I'm not sure why I waited so long to file, but I finally did ours this morning. Truthfully I completed them on Sunday, but I didn't click the "file now" button until this morning. I'm not one of those people who bitches about paying taxes, because lets be honest.. they do have a purpose. I am sickened by how tax dollars are used however. Faith based programs? Corporate welfare? War? Rendition and torture?

I'm not going to go into a political rant here. Its tax day, I felt like hearing some Beatles, and as you know - When I have nothing to post, I rely on youtube.

P.S. George W? That silly rebate we'll be getting soon? Its a lot of money. And surely my kids would love a Wii. But we, like most American families, are up to our eyeballs in debt. Heat, gasoline and food costs are way up. Just about every industry's jobs are at risk. No, my kids will live without the Wii.. or rather we're saving our pennies for one. On principle, that "rebate" is paying off debt.

P.P.S. It still blows my mind that despite you being a total failure at every thing in your life, people still voted for you. Hell, at least 27% of Americans still think you've done a good job. If you ask me, they're all on crack - or they just don't care, because dontcha know.. the rapture is coming any day now. Pfffft!

OK.. mini rant over (sorry!).. I did finish the Hedgerow socks on Saturday. ONE WEEK! I haven't taken pictures though, since the battery in my camera is dead, and the crappy rechargeable one I use as a backup is now charging. I started another pair, just 4x2 rib in some bright cheery Kroy Socks yarn. I'm just about to the heel now, but I don't see this pair going too fast. The kids are on Spring Break this week and I'm one busy mama.

In a few days, on Sunday to be exact, I will celebrate my first annual 39th birthday. This is a big milestone, no? Well, maybe it isn't since I plan to celebrate the same birthday every year from here on out.

So I'd like to entertain a little reversal here, and have a little contest. No answering questions, no donations to charities, just leave a comment telling me about a favorite birthday present you've received. I'll pick one at random on Sunday, November 4th and put together a little surprise package for the winner. See, as much as I love receiving surprises.. I adore putting together surprises for others. If the winner is a knitter or spinner, perhaps you'll get a nice fibery surprise in the mail. If you're not, maybe an Amazon or iTunes gift certificate... I have lots of ideas!

And here, I'll get you started. What is my favorite birthday present? Cassidy! She was born just a few months shy of my 30th birthday, and I had always wanted a baby before I turned 30 (weird.. I know!) But besides all of that, Richard and I were both surprised, since we had always thought our path to parenthood would be a difficult one. We were looking at facing lengthy and heartbreaking fertility cycles.. then there it was.. a positive pregnancy test, all on our own. And after a rocky first trimester, when we were expecting the worst to happen every day, despite bed rest and progesterone supplements, we were truly blessed... just in time to fulfill my 30th birthday wish.

Now, go, and tell me all about your favorite birthday present! As you can tell, it doesn't have to be a "thing", it can be "the perfect day", a great meal... anything.

P.S. Scorpios Rule!

Getting back in the groove.. with the laundry, the dishes, the kids, the blog, is harsh. And I was going to just take it easy and make re-entry a little easier, but dammit if I didn't just see this on msnbc..

Toys R Us recalls 16,000 toys.

(note now it says server too busy.. keep trying)

WTF? Again? Still?

Why are we freaking buying shit from China.. STILL?

Richard and I have some discussing to do before I start Christmas shopping. I want absolutely nothing "made in china" in my home, under the tree, or otherwise. I'm not sure how we'll do it and the kids still be happy with "Santa". But gawd.. this.has.to.stop.

Today there is no school, so the three oldest children are home.

Connor woke up at 5AM throwing up.

Alex is now throwing up.

So when Richard came home from work for lunch, I ran to the pharmacy for some odds and ends. I thought about stopping at the bottom of the driveway to grab the mail, but it was pouring.. and figured I'd stop on my way back. I was gone 20 minutes. As I returned and pulled up to my house I noticed that my mailbox was gone. Well, not entirely anyway.. there it was, decapitated from the post and laying way up on the hill with the post bent over. Dual tire tracks running through our neighbor's yard, our driveway and on to where my mailbox used to stand shows the path.

What if I did stop and get the mail and that is when this asshole drove through there?

Richard noted that he heard a loud "pop" after I left, looked out the side window thinking it came from our neighbor's driveway, but didn't notice anything out of sorts.

What pisses me off the most, is that if I had done something like that.. I'd have pulled over and at the very least, left a note on the person's front door, offering to replace the mailbox. The guilt would torment me.

Since our mailbox post is still standing it looks like the car went directly over it, I can only hope it tore out their oil pan. Gawd I hate rude people.

For the third time this week, I've scrubbed the same section of hardwood floor. Milk, juice, and worse, milk soaked cereal dried on the floor so hard I practically needed Ingersoll Rand air tools to get it up. In the end resorting to working away with one of my Pampered Chef scrapers. I do allow Connor to take milk and juice to the living room in a straw cup, but never, ever do I let him take a bowl of cereal with milk in there.. (I'm not sure how this one got by me.)

This repetetive chore drives me absolutely crazy. My weird tick about clean floors just doesn't mix well with a three year old habitual grazer. Sweeping, vacuuming, even a quick mopping doesn't bother me. But having to get down on my hands and knees and scrub away on a daily basis is starting to wear me down.

Now most would say, just don't let the child eat like that.. and once upon a time, he didn't do this. He would actually sit at the kitchen table for every meal (and snack.) But this behavior has evolved as his sensory issues have, and his occupational therapist points out that this is very normal for a kid like him. In all honesty, most days if I didn't let him graze and move around at will, he just wouldn't eat at all.

We are working with a weighted pad now (similar to this one), that within 24 hours of introduction, has shown some promise. Its just a little 8x10 pillow shaped pad filled with herbs and flax seed, which we set in Connor's lap at meal time, or other times when he needs to be a bit more "organized". Its been so helpful that I've been researching other methods of using weighted items with the guidance of our O.T., primarily a vest, and possibly a nap blanket. These are both things I can make vs. purchasing, because goodness you wouldn't believe the prices (don't believe me, check those links!)

To end this rant on a good note, Connor's speech today was incredible. He had moments of incoherence, but at one point, said, quite clear: "Mama, I want a dog". Not what would be his normal speech: "mama, I gogg". So its not all bad. It totally makes up for me having to scrape cereal off the floor.

Do you remember the post last spring where I talked about the horror of finding out that my hair stylist, Patric had left the salon we typically use, without calling me to let me know?

Stay with me here..

Saturday morning, after rushing around to do errands, I took Alex and Dylan for hair cuts. In the summer, they're happy to just have their heads shaved at home with our clippers. But with the weather cooling down, its time to keep it slightly longer. And while we were there, I decided to get mine trimmed. The girl who cut mine, we had never had before, or seen for that matter.. but its just a trim, right?

I explained to her, in detail, how it should be cut: short bob, long layers, but short enough to curl up and not poof out (or I suffer pyramid head syndrome.) And while shes cutting, the boys are also getting theirs done behind me, so I'm watching them in the mirror. When she starts combing my hair and "fluffing" it out, I nearly had a panic attack. I knew immediately what she did and tried to keep from bawling (or killing her) in the middle of a very busy salon. I grabbed the boys, paid, then proceeded to break down once we got to the van.

Imagine if you will, short hair, all around the top, like from ears up, then one stupid long layer of hair at the ears and hanging down. Can't imagine it? Thats probably because its never been seen before. It was HIDEOUS, like a french poodle with a mullet.

Come home, cry some more while Richard tries to console me with "it will grow out" and "aww, its not that bad", all the while, wondering how the hell I'll fix this. Now since Patric left the salon, every time I'd ask where he went (each time strategically asking a different stylist, hoping for a different answer,) it was always an "I don't know - he may come back". But this time it may have been the tone of my voice, or the look on my face, but someone finally told me the general location of the salon he was working now. Armed with that information, and www.whitepages.com, I found him in less than three phone calls, where I got him on the phone, proceeded to scold him for not telling me he was changing salons, and make an emergency appointment for him to try to fix this mess.

Upon walking into the salon, the look on his face made me cry (I told you.. hideous.) While he explained that he did not have my number, just my name. And that the old salon knew exactly where he was, and should have, as they said they would, let his clients know where he went. And well, he fixed it as best he could, which means most of it had to be cut off into a style that is sooooooo not me.

See I'm not really a girly girl - I don't normally wear make up, and I certainly don't fuss with my hair. Because my hair is so curly, I like to be able to wash - condition - apply gel, scrunch, maybe add a headband or barrette, and go. This style? Requires more time, more fuss, and worse, more product. That, and it makes me seriously look 10 years older. With my first annual 39th birthday coming up in November.. looking older is not the look I'm shooting for, ya know?

So now I'll keep going to see Patric every few weeks for maintenance as it grows in, trimming up the bottom and evening out the top. But since my hair grows so slowly, it may be next spring before I'm back where I want it to be. Thank goodness, its hat season.

I'm glad to have found Patric, but wow, what a price to pay for it!

P.S. please don't ask for pictures.. pretty please, I'm begging you.

And if it is, why is it like 90 outside? Doesn't Mother Nature know that October starts next week?

Why why why?

The leaves are changing, and its 90 frickin' degrees.

Something aint right. This is New York.

Nevermind. I just realized this may be a good thing since I haven't had to turn my heat on yet this year. But really, if I liked the heat year round, I'd be looking at Phoenix real estate.

Regular blogging will return tomorrow, barring catastrophic events. I don't have an excuse, other than I've had nothing important to say.

I know I moved politics to liberalmom.com, but lets face it, for now, MLT gets much more traffic. And besides issues of race, at least to me, are not political.. they are basic common sense.

To the point, Mychal Bell's bail has now been denied. And I literally feel sick to my stomach.

Will you consider doing something?

Get the banner here
Sign the petition
Join the letter writing campaign

And I'm still poking around looking to see if there has been a legal fund set up, though I do know there are several firms working pro bono on the Jena 6 case.

*cross posted at liberalmom.com