061982808541?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-what-blog.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3561555643695957301</guid><pubDate>Mon, 11 Feb 2008 05:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-11T00:36:17.447-05:00</atom:updated><title>Enough already!  I'm sick and tired of dead people</title><description>Gah!  Stupid people keep dying.  I hate it.  I swear, I am so never speaking again to the next person who dies.  Or something like that.  Seriously.  Quit it already wontcha people?  And how the heck do I keep outliving poeple?  i mean, i've been seriously freaking depressed since i was a toddler.  I'm still here.  (and no plans of going anywhere, EVER.)  I'm gonna be Peter Pan, a vampire, a Jehovah's witness.  Tee hee.  I guess I stay here out of sheer stubborness.  Dammit, but it's so hard to watch your friends and family give up.  So hard to see someone with such beauty and potential quit this life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck suicide, fuck dead people.  Fuck people who don't like the word, "fuck!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3561555643695957301?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2008/02/enough-already-im-sick-and-tired-of.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-2937022586497344994</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Dec 2007 05:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-13T01:01:10.814-05:00</atom:updated><title>how the heck is it the 13th already</title><description>I just keep losing days.  I don't know where they go.  Is there some elf who comes in during my sleep and steals Tuesdays?  Somehow tomorrow is Thursday and I don't know where the week went.  Ack!  Maybe if I had a routine, any routine, I'd feel more grounded. For now I feel like the days are slipping through my hands and i am just trying to keep up.  Remember holding on to the parachute in gym class and runnning as fast as you could until kids started flying off?  That's what I feel like right now.  Slow down life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-2937022586497344994?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/12/how-heck-is-it-13th-already.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5484862705676182638</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Nov 2007 22:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-25T17:49:51.353-05:00</atom:updated><title>Ack!  I work at a bowling alley!</title><description>Ugh! My mom finally did it. She got me into the bowling alley after 20 years of resistance on my part. I don't even bowl. I have always HATED it. Mainly because it is a passion of my stepfather's. Ok, so I'm a little ODD. Opposisitional that is, well, I am odd too. The strange this is that I love it. Eh, I still am not crazy about bowling but I love having fun. I love playing with the crazy cast of characters that revolve around that place. I love getting out of the house and then coming home at 5 am to nurse my baby as he wakes. How cool is it that I am getting paid to hang out at a bar every friday and saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You girls out Havertown way should come by some weekend and see me! &lt;a href="http://www.wynnewoodlanes.com"&gt;Wynnewood Lanes&lt;/a&gt; on Haverford Road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5484862705676182638?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/11/ack-i-work-at-bowling-alley.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-6379070439639721911</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2007 09:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-19T04:46:58.302-05:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>dad</category><title>I did it</title><description>I finally filed some of the paperwork from my Dad's death and funeral.  It has been sitting in the bag from the funeral home, on a shelf for nearly a year now.  It hurt everytime I looked at that bag.  So tonight while I sit here being insomniac girl I decided to clean my office.  A weight has been lifted off of me.  I don't have to see that everytime I go to sew now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-6379070439639721911?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-did-it.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-8949077445608015874</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Nov 2007 15:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-16T04:11:12.554-05:00</atom:updated><title>WW_D?</title><description>So I have this little button that says, "What would Buddha do?" It's a cute little twist on the WWJD bracelets. I wear it sometimes half as a joke and half as a reminder. One day, not too long ago, I was having a rotten day. My son had peed on the floor for the fourth time that day. My other son had dumped an entire can of cashews on the floor and was rolling in it and I was in absolute meltdown. My dear husband thinks he has the answer. He says with a sarcastic tone, "What would Buddha do, Honey?" He thought he had nailed me; that these words of wisdom would flow down on me and soothe my angry beast. He must not know much of the Buddha story. I turned and said, "He'd abandon his family and go live in the woods somewhere, do not tempt me!" He hasn't tried that line again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-8949077445608015874?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/11/wwd.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5230115504517256892</guid><pubDate>Thu, 25 Oct 2007 22:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-25T18:03:42.629-04:00</atom:updated><title>Do I even exist anymore?</title><description>Or have I been reduced to nothing more than a set of boobs.  Sometimes I wonder.  I don't seem to do anything other than nurse a toddler all day.  Special days come and go without a card or a gift.  For example, the 4 year anniversary of quitting smoking, my 9 year wedding anniversary, my 31st birthday.  Hell, at this point I'd settle for an e-card.  Something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5230115504517256892?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/10/do-i-even-exist-anymore.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-718782056051408504</guid><pubDate>Wed, 29 Aug 2007 19:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-29T16:29:05.220-04:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>class</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>UU</category><title>UU and the Working Class</title><description>I just finished reading a great article on how class relates to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;UU&lt;/span&gt;.  But having been written by a professional it seems to miss the point.  It's a start though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;UU&lt;/span&gt;.  Unitarian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Universalist&lt;/span&gt; that is.  And I am very much working class.  I find that being both of those things is such a struggle.  How can I honor my place in the world and still go to a church every Sunday that feels I need to be improved.  I mean sure, I am welcomed.  They'll have me but do they really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; me.  Do these professionals really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; their children to see that you can be happy without a college education.  Blasphemy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The college educated always seem to think that the rest of us want to be just like them.  I fear not.  I've lived on both sides of the tracks.  I was born in New Castle, DE to a plumber and a waitress.  They both sold drugs to make ends meet and my mom did them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;in order&lt;/span&gt; to stay awake for her graveyard shifts.  I was supposed to be the "one".  The one who was good, the one who stayed off of drugs, the one who went to college and the one who got a career rather than a job.  All of this was pounded into my head before kindergarten even began.  My goal in life was &lt;strong&gt;college&lt;/strong&gt;.  I had to go.  There was no other option.  I was a stressed out, straight-A, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;train wreck&lt;/span&gt; of a kid.  That kid who freaked about every test and then got 100's.  My life was pointed straight towards college.  To further that end, my Mom left my Dad at some point and moved to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Havertown&lt;/span&gt;, PA to live amongst the middle class.  The Main Line.  The only main line I had ever heard of had to do with heroin.  She lauded the schools, had me choose between my father and her.  Pointed out the pros and cons of the two school systems.  I would never get into a good school with a Delaware education.  I needed to move to Pennsylvania. It was so clear.  So I left my home and moved to a strange land.  Being low class and living side by side with "rich kids" does something to your self esteem.  I went from being top of the class to mediocre.  I went from normal to poor.  My situation hadn't changed any.  We had just as much money as we always had.  It's just that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;perspective&lt;/span&gt; changed.  Suddenly I had to compete with the sons of doctors and lawyers.  Suddenly my clothes and hair and shoes were not good enough, could never be good enough.  It destroyed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did end up going to college.  Kids like me didn't go to college.  In Delaware all of the kids were like me.  Some made it and some didn't.  In Pennsylvania, only the rare few of us working class kids made it out.  Instead I took a few years off and then joined the Air Force when it became clear to me that 19 year old cashiers don't get very much in this world.  There I became a computer programmer.  I have the equivalence of a degree in IT.  That's fine for jobs but when it comes down to it, I never went to college and I will always be less in some peoples eyes because of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have straddled the class fence for 20 years.  I have never fit in either category.  So where does that leave me.  I am not a professional.  I personally love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;waitressing&lt;/span&gt;.  Love it.  My mom did too and now she loves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;bartending&lt;/span&gt;.  Does that make us less than someone who loves engineering?  Does that make me any less liberal religiously?  I know plenty of people who could be served by a liberal religion.  Who could be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;UU&lt;/span&gt; if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;UU&lt;/span&gt; was more about the spirit and less about liberal politics couched as religion.  I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;UU&lt;/span&gt; needs to look long and hard at itself and see if it is speaking to a universal condition or just an upper class one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-718782056051408504?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/08/uu-and-working-class.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5299930781708804104</guid><pubDate>Fri, 03 Aug 2007 19:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-03T15:50:40.801-04:00</atom:updated><title>Blog?  What's a blog?</title><description>My goodness! Has it really been nearly 3 months? Where have I been?  All over.  We joined the pool again this year.  The major difference between this year and last is my license.  That's right, I can drive.  And, boy, do I drive.  I have not been home since the day I got it.  I've driven to Ohio twice this summer.   I put money down on a house only to back out after inspections. Oliver is talking and Nathan has a best friend.  The boys have blossomed socially at the pool.  They have confidence that they didn't have before.  I've found a forum that feels like home, drama and all.  All in all, Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5299930781708804104?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/08/blog-whats-blog.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-4873513376061002151</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 May 2007 12:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-09T08:14:57.368-04:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>So i have been notified that I am not poasting ofeten enough.  I haven't.  It seems that since my dad died I've just been getting by.  I'm living in a constant state of reaction.  Things are settling a little.  It's just that busy time of yeatr.  I'm going to the shrink, have those silly parenting classes, church, swim lessons.  Argh!  There's not enough time in the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for 3 weeks I had this guy here doing work on the house for me. What a mistake!!!!!  Not only does he do horrible work but it turns out that he's a heroin addict!  For Pete's sake!  I guess that explains why he did beautiful work the first day (broke) but got sloppier as time went on(had money/drugs)  i feel liek an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-4873513376061002151?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/05/so-i-have-been-notified-that-i-am-not.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-8222451479704066851</guid><pubDate>Fri, 23 Mar 2007 03:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-23T00:00:35.678-04:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>death</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>dad</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>firsts</category><title>dead people suck!</title><description>Ok, so one of my trademark Dani insensitive remarks is ,"Dead people suck, don't be a sucker!"  I'm thinking of making a t-shirt.  Really, they do though.  I simply can't stand dead people.  Dead babies, forget about it.  Ugh!  But you know what really, truly, without a doubt sucks?  DYING people.  They are even worse!  And boy do I know.  I have had more than my fair share.  My brother was dying for 6 years.  Death.  I am at peace with it but it is just so damned messy.  It just hurts.  Everywhere and at such random moments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my brother's 27th birthday.  It is his first without my Dad.  First's suck.  Tonight my stepmother called.  All those years my Dad didn't think they had long distance.  All those years he didn't even try to call.  Tonight she thought it might be Timmo's birthday and she decided to just try.  She didn't think the call would actually go through but she dialed anyway.  It went through.  Can you believe that?  They have long distance.  @#$@#!  So she wished Timmo a Happy Birthday and then called me.  I bought her a pair of earrings a few weeks after Dad died and mailed them to her.  I never knew if she had received them or liked them.  She says that she wears them 4 or 5 times a week.  That they make her feel beautiful and loved.  Hearing her voice makes me want to talk to Daddy.  I just want to say where is he, put him on.  I miss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-8222451479704066851?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/dead-people-suck.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5856097254220821455</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Mar 2007 16:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-23T00:02:15.347-04:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>homebirth</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>responsibility</category><title>responsibility</title><description>I am so freaking tired of people not taking any damned responsibility for themselves! I am into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt;. But when you opt to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; you have to give up some things too. You have to give up the convenience of eating poorly, you can't rely on somebody else advice anymore. You are taking the responsibility on yourself. One of the reasons that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; is so safe is that the women who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; are more educated (about birth and in general) and are healthier. We live a healthier lifestyle. Now anybody who looks at me can see that I am fat. I am obviously not perfect. But I try my darnedest. I eat mostly veggies and protein. I am not out eating McDonald's every night. I could work out more but I digress. When I was pregnant I educated myself on what exactly I needed to eat in order to be the healthiest I could be. When my sugar looked funky I immediately cut out ALL sugar. I took my midwife's advice but I also did the research myself. I wasn't relying on her as my sole source of information. She was just one piece of the puzzle. She was one reference. I bought over 20 books. And read them over and over. I know more about birth than some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OB's&lt;/span&gt;. Heck, who am I kidding, MOST. No I can't give a c-section or an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;episiotomy&lt;/span&gt; but I could deliver my own baby or yours if need be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really makes me mad are women who want to have it all. They want to be typical lazy Americans who don't eat well, exercise or follow doctor's orders but at the same time they want to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt;. When you do that you are not just putting yourself at risk you are putting the entire institution of midwifery at risk. You are risking my next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt;, and your midwife's career - not to mention her freedom. Either you take the responsibility on yourself or you submit to the doctor. You can't have it both ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5856097254220821455?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/resposibility.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-9114856518710595557</guid><pubDate>Fri, 16 Mar 2007 12:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-16T08:32:32.118-04:00</atom:updated><title>Tuesdays wiht Morrie</title><description>Last night &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HunnyBunny&lt;/span&gt; and I stayed up till after 1am to watch Tuesdays with Morrie. We read the book about a year ago and it really touched &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HunnyBunny&lt;/span&gt;. Yea, it touched me too. But he read it first and I hadn't been even planning to pick it up for a while. He insisted that I read it. Right away! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dontcha&lt;/span&gt; just love Morrie? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dontcha&lt;/span&gt; want to just hug him? It make me think again about moving to be closer to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HunnyBunny's&lt;/span&gt; Dad. We've already lost one grandfather and I would like my boys to know their other one. My family here is never going to change. They don't visit us now so what's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;going&lt;/span&gt; to change in the future. Maybe if we moved we would see more of them. Of course I'm not going to make that decision anymore. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;HunnyBunny&lt;/span&gt; has to decide if he wants to start over in a new job. I don't really care where we live. It would just be nice for the boys to know their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Pappaw&lt;/span&gt;. He loves them so much and desperately wants us there. Can you believe we were supposed to move almost a year ago? Can you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;HunnyBunny&lt;/span&gt; hasn't finished updating his resume yet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-9114856518710595557?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/tuesdays-wiht-morrie.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5991259705031947893</guid><pubDate>Fri, 16 Mar 2007 01:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-15T21:17:11.893-04:00</atom:updated><title>Rotovirus sucks!</title><description>What a week we have had over here!  On Sunday Piglet got a horrible stomach flu.  Throw-up everywhere!!!!  Then Monday night Monkey got it and a few hours later HunnyBunny.  Tuesday night it finally caught up with me.  Oh my goodness.  That was not fun!  I seemed to have the least of it.  By Wednesday Piglet was better but I was at my worst.  But guess who had to watch him anyway? Me.  Why are men so damned useless sometimes.  Ok.  I know that isn't exactly fair.  HunnyBunny had a huge startup for a project at work on Tuesday which he missed so he had to play catch-up.  But damn it he could've put him in the sling and carried him.  Or hired a nanny.  Or I don't know. I just sure didn't feel like entertaining super-happy-baby, who doesn't watch T.V. by the way.  Ugh!  How exactly did I turn Monkey into a T.V. zombie?  Oh that's right, HunnyBunny did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5991259705031947893?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/rotovirus-sucks.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3784929048469487240</guid><pubDate>Sat, 10 Mar 2007 02:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-09T21:40:38.230-05:00</atom:updated><title>Oh Boy!  Am I ever bitchy today!</title><description>Last night I got my first period since May 2003.  I have been pregnant or nursing since then.  I still am but it decided to come back anyway.  Fertility has returned.  It is so weird for me to have a period.  I mean seriosly we're talking 4 years now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a big thing for me but who do you tell?  Should I email all of the Flyladies?  The East Coast Mamas?  Do I call HunnyBunny at work?  Does anybody really give a shit?  No not really.  HunnyBunny's response was, "shudder".  Thanks asshole.  Way to make a girl feel sexy.  I'm excited.  I feel I just got my first cycle all over again.  Except DAd isn't here to hand over a $20 and say, " Good Job!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3784929048469487240?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/03/oh-boy-am-i-ever-bitchy-today.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-3250576023335449233</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Feb 2007 05:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-22T00:28:45.237-05:00</atom:updated><title>where did february go?</title><description>Wow, my last post about real life was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ground hog's&lt;/span&gt; day.  crap!  i lost a whole month.  i had to take monkey to the doctor's today.  he has been complaining of a tummy ache for nearly a week now.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mean&lt;/span&gt; waking up screaming at night with, "i hurt!"  I  have called the doc twice and tonight she agreed to check him just in case.  What the hell is wrong with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pediatricians&lt;/span&gt;?  Are they not the most insufferably patronizing people around?  Like I'm too stupid to realize that yes, this is most likely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;constipation&lt;/span&gt;.  However i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; YOU to make sure I'm not missing something.  I'm not some freak with Munchhausen by proxy.  I just want my kid to stop screaming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and get this!  They wanted me to fill out a blanket consent form.  ya know, just in case both of us are unavailable and they need to treat him for something, blah, blah, steal you rights, blah.  um, can you say NO!  I crosed out the form and wrote refused consent.  If there really is something that dire I'm my mother would be able to handle it.  I am not giving some freaking doctor's office the right to do whatever the hell they want to my sons.  No way!  I can see it now,  Oh while we were in there we just gave him every shot we have and put him on adderal.  La la la.  And the other mother in the office didn't even question the form, didn't even READ it!!!!  How could she just sign her rights away?  I guess so many people have that doctor knows best complex.  Not me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-3250576023335449233?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/02/where-did-february-go.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-1051376002409678221</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Feb 2007 05:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-18T01:05:35.044-05:00</atom:updated><title>What a fucking difference 2 weeks makes</title><description>I feel like I have been through the wringer.  I am beat.  Now I got the money fights to go through.  And the divying up of his crap.  Man, I do not feel like dealing with that.  I'm so conflicted about my Aunt's role in all of this.  She has helped us out so much but she has also been a complete pain in the ass too.  She's a control freak!  Ok, I know I lost it.  I know that I called her and Linda up and told them they needed to handle the funeral arrangements.  But that doesn't mean that I need her to bother Linda for my Dad's stuff.  Could you imagine going through the horror of you DH killing himself and then having his family swoop in like vultures? Fuck that.   I'm giving Linda time to say goodbye.  I can wait to get the things that mean something to me.  I still need time as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fund raiser was a bust.  Nobody showed up.  The plan was to raise at least $4000.  I think we might be able to raise $2000.  Oh well. That'll pay back the couple of people who helped pay for the funeral and then buy Timmo's ticket and hotel in Arizona.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-1051376002409678221?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/02/what-fucking-difference-2-weeks-makes.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-7063670650167700401</guid><pubDate>Sat, 17 Feb 2007 03:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-16T22:37:55.706-05:00</atom:updated><title>good quote</title><description>A quote I found recently makes me smile, and there's a lot of truth to it: "Three Wise Women would have… Asked directions; Arrived on time; Helped deliver the baby; cleaned the stable; Made a casserole; Brought practical gifts; and There would be peace on Earth."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-7063670650167700401?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/02/good-quote.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17918748.post-5841450011066142657</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Feb 2007 16:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-15T11:57:10.478-05:00</atom:updated><title>Hang in there....</title><description>Are you kidding me?  I know you all mean well but seriously, my Dad HUNG himself.  I am laughing about it, a little.  I mean I do have a sense of humor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaacccccckkkkk!!!!  I don't think I can deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,  I cannnot count the number of times I have been told to "Hang in there" or "Hang on"  by well wishers this week.  I'm not really sure what my point is.  I just had to post this to get it off of my chest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17918748-5841450011066142657?l=chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chipmunkmomma.blogspot.com/2007/02/hang-in-there.html</link><author>bad.dani@yahoo.com (Bad Dani)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>