Tag: Where are we going after Kansas?
Me: Through Illinois, to see one of your dad's sisters.
Tag: Illinois? What language do they speak there?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Religion
On Facebook this week:
Old High School Buddy: is assured that God exists because he has a clear and distinct idea of God, and that his clear and distinct ideas are true because God exists; and he is stupid.
My reply: So, which is it: people who believe in God are stupid, or people who defend their belief in God with circular arguments are stupid?
Or maybe I shouldn't ask. ;)
His reply: The particular charge of stupidity lies with the circular form of the argument, e.g. Descartes. Although, I am open to other theological proofs also qualifying as widly[sic] stupid.
Now, I'm not willing to argue his point. He has always been one of those people whose knowledge and wit were only outmatched by his estimation of the same and a discussion of religion and philosophy would empirically end only in frustration and his deepening disdain for us poor, stupid, sexually repressed Christians.
I do find it interesting that both sides often end with demanding that the other bear the burden of proof. Yet both sides also cling to what they feel is proof enough without being willing to acknowledge or entertain the ideas of the opposition.
My friends all, my dear ones who are religious, agnostic, and atheist -- what do you think? Which side has the burden of proof?
More thoughts on this after I get done with [insert long, impressive list of things I have to get done today].
Old High School Buddy: is assured that God exists because he has a clear and distinct idea of God, and that his clear and distinct ideas are true because God exists; and he is stupid.
My reply: So, which is it: people who believe in God are stupid, or people who defend their belief in God with circular arguments are stupid?
Or maybe I shouldn't ask. ;)
His reply: The particular charge of stupidity lies with the circular form of the argument, e.g. Descartes. Although, I am open to other theological proofs also qualifying as widly[sic] stupid.
Now, I'm not willing to argue his point. He has always been one of those people whose knowledge and wit were only outmatched by his estimation of the same and a discussion of religion and philosophy would empirically end only in frustration and his deepening disdain for us poor, stupid, sexually repressed Christians.
I do find it interesting that both sides often end with demanding that the other bear the burden of proof. Yet both sides also cling to what they feel is proof enough without being willing to acknowledge or entertain the ideas of the opposition.
My friends all, my dear ones who are religious, agnostic, and atheist -- what do you think? Which side has the burden of proof?
More thoughts on this after I get done with [insert long, impressive list of things I have to get done today].
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
bites again
My hands are sticky from the hair glue we just got Tag. He's sporting dinosaur spikes today.
Instead of putting things together (like grouped on top of my dresser) and hoping that the movers will intuitively put them all in the same box, I'm putting things in ziploc bags. Annoying for them, maybe. Less annoying for me, definitely.
Headache.
Spring break had really rude timing this year. I guess it's been good to get the kids to pull some weight. We spent about 20 mins picking up the back yard yesterday. They still get a vacation and I have helpers who really do help. The olders play decently well with the youngers, and it's easier to use up all the perishables with more mouths looking for graze.
Trips to the store with four kids are still a farce. Thus the headache.
Sorry there isn't much funny today. Just wanted to let you know we're hanging in there and it's getting done. So glad I don't have to pack my house.
Hotels and maids for about three weeks again. Hallelujah!
Instead of putting things together (like grouped on top of my dresser) and hoping that the movers will intuitively put them all in the same box, I'm putting things in ziploc bags. Annoying for them, maybe. Less annoying for me, definitely.
Headache.
Spring break had really rude timing this year. I guess it's been good to get the kids to pull some weight. We spent about 20 mins picking up the back yard yesterday. They still get a vacation and I have helpers who really do help. The olders play decently well with the youngers, and it's easier to use up all the perishables with more mouths looking for graze.
Trips to the store with four kids are still a farce. Thus the headache.
Sorry there isn't much funny today. Just wanted to let you know we're hanging in there and it's getting done. So glad I don't have to pack my house.
Hotels and maids for about three weeks again. Hallelujah!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Prepping for move
No bullets, I promise. Wall washing, chair washing, bathtub scrubbing, ceiling fan dusting, picking up every last scrap of whatever has blown into our back yard since we moved here, running all of the gas out of the mower, putting far too much into our trash pile for the nice men to haul it away, denuding the walls, hoarding extra asthma medicines just in case, putting together an "essential papers" folder, and the list goes on and on.
Oh, and an oil change. Can't forget that.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
He passed!
The good word today is that Man passed his last bit of training as well as the weapon qualification.
We never stopped counting down to moving day after that last rifle heartbreak, but now the preparations begin in earnest.
I hardly know where to start.... and then I realize we began quite some time ago. I hesitated to call utilities to confirm a cutoff date, or submit a hold on the mail until we knew for sure that he'd be allowed to get out of here.
2 weeks. Less than 2 weeks.
We never stopped counting down to moving day after that last rifle heartbreak, but now the preparations begin in earnest.
I hardly know where to start.... and then I realize we began quite some time ago. I hesitated to call utilities to confirm a cutoff date, or submit a hold on the mail until we knew for sure that he'd be allowed to get out of here.
2 weeks. Less than 2 weeks.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
fast food and budgets
Money spent on fast food in one year in America: $110 billion.
Spending bill that was just passed by the senate: $410 billion.
Isn't it an amazing thought that if we dropped the same amount of money into our country that we blithely fritter away on fast food, our national deficit would be paid off before people of my generation have kids in the work force.
Just a funny idea.
Spending bill that was just passed by the senate: $410 billion.
Isn't it an amazing thought that if we dropped the same amount of money into our country that we blithely fritter away on fast food, our national deficit would be paid off before people of my generation have kids in the work force.
Just a funny idea.
Monday, March 09, 2009
The week in bites
At the dr's office.
Tag was trying to keep himself amused while we waited for the dr to come see him. He had everyone get on the scale to if he was the heaviest.
My turn came and my sweet, naive son didn't see the decimal point. Quote he: "Mom! You weight 2,000 pounds!"
It's a good thing I was feeling humorful that day.
(results of dr visit: Tag is now on Advair to try to get his asthma under better control. Every time he gets sick we have to use tons of rescue meds, but we're hoping this will help clear up the problem.)
Man has been rescheduled to qualify on his weapon at the end of this week. Hopefully they won't give him a broken one again.
We're down to the count down! Most of the things we've intended dispose of have been doled out to the appropriate facilities. Hotels rooms are reserved. Meds are stocked up on. Lists are made and being checked off. At least I don't have to drive all over half the state to pick up medical records this time.
Tag was trying to keep himself amused while we waited for the dr to come see him. He had everyone get on the scale to if he was the heaviest.
My turn came and my sweet, naive son didn't see the decimal point. Quote he: "Mom! You weight 2,000 pounds!"
It's a good thing I was feeling humorful that day.
(results of dr visit: Tag is now on Advair to try to get his asthma under better control. Every time he gets sick we have to use tons of rescue meds, but we're hoping this will help clear up the problem.)
Man has been rescheduled to qualify on his weapon at the end of this week. Hopefully they won't give him a broken one again.
We're down to the count down! Most of the things we've intended dispose of have been doled out to the appropriate facilities. Hotels rooms are reserved. Meds are stocked up on. Lists are made and being checked off. At least I don't have to drive all over half the state to pick up medical records this time.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Monday, March 02, 2009
And the update is...
And the update is.... nothing. He waited to talk to the captain but it never happened.
But, apparently three guys went through the last part of training and are set to graduate having never qualified on their weapons.
One day at a time.
Thing 1 - flu
Thing 2 - bad asthma and stupid urgent care couldn't see him before Thing 4 became a Tasmanian devil. Home treatment seems to be adequate but I'll be having a word with his dr.
Thing 3 - Still my beloved Destructor Beast. Her latest is a bunch of bananas. We're still finding bits and pieces of them in the oddest places.
Thing 4 - sick, teething, feeling everyone's stress.
Thing A - From twizzlers to death by chocolate mousse pie, I rate today an eclair with sprinkles. Sugar free, fat free chocolate pudding is a blessing from heaven.
But, apparently three guys went through the last part of training and are set to graduate having never qualified on their weapons.
One day at a time.
Thing 1 - flu
Thing 2 - bad asthma and stupid urgent care couldn't see him before Thing 4 became a Tasmanian devil. Home treatment seems to be adequate but I'll be having a word with his dr.
Thing 3 - Still my beloved Destructor Beast. Her latest is a bunch of bananas. We're still finding bits and pieces of them in the oddest places.
Thing 4 - sick, teething, feeling everyone's stress.
Thing A - From twizzlers to death by chocolate mousse pie, I rate today an eclair with sprinkles. Sugar free, fat free chocolate pudding is a blessing from heaven.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Strong armed
So Man went to church by himself today. Sick kids, again. Anyway, a guy there is a physical therapist. They got to talking and then he said "Brother Man, can I try a couple of things?"
Man is always interested in anything that might help so he agreed.
After twisting, pushing, and otherwise making Man want to combative him a little, he declares his theories as to why Man is losing his range of motion, gives him some exercises to try out, and sends him on his way.
Man came home to discover that he has, in 5 minutes, recovered several degrees of range in every direction and a significant diminishment of pain.
Weeping, joy, happiness. And hope, friends. Hope.
Man is always interested in anything that might help so he agreed.
After twisting, pushing, and otherwise making Man want to combative him a little, he declares his theories as to why Man is losing his range of motion, gives him some exercises to try out, and sends him on his way.
Man came home to discover that he has, in 5 minutes, recovered several degrees of range in every direction and a significant diminishment of pain.
Weeping, joy, happiness. And hope, friends. Hope.
Yummy Mummy
Ok, I promised some thoughts on the Yummy Mummy.
The little messenger I've sent hopping about my cranium has attempted to gather pieces of opinion into her little basket so I can put together an essay on whether the yummy mummy is inspiring or degrading to the rest of us, but the only conclusion I've come up with is this: (pay attention, it's profound)
They mean so little that I can't be bothered to form a total opinion of them.
Why bother? Even if you happen to be one of the lucky few who exist in the income range of these stratospheric attention mongers, why bother? You either have your priorities straight and realize that "having it all" in the sense these YM's do means you have nothing, or you're so caught up in being a YM that you never give pause to wonder about the nobility of such aspirations.
I don't think that YM's give us anything to strive for because the standards they have set are impossible to attain by most even if they havn't had children. They are living pieces of art. Modern art. Overpriced, overvalued, and definitely overvoyeured. (I just made that up. could you tell?) Sure, it's fun to see a woman attempt to keep track of a child whilst toppling about skillfully in Jimmy Choos, all the while staying comfortably grounded in our clogs or flip-flops. It's also fun to see if the super beautiful will spawn super beautiful offspring. (yes, Shiloh Jolie-Pitt is quite cute.)
Easy as it is to smirk and wonder how large a staff keeps that woman in fine form, I wonder what they feel as their children grow into sullen, angry divas. They aren't as easy to put aside as small pets or $5,000 handbags. I guess even an angry, criminal child gets the celebrity more attention in the end when they can tearfully simper to the cameras about how they have no idea where they went wrong.
So I ask myself if there's anything I can learn from them. Answer: don't sell a child's trust to any national publication.
And then I quit thinking about them in favor of watching more TED, whipping up smiley face pancakes, and making sure my cutoff shorts are clean for tomorrow because I just got a gob of applesauce thrown at my rear.
Life is too fun to worry about social icons.
The little messenger I've sent hopping about my cranium has attempted to gather pieces of opinion into her little basket so I can put together an essay on whether the yummy mummy is inspiring or degrading to the rest of us, but the only conclusion I've come up with is this: (pay attention, it's profound)
They mean so little that I can't be bothered to form a total opinion of them.
Why bother? Even if you happen to be one of the lucky few who exist in the income range of these stratospheric attention mongers, why bother? You either have your priorities straight and realize that "having it all" in the sense these YM's do means you have nothing, or you're so caught up in being a YM that you never give pause to wonder about the nobility of such aspirations.
I don't think that YM's give us anything to strive for because the standards they have set are impossible to attain by most even if they havn't had children. They are living pieces of art. Modern art. Overpriced, overvalued, and definitely overvoyeured. (I just made that up. could you tell?) Sure, it's fun to see a woman attempt to keep track of a child whilst toppling about skillfully in Jimmy Choos, all the while staying comfortably grounded in our clogs or flip-flops. It's also fun to see if the super beautiful will spawn super beautiful offspring. (yes, Shiloh Jolie-Pitt is quite cute.)
Easy as it is to smirk and wonder how large a staff keeps that woman in fine form, I wonder what they feel as their children grow into sullen, angry divas. They aren't as easy to put aside as small pets or $5,000 handbags. I guess even an angry, criminal child gets the celebrity more attention in the end when they can tearfully simper to the cameras about how they have no idea where they went wrong.
So I ask myself if there's anything I can learn from them. Answer: don't sell a child's trust to any national publication.
And then I quit thinking about them in favor of watching more TED, whipping up smiley face pancakes, and making sure my cutoff shorts are clean for tomorrow because I just got a gob of applesauce thrown at my rear.
Life is too fun to worry about social icons.
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