I want my MTV!

'Colbert,' 'SpongeBob' may go dark on Time Warner

Personally, I'm quite tired of my cable bill creeping up a little bit here and there. I had this idea that I could arrange for cable television for a certain price and it would stay that price for some time - like maybe a year. But that's not how it works. I call the cable company and agree on a package for a certain price and I get that package and that price for a few months. And then, with no warning, my bill one month is $0.37 more. And since I peaceably pay that bill for a few months, I am rewarded with another increase, this time maybe $0.81. At the end of the year, my cable bill is several dollars more than it was when I opened my account.

Frustrating.

I wouldn't even get cable (I wouldn't even have a TV in the house), if it weren't for my husband who likes to watch programs that aren't typically on rabbit-ear TV: Food Network, TLC, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, the History Channel. Of course, he has very little time to watch TV, so I might try to convince him that we should go without for a few years. Maybe his next job won't be so time consuming. Yeah, right.

So the deal is that Viacom, which owns MTV and Nickelodeon, wants more money for their channels from Time Warner, which would mean one of those surreptitious hikes in Time Warner customers' cable bills. And they are threatening to pull their channels if they don't get it!

"We make this request because Time Warner Cable has so greatly undervalued our channels for so long," [Viacom] said. "Ultimately, however, if Nickelodeon, Comedy Central, MTV and the rest of our programming is discontinued — over less than a penny per day — we believe viewers will see this behavior by their cable company as outrageous," it said.

Certainly, I think the Peanut Gallery at most homes would be outraged: no Nickelodeon? Waaaa! But I'm wondering if there aren't other bill payers, like me, who are just sick of the price increases. Be strong, Time Warner! Don't let Viacom bully you!

Sewing Machine

Because my girls' ballet studio is a bit chilly, I gave them ballet sweaters and leg warmers for Christmas. They have worn them every single day, so I guess they like their gifts.

In Katie's class, they wear light blue leotards, so she usurped the blue skirt I made Jenny for Halloween. This did not sit well with Jenny, who wanted a pink skirt to match her pink leotard. I bought the fabric weeks ago, and hoped to make it for the 25th, but I just didn't have time.

I also had some fabric I intended to use to make small bags specifically for the carrying of all this ballet "gear." I'm a little tired of pink slippers on the floor of my van. This project, too, did not get underway before Christmas rolled around.

But since I'm on vacation this week (ha!), I have the leisure to partake in my favorite hobby: sewing.

First, I modified the blue skirt from a wrap style to an elastic waist style. Then I made a pink one for Jenny, using the same wrap pattern (style H), but modifying it so it is slip on.

Then I modified this pattern to make shoulder bags for the girls. Mine are fully lined and narrower than the pattern designs. I also made the straps shorter for their smaller bodies. Fortunately, the girls preferred different fabrics, so they have opposite bags with the outside of one girl's bag being the lining of the other girl's bag. Now I'll know who to yell at for leaving her stuff on the floor.

It won't be Jenny, though. She almost never stops carrying her bag. It is rather stylish.

In this picture you can (barely) see a hair net I made for the girls back in October. I made another one for Jenny to match her bag.

That was yesterday's work. Today I'm replacing worn Velcro on two of my husband's uniforms (a tedious job). I also hope to stitch on the proper patches to Billy's scout uniform. It's been 6 months, and he still has the council patch from his pack in Kansas. I think the kid deserves a squared away uniform, at least in time for the Blue and Gold Banquet in February.

Family gift: if it makes Dad happy, then it makes everybody happy

Bill put on his Christmas wish list a Remington 870. Fine. The man wants a gun for Christmas, I'll get him a gun for Christmas.

But then he typed in after it that it could be a "family gift."

Who is he kidding?

Oh, I'll learn to operate it. That way, he can abandon me for weeks or months at a time but still rest easy at night, comforted by the notion that between the dog and the gun, his family can fend off the average bad guy until the police arrive.

But as long as I have money and a grocery store that will take it, I will never ever shoot a duck or a pheasant or any other animal unless it is rabid and about to attack my toddler.

Bill flew to Korea on November 30th, and first thing on December 1st, I called a friend of his. He helped me figure out exactly what to buy, where to go, questions to ask so that I would bring along all the proper paperwork. I'm not sure what all the other people in the office thought about Bill's wife calling this guy as soon as Bill went out of town. But such are the indignities I am willing to suffer just to make my husband's Christmas special.

Finally, by the end of the week, I had the time to head down to the gun shop of choice. I packed all six kids in the car and put five bags of M&Ms in my pocket. The deal was, if anyone said that my kids were well behaved, the kids could have the candy on the way home.

We had to be quite a sight. I, obviously, did not know a thing about guns. But the man was nice, the kids were complimented (and earned their candy), and I walked out of there a gun owner.

This is something I never expected I would ever do. But that's my husband: always getting me to try new things, stretch my horizons, grow, develop, expand. Or maybe that's just part of being an Army wife.

Because Bill then went to Japan and continued to be away for another week, I knew that the majority of the children would completely forget about our little adventure. Those who remembered were most likely to keep a secret. And they did, shockingly enough. In fact, I think even the older ones temporarily forgot, and didn't say anything when Christmas Day arrived and there was no shotgun under the tree.

It was the day after Christmas when Bill and his dad started talking about guns that Fritz, an eager listener, sought me out. "Uh, Mom, what about Dad's gun?" he asked. "Don't worry about it," I reassured him. And, good kid that he is, he left it at that.

I couldn't resist. Instead of giving it to him for Christmas, I saved his "family gift" for yesterday, the Feast of the Holy Family. I'm not sure what Jesus, Mary and Joseph would think about my gift, but I think it's funny.

Bill was thoroughly surprised, and I'm not sure which impresses him more: me buying a gun or the kids keeping a secret. And although I find myself to be completely predictable, I am still managing, after nineteen years, to keep Bill guessing.

It could work

"Honey, while you're out, can you get me some bay leaves?"

"You want me to get you some Bailey's?"

Hm. Maybe I shouldn't have clarified myself. Yummy recipes here.

Uncontained anticipation

"I.can't.wait!"

Overheard 50 times per kid times four kids.

Let's add sugar into the mix. Just for fun!

Sold Out

Yesterday's two hour adventure at the grocery store was slightly less successful than I had hoped. Items I could not find:

clementines
syrup
pineapple juice (in any form)
canned pumpkin
almond extract
powdered sugar
pecans

For school, Fritz just needs to recopy an essay and read a few chapters in a book and then school is officially out for 2008. I guess I'll be heading to another grocery store when he's done. Today is baking day. Tomorrow is cleaning day.

Bill has a theory that Christmas lights charge up children. Last weekend he decorated outside, and the kids went wild. Yesterday he strung the lights on the tree, and I was convinced I could hear their little bodies emitting a humming vibratory noise whenever they passed near.

Only.three.more.days. Are you excited yet?

The Twelve Days of a Large Family Christmas

This is cute. H/T Katharine at No Fighting, No Biting!

Katie's MRI

Katie has been complaining of knee pain for about a year now, and her newest doctor decided she should have an MRI. Because of her age, she had to be sedated. Bill took off work yesterday and spent all day at Walter Reed with her - leaving around 6 AM and returning at 5 PM.

Both my older boys have been anesthetized for different things, and their recovery was uneventful. Not surprisingly, though, Katie takes after her father and his side of the family with vomiting and an unwillingness to wake up afterward. At home, she closely resembled a late night drunk as she staggered around with half-lidded eyes. I had to order her several times to stay put before she started calling out when she wanted something. It was a pitiable sight.

We don't expect to hear from the doctor until next week. And while a prayer for her would be appreciated, think more of the other littler children who were getting MRIs with her. They, and their parents, suffering through much worse than a chronic complaint of achiness could really use a few Aves.

Not the Big Brother

Last night, Bill very generously left work "early" (before 6 pm) and got home in time for me to attend a penance service sans children. Mary was not happy at being left behind, but she would have been more unhappy to attend a reflective service past her bedtime. And I would have been most unhappy at dealing with an unhappy baby at said reflective service and might possibly have nullified any potential grace received thereby.


As toddlers, my children are not as anti Not the Momma as they are when infants. With no other choice, they will eventually find solace on daddy's shoulder and pass out from exhaustion. Or they might resolve to hold an all-night vigil awaiting my return. Either way, a few hours every so often without me doesn't kill them.


Bill, though, long used to playing second fiddle to me, is now finding even that slight superiority being usurped by his oldest son. Mary spends much more time with her homeschooled big brother than with her works-out-of-the-house father, and she finds Fritz to be a fun and adequate alternative to her preferred caregiver. Fritz, to his credit, loves to dote on her, carry her around, play with her (anything, anything, to avoid doing school work, right?).

So last night, as she loudly informed everyone her opinion regarding Mom-going-out-for-the-evening, Bill would reach for her to offer his comfort, and she would swat him away while turning to Fritz. It was his chest I saw draped with her sleeping body when I returned.

Poor Bill. Not only is he Not the Momma, he's Not Fritz either.

Not-so-Happy Hour

Katie, after suffering through a hair combing as well as a math worksheet involving borrowing:


"I need a drink."


Chocolate milk. Make it a double.

Public Service Announcement

Lavender is NOT a boy color.

She's bald, alright? Bald is beautiful.

Stop calling her a "little guy."

Gift idea for the hard-to-shop-for Misogynist

"Aiko doesn't need holidays, food or rest, and will work almost 24 hours a day. She is the perfect woman."

Admittedly, the conversations are a bit dull.

Good stuff

Hot tomato soup for lunch.

Bill got back last night from Japan.

The piano teacher finally emailed me back confirming that I had, in fact, left my day planner there. I have found my mind.

My dad is out of the hospital and mobile. Broken hips aren't like broken legs, and they get you up and moving around fairly soon. He has to use a walker, but we aren't going to call it that, because old people use walkers. I'm going to call it a "four-point crutch."

My mother is a Registered Nurse. She does home visiting and happened to be telling me several weeks ago that people don't like to use the term "nursing home," because nursing homes, like walkers, are for old people. Instead, when she has a patient who needs some "assisted living", she tells them that they need to go to Rehab. It's still a nursing home.

Yesterday she called with an update about Dad and said he'd be leaving the hospital probably that day. She said he'd be going to rehab. I said, "Oh. You mean he's going to a nursing home." She laughed, remembering how she had clued me in on that euphemism just recently.

So, my not-so-old Dad is going to practice ambulating with his four-point crutch at a rehab facility. He should be home before Christmas.

Lastly, Billy informed me that, for France, he is to take chocolate for the party. Doesn't get much easier than that. I have a bag of M&Ms in the cupboard...

S.O.S.

I have four children in CCD. Next week, they are having an "Around-the-World" Christmas party. That's sounds nice, right?

Of course, that means bringing in food or other Christmas-y things related to different countries.

Fortunately, the girls' classes have the same country. Unfortunately, their country is the Phillipines.

Billy has France.

Fritz has Italy.

If anybody has any suggestions...

...do not simply Google "French Christmas food." I can do that. I could probably pull out some cookbooks I have and get some ideas for Italy and France. The Phillipines is tough, though.

Key word: simple.

Key concept: I do not wish to purchase new kitchenware, and I do not want to hunt in 8 different stores for a specialty ingredient.

I know, I'm so difficult.

Also, they prefer finger foods. Desserts. Appetizers.

Help!

Please excuse my screaming

I can not find my day planner. Every commitment. Every address. Every scheduled event.

When I say I've lost my mind, I really mean it. My brain book is lost.

Prayer request

If you Google "percentage of people who die within a year after a major fall," various sites will tell you that when someone over the age of 65 falls and breaks a hip, about 25%-30% of them die within a year. Of course, plenty of these people might be octogenarians or older.

Fortunately, my Dad is only 62. Unfortunately, he's in the hospital right now.

Prayers for my parents would be appreciated.

Note: a nurse at the hospital was the one who presented my mother with the statistic listed above. Nice, huh? Let's focus on the worst case scenario, eh?

Additional note: I am more prepared to face my own death than I am ready to face the death of my parents. And I am definitely not ready to think of my dad as an old man who falls and breaks a hip.

Mary Moments Carnival

From Sarah, the Snoring Scholar, who lives on a farm in the Midwest:

In December, we will honor Our Lady of Guadalupe with our Mary Moments carnival. We welcome your feast day celebration ideas, traditions, recipes, or reflections. Do you have a special devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe? Have you felt a special bond with this image of Mary? Can you take a few moments to share it with us as we assemble a bouquet for Our Mother on this special feast day?

Submissions are due by December 12, using the online form or by emailing me at peerybingle [at] gmail [dot] com. If you don't have a blog, you can still participate! I'll post your entry as a guest post here. Mary Moments: Honoring Our Lady of Guadalupe will be live on December 15.

Did you just say what I thought you said? No? Good.

"Oh, Jesus!" I heard Katie exclaim in the back of the van.

I blinked once, twice, thrice in completely shock and disbelief. I slowly inhaled and mentally tested my "nonchalant" voice and sought the right words to ask who/what/where/when/why she would talk like that.

"I see a statue of Jesus!" she continued. Yes, outdoor nativity sets are out there. Fair warning.


*******

Billy comes up behind me while I'm on the computer.

"What does K - Y mean?" he asks.

Um. Well. Maybe I should get some more data. I turn and he's holding a magnet off the fridge from Fort Knox.

"Kentucky."

Planned Parenthood Tells 'Teen': Lie To Get an Abortion

Nothing new here. We've heard it before, and nobody should be shocked. But the video is definitely worth watching.

What really, really bothers me is that the nurse, obviously, thinks she's being compassionate. You can hear it in her voice. She really wants to help this little girl whose life would be seriously affected by this pregnancy.

But she has all the logic of a teenager: if I'm pregnant, I'll be in trouble. If I'm not pregnant, I won't be in trouble. Therefore, all I have to do is not be pregnant, and I won't be in trouble.

It really takes someone with maturity (a grown up) to recognize a few things:

1. Pregnant or not, a child having sex needs to be protected from stupid choices.
2. Pregnant or not, a girl of any age needs to be protected from older boys and men who prey on them.
3. Pregnant or not, there is an obvious lack of education regarding how to avoid pregnancy, the natural result of the poor choice to have sex in the first place.
4. Pregnancy is not the end of the world.
5. Pregnancy is not the biggest problem here. Sex at a young age is the problem.

Instead of acting like a grown up and trying to solve the real problem (a child having sex), the nurse acts like a teenage friend who figures if she can get an abortion without her parent's consent, then all will be well.

True compassion would involve getting a 13 year old girl away from the predator who is destroying the remainder of her childhood. This might have to involve the police and the courts, and certainly vigilance on the part of adults to keep the girl from him. To a teenager, that may seem unfair, but this should be common sense to mature adults. We don't let 13 year olds get married; we shouldn't be letting them have sex.

And what rational adult thinks an adult male having sex with a teenager, especially one that young, is okay? I can see some quibbling if the girl were 16 and the "man" were 20. But 13 and 30? Obviously, the nurse's compassion only goes so far as she can remain blissfully ignorant of the gritty details. The girl isn't her flesh and blood, and though leaving the girl to flounder in a dysfunctional relationship might prick her conscious a bit, ultimately, her life would remain untouched by any long-term consequences that may arise due to the girl's pregnancy or abortion or unhealthy sexual relationships.

Thank goodness the girl in the video is not pregnant and not 13. We can pretend that this wouldn't really happen - doesn't really happen - routinely at abortion clinics throughout the country. We can also pretend that abortion doesn't present long-term psychological harm to the girl or woman involved.

Heck, we can pretend that abortion isn't really happening or that it isn't really killing babies, too.

But I think it's time we grow up and act like adults capable of seeing beyond the single problem of an unwanted pregnancy. Should not protecting children be a universal desire?

Lord, have mercy

I have several nativity sets, including a Playmobil one that my sister gave to ME, and I make sure that everybody knows that it's mine mine mine and they play with it merely at my whim and pleasure.

I located that set today and permitted the kids to set it up. There were tears and skirmishes, and I finally told everybody to leave it alone and go away. After everyone calmed down and found other amusements, I told the older boys they could play with it. Jenny found out, and she wanted to as well, but I told her she had to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, the set was deserted and I told Jenny she could take a turn. My mistake. Billy had merely gone into the basement to retrieve some other Playmobil pieces - Roman soldiers. More tears, and I told Billy he had to share with her (Fritz had lost interest).

Everybody is happy because Jenny is playing with the nativity set and Billy is having his soldiers run patrols. Doing what, you may wonder? Well, they're Herod's men and they're looking for the newborn King so they can kill him.

Um. Not quite the mood I wanted to set. Accurate, though.

Six Things That Make Me Happy

Rosemary tagged me for this easy meme.

1. Emails from my husband. I'd rather sit in his lap and have him tell me about his adventures, but I'll take what I can get.

2. Little elves who make my bed for me.

3. Finally being able to wear the clothes I wore when I conceived the nearly 14 month old babe. Well, I wasn't actually wearing them when I literally conceived her, but you know what I mean.

4. Washing machines. I spent one summer washing all my clothes by hand (out of necessity, not choice). Washing machines forevermore make me very happy.

5. When I ask the kids for their prayer intentions and Petey says, "For the Pope and his intentions." He has no idea what he's saying, but it's absolutely adorable.

6. A clean and tidy house. Does anything compare?

It said it was shipping from within the U.S.

Bill ordered something off eBay two weeks ago. It still hasn't come. When I emailed the seller, he responded that there was "confusion and delay."

I had no idea we had ordered from Sir Topham Hatt.

Anybody else thinks it's scary there's a whole lot of wiki info about the Island of Sodor?

Emailing Korea

From Bill: ... the worst part was running the gauntlet of prostitutes literally grabbing your arm and demanding you come in. Generally the uglier ones were the most forceful. ew.

From Me: I thought I told you to behave.

From Bill: I am behaving, having only had 1 mixed drink, 1 (bad) beer, and 5 shots of soju (sp?). Soju tastes like smooth rubbing alcohol and is very light in proof.


Hm.

To the man's credit, he moans about leaving us, complains about being apart, and when he gets home tells me what an awful time he had without us. But, trooper that he is, he manages to find some small diversions while traveling, like doing shots in a bar in Seoul.

Poor thing.

Apparantly, I have too much free time

I took this quiz to find out I'm a Katharine.

My husband told me the same thing many many months ago.

I think I might prefer to be a Doris. Or Grace.

If my husband were a woman, he would be a Bette. Except for the eyes.

Clues that Bill is Out of Town

Sleeping

Early this morning, Peter realized that with Dad gone, there is room in the big bed for him.

Eating

Chicken nuggets for dinner.

I had a $1 off coupon (Tyson, frozen, breaded, bagged). Plus, it makes the kids do a happy dance.

Living

"Mo-om, whose turn is it to sit in Dad's seat at the dinner table?"

Working

Pack your bags, we're going on a guilt trip.

To the boys who are wrestling instead of cleaning their room: "Which do you want to be: little children who need their mom to stand over them to make them do their work, or big boys I'm proud to call my sons who know that there is plenty of time for play if only they do their work first?"

There's only one right answer there.

Coloring

A plethora of "I love you, Dad" and "I miss you, Dad" cards.

Watching

I've got a hot date tonight with Daniel Day-Lewis.

My friend, Harry

The first week of December always finds me dizzy from staring at the computer screen too long.

Sunday night was particularly bad. Bill was flying to JFK airport, and I was waiting for his call to let me know he had arrived. The kids were asleep and there was nothing to distract me and occasionally pull my eyes away from the glare.

But I put a major dent in the shopping that needed to be done.

If you shop online, I highly suggest you go through Ebates. It doesn't cost you a penny, they send you money every so often, and sometimes they have really good coupons.

Last month, I had the kids go through a catalog that came for Back to Basic Toys. There are plenty of good things in here for kids of all ages. Lucky for me, they had a coupon through Ebates for 10% off the total order. I noted the promo code and followed the link. I threw a lot of things in the cart, and ended up keeping most of the stuff. It was a sizable order (one or two things per kid times six adds up quick), but in the checkout I missed where to put the promo code and submitted my order without that 10% discount.

Undaunted, I called the company and talked to Harry. Their order system is a bit sluggish, and doesn't post things right away, but Harry took my name and number and promo code and promised to call me back as soon as he could access my order. Twenty minutes later, my email announced the arrival of my order confirmation, and five minutes after that, Harry called and told me all was well and the discount had been applied.

Now this may seem like basic customer service, but it is not. Yesterday, I spent 20 minutes on the phone trying to reach a department in a store to ask a simple question about availability. I was put on hold FIVE times and disconnected once. The only reason I got through was that when I called back, I asked the associate for her name, got the proper spelling, and then asked for a manager. That, I fear, is basic customer service for this time of year.

So, kudos to my friend Harry, who did a great job at a busy time of year and saved me a nice chunk of change. Shipping on that order was free, just so you know. I saved gas money, time wasted in trying to find a parking spot, and Advil-costs to treat stress-related migraines and backaches from hauling bags of gifts.

Now I just hope the packages don't have pictures on the outside.

Bedtime

The baby falls asleep in my arms while I read old posts via Bloglines. (I am very behind.)

Through the sun room, into the kitchen, then the dining room, living room and hallway to her bed. Along the way, I have to step over the sleeping bodies of three other children.

If I turned their bedrooms into something useful, like a sewing room for me, they would be upset.

Bill complains that our weight allowance is dangerously close to the upper limits (hello, family of eight, I remind him). I bet if we got rid of the beds, we'd gain at least 500 pounds. More books!


Now I need to haul them all into their rooms. Last night I left the girls on the hardwood floor, and they woke up in the middle of the night and complained to me about being achy. My fault, of course.

New Month's Resolution for December

Some future year, I will have the wreath and candles out of storage in time for dinner on the First Sunday of Advent.

Some future year, I will have all (or at least most) of my Christmas shopping done by the end of November.

Some future year, I will spend lazy Sunday afternoons addressing Christmas cards and have them all ready for the postman by mid-December.

Some future year, I will string popcorn and cranberries and decorate the evergreen trees (I don't have any evergreen trees here) for the birds.

Some future year, my desire and creativity regarding homemade gifts will not exceed the time and energy available for doing them.

But since it is the beginning of December, and none of the above will be happening this year, I am going to focus on letting go of those ideas. The wreath will come out today (I hope). The shopping will get done (online, mainly). The cards and the treats for the birds and the homemade gifts will get done, or not, as usual.

Ultimately, it boils down to pride. I want to put on a good show. If things aren't "perfect" it means I am not perfect. Failure to meet my own unreasonable expectations makes me stressed and frustrated and grumpy, and that isn't fair to my family, and it certainly isn't fair to me. I can't do it all. And I must humbly accept that.


What is a New Month's Resolution? Every month I look at where I need to focus my attention. Perhaps I've been procrastinating on certain chores. Perhaps I need to spend some extra time with one or more of the kids. Perhaps I'd like to try a new habit. New Month's Resolutions are not grandiose plans to lose ten pounds or declutter the entire house or give up smoking (of course, I don't smoke, but if I did, this would not be the venue in which I would give it up). New Month's resolutions are short-term commitments; they are easily attained goals; they focus on what is needed right now, instead of what is best for a lifetime.

Do you have a new month's resolution?