ImPerceptibility

Archive for August, 2006

I’m trying to figure out an on-line name for myself. Imperceptible is OK, but I’m not real thrilled with it. I’ve spent some time thinking about it and have come up with the following options.

Option 1: Use my real name.I thought about this, and I don’t mind using my real name when I’m commenting on other blogs. I don’t want my real name attached to my blog though. I live in a small town. I don’t want the write something nasty and have the Mayor invite me over for Yoga to sooth my soul. I have nothing against Yoga; I just don’t want to do it with the Mayor.

Option 2: Shorten my current name.Some people call me Imp when they reply to my comments. I don’t have a problem with being know as

Main Entry:
1imp Function: noun1 obsolete : SHOOT, BUD; also : GRAFT
2 a : a small demon : FIEND b : a mischievous child : URCHIN

But I’m not sure it describes me. Well, maybe 2b on occasion.

Option 3: add an adjective or noun to momBeing Pooter bears mom would be all right. Even though I love to write and talk about my kids, my blog is more my place than theirs. That name wouldn’t be too good if I wanted to comment on megalithic structures in Germany, now would it?

Option 4: Pick a name at randomHow about Elizabeth? I’ve always thought I’d be a good Elizabeth. :)

Option 5: Pick a name that means something.I could call myself Virginia since that’s the state I live in. Or I could call myself Tuna Casserole since that what I had for dinner last night.

Option 6: Worry about it later.

Option 7: Just leave it the way it is. It’s not hurting anything is it.

So, tell me what you think. Have any suggestions or warnings. I’m new at this so any help would be appreciated

Well, he finally did it. My husband packed up this morning and left. He’s been talking about it for some time. All right, so he’ll be back Thursday but I still miss him.

He has a meeting in Pennsylvania to discuss the next six years of the stuff he works on. Heck, I don’t know what I’m going to be doing six hours from now but, whatever. We were going to go with him, but I just couldn’t see spending 4 days in a hotel with the kids. There is really nothing around the area he’s staying and he’ll be working long hours anyway.

So, I’m here holding down the fort until tomorrow when the kiddos go to grandmas. Then I’m going to enjoy two full days of peace and quiet. No interruptions, no I want brownies for breakfast, no MOM! We’re outta toilet paper or whats for dinner. I can’t wait. It’ll be great. It will. I swear. I really can’t wait.

All right, I can’t wait until they get back :(

We went out to dinner with our neighbors tonight. As we were waiting for a table I noticed someone from my childhood walk in. I remembered him as the guy who beats his wife.

I remember his wife with a broken arm. I remember a lot of things my parents don’t realize I remember. My parents were good about protecting us from things we (in their opinion) shouldn’t know. I was VERY good at sitting quietly under the table.

He walked in like he owned the place with his wife and daughter and I’m guessing grandkids behind him. I watched him for a second and hoped like hell he wouldn’t recognize me. He was much too involved with himself to notice, so I was fine.

Then I remembered, as a 19-year-old at my first job, the phone in the break room was ringing. I answered it and it was him. He asked for his wife. She wasn’t around. I told him so.

He shouted, “Then why don’t you hang up the phone and not answer it again.”

I did.

About six seconds later the phone started ringing again. I sat there and waited. It rang probably 30 times before it stopped. It started ringing again before I made it half way down the stairs with my frozen dinner I stopped. Then I turned around picked up the phone and put it back on the receiver. Then I took it back off and left it hanging from the wall.

I never understood why she stayed with him. I still don’t. All I know is when I reached for my cell phone to throw it right at his fat ugly head it wasn’t in my purse.

My daughter and husband have a long running battle over the chips. He buys them, she eats them. He doesn’t get mad about it. It’s one of those Dad-Daughter games that I don’t understand. He pretends to be mad and she laughs at him.

Yesterday she was finishing off the last of the Doritos when his car pulled into the driveway. She hands me the bag of chips. Here Mommy, have a chip. I take the bag just as my husband walked in the door. There was only one left.

He looked at me kinda funny. I looked at my daughter.

“I’ve been framed!” I shouted.

They both laughed just a little too much

When my daughter was small she continually broke out in rashes and would go from a sweet lovable child to a little monster in a matter of seconds. Her pediatrician suspected a food allergy. I kept a log of her rashes, behavior, and food intake for a week then took her to the allergist. We found out, much to our surprise, she was allergic to nuts and peanuts. When I looked back over the log it was obvious. Every time she had eaten anything with nuts or peanuts she had a reaction. We of course banned all nuts (except the human ones) from the house and made sure everyone knew she was allergic. Except for having to explain to a pre-school teacher that taking nuts out of the trail mix wasn’t acceptable we haven’t had any problems.

I was searching tonight for information about peanut allergies when I came across this:

Nut-Allergic Kids: Nut Mix-up CommonYoungsters Can’t Tell One Nut from Another — Even If Their Lives Depend on It

It made me think, would she know a nut if she saw one? If she was at someone’s house and was offered a pistachio, cashew, or almond would she know it was a nut? What about pecan pie or pralines? She would turn down a peanut, or hazelnut. They have nut in the name. She even turns down coconut even though she’s not allergic to that. ‘It’s better to be safe than sorry’ she says.

As she is getting older, I’m not always there to watch out for her, and I am getting very very scared. What else have I not thought about telling her? What basic information that she needs to get by in this world have I taken for granted? She is half way to being an adult and there is no way I can fit everything in before she stops listening to me.

So, I’m going to sit here and cry for a little while. Then I’m going to print out pictures of nuts. I
need to start somewhere.

Here’s a quick post about how I keep in shape as demanded by The Zero Boss.

I try and take walks with my kids whenever I get a chance and the weather isn’t too bad. It serves several purposes. I get out of the house. We all get some exercise. We get to see new things and meet new people. I can give the kids my full attention. And I feel better.

I play with the kids on the playground. I wonder how many calories pushing a large group of kids around the merry-go-rounds burns.

I stopped eating the kids’ leftover food. Just because they didn’t eat all the Mac-n-Cheese doesn’t mean I have to.

Whenever I looked in the mirror and hated how I looked or that voice in my head started to insult my physical appearance I would make myself do 25 jump-n-jacks or 25 sit-ups. No excuses. Right now! This was very important because if I didn’t I’d go and get something to eat.

I do stretching exercise while cleaning the house.

Sex, sex, and more sex. And I’m on top buddy. I’ll burn more calories that way and I’m not eating anything. Usually.

Finally, the easiest way of all.Buy a cheap scale

I got on the scale this morning. It’s one of those cheap digital scales from Target. It’s not real accurate, but close enough. I was shocked to find out that I weighed three pounds less than I did yesterday. Must be a mistake I thought. So, I got on it again. This time I had lost six pounds. Tried again. Nine pounds.

My wildest dreams had come true! I was loosing three pounds every time I stepped on the scale. I kept stepping on and off that scale until I got down to 90 pounds. Ninety pounds is not a healthy weight for my height but I didn’t care. I can always gain it back later.

Then it happened. Instead of loosing weight the scale put up an E. Oh darn, it’s an error. Then I realized what E really stood for. Emaciated. This diet thing has gone too far! I’m emaciated. Only one thing to do.

Mommy’s having a big ole bowl of ice cream tonight! Real ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Cookie ice cream. Not that low fat yogurt stuff. Ummmm.

Sorry guys and gals but every time I go looking for cheese…

LONDON (Reuters) – Cows have regional accents, a group of farmers claims, and phonetics experts say the idea is not as far-fetched as it sounds.

Lloyd Green, from southwest England, was one of a group of farmers who first noticed the phenomenon.”I spend a lot of time with my Friesians [Maybe too muchtime?] and they definitely ‘moo’ with a Somerset drawl,” he said, referring to he breed of dairy cow he owns.

“I’ve spoken to the other farmers in the West Country group and they have noticed a similar development in their own herds.”I think it works the same as with dogs – the closer a farmer’s bond his with his animals, the easier it is for them to pick up his ccent.” [Maybe some bonds get to be a little too close?]

Dom Lane, spokesman for a group called the West Country Farmhouse Cheesemakers to which Green belongs, said it contacted John Wells, Professor of Phonetics at University College London, who said that a similar phenomenon had been found in birds. “You find distinct chirping accents in the same species around the country. This could also be trueof cows,” Wells said on the group’s
Web site (

http://www.farmhousecheesemakers.com).

According to Lane, accents among cows probably develop in a similar way as among humans, and resulted from spending time with farmers with differing accents.“

Apparently the biggest influence on accents is peer groups – on children in the playground, for example,” he said. “Herds are quite tight-knit communities and don’t tend to leave the area.” [Due to the fact that they are fenced in?]

He added that more scientific research was needed to prove what was just an anecdotal theory at this stage. [Who's paying for that?]

Now that I think about it, this might be true. I once heard a cow fart just like gramma used too.

Seriously, it’s a good website with lots of links and good pictures. And the naked nibble article… I’ll just let you read it.

I Recommend that you never:

Try and break up with your beer guzzling redneck boyfriend with the old “I think we should see other people” line. He’s just gonna say – But I don’t want you to see other people.

I know, I need to let that go.

This is for Kuntry Konfession. I hope your having a great time with your Maw. :)

10 Weird Things About Me:

I have a bad habit of singing the Oscar Meyer Wiener song in inappropriate places.

When I get so angry that I can’t think of anything to say, I say “Absolutely!” I have no idea why, but it either really pisses people off or makes them laugh.

I have worms living in a bowl of dirt in my dining room.

When I hear “umhumm” said with a deep soft southern accent I loose all common sense and turn into a weak kneed, quivering mound of desire. Not a sarcastic or stupid umhumm. It has to be said just right.

I throw up if I drink beer. Not too much beer, any beer. That’s why I stick to rum.

I make up wild stories about my neighbors’ love lives and share them with my husband at night. No, I had no idea Mr. & Mrs. Whoever met at a brothel in New Zealand. I had no idea she was into that!

Men with long beards make me nervous. I think it’s because I can’t see their mouth. I have a hard time hearing people when I’m in a crowd. My brain doesn’t separate all the different sounds like a normal brain does. I have to concentrate on the person’s mouth or I don’t hear them. I jokingly call it hearing assisted lip reading. It’s something like – Hello –phone ring-shuffling noise – Do you think that- cough- sniffle – from the start I said – baby cry – toe tapping.

I motivate myself to clean the kitchen by putting on the Marc Cohn Rainy Season CD and rushing to get everything done before Paper Walls comes on. If I do it, I reward myself by grabbing a wooden spoon and singing the song at the top of my lungs. Dancing like some freaked out 80′s era rock star.

I cried when my daughter told me all she had learned in first grade that day was that the second hand on the big clock moved faster from 12 to 6 than it does from the 6 to the 12. I learned the same thing in third grade.

I like to watch people on the log ride at Kings Dominion get shot with water cannons. It fascinates me that people can react in so many different ways to exactly the same thing.

There are quite a few more. I’ll save those for later