Don't Call Me Lizzie

Wow, long period of silence. Not deliberate….. just necessary. I haven’t spoken about things in my personal life because I still haven’t managed to convince my husband that giving away details of my real life persona won’t send a bunch of crazy stalkers to knock on my door. I admire my husband for many things – his love to for me and our kids, his work ethic, his willingness to talk through any issue I might have, regardless of how hormonal I’m being – but he is a bit naive when it comes to the number of blogs on the internet and how much traffic little ones like mine don’t receive. No one cares enough to hunt me down. But I love him so much I have made certain promises and one of them is not last name and the other is no pictures. Small price to pay.

So, some personal life details to explain the silence… I am pregnant. This came as a huge surprise as I started school in September and finished the last week of April and was supposed to be job-hunting for a position in my field: 911 emergency operator. Instead, I dragged myself through my last two months of school, suffered through the worst group project of my life and happily slept for 14 straight hours after my final exam. I have a sex of twins – 6 years old. I remember that pregnancy. This is kicking my butt far worse.

We also have a living situation that needs addressing… for the duration of my course, we moved into a home that had been divided into three apartments, owned by my dear husband’s great-aunt, J. She was sweet and took the top floor and left us the main floor and the basement. Having three girls meant that bedrooms were easy to figure out and we didn’t need to use the bedroom in the basement… well, with Peanut arriving at the end of July, we have no more room. I don’t want to move to the basement apartment and be that far away from my children, even if we keep Peanut with us for a while… so it looks like our second move in a year will take place shortly. We would like to stay in the area we are in because the girls have made good friends at school and we’d like to try our middle daughter in French Immersion at that school but there is significant pressure from my DH’s family to move back to SV, where we started once we sold our house in MK in preparation for me returning to school. We had the most awesome house in SV until our landlords sold it from under us – right around the corner from the inlaws and in a neighbourhood with trees, lawns and lots of small children. I like this house simply because the elementary school is kitty-corner to us but in other ways, I don’t like the neighbourhood.

So, in a nutshell, this is why an entire month went by without me being around but I vow to do better. DH is encouraging me to take it easy with this (hopefully) last pregnancy and so I want to spend my time until the girls get out of school, reading, writing letters to my penpals, journaling and frying my brain on TV.

**I signed up via this journal for a read-a-thon. I’m so sorry that my health did not permit me to participate. I did offer a prize for people to pick from and someone did. I mailed it off last week to The Burrows in DC (if someone is checking).

Watching HouseMD last night. Laughed out loud when Chase, Foreman and House were singing karaoke. Chase actually has a decent voice – but House and Foreman has back-up singers/dancers were sad. So awkward and so hilarious!

We got rid of “Jon & Kate plus 8″. Just when we thought it was safe to start watching TLC again, they bring us this garbage. How in the world does she expect to be voted into the highest office in the land this way?

So, on Sunday, who was with me, glued to the TV as celebrities (perhaps only in their own mind) rushed around, currying favours, doing their best to ensure that their team won… and finally crowded before the big man with the gavel and spewed out drivel, trying to convince us of their sincerity?

Did you think I was talking about Celebrity Apprentice? Oh, no, the celebrities on that show are far too concerned about their image well-behaved to give me the sort of entertainment I’m seeking. I’m talking about being glued to CNN and watching Republicans battle Democrats in a last-ditch effort to save America from communism and socialism.

I live in Canada (yes that evil hotbed of socialized medicine) and I have one thing to say to our American friends. Welcome to the dark side! I assure you that over time, you will see some changes in yourself and your behaviour but don’t be alarmed – this is natural. You may develop a massive inferiority complex or use the word “eh” at the end of our sentences. You might become more polite and crave pictures of the Royal Family to grace your walls. And if you’re getting a newspaper out of one of those roadside boxes and you see a friend wants one too, you will close up the box, put in the correct change and buy one for your friend, rather than just helping yourself. All normal, I assure you.

On a  more serious note, a bunch of bloggers went to Kenya recently on a business trip with Compassion International and each told heart-breaking, yet hopeful stories of children living in horrible poverty, being able to go to school and care for their communities thanks to generous citizens around the world. I was moved by their stories and pictures – I sponsor a 6 year old girl in Peru and she may be the closest I come to having a daughter. However, one of those bloggers has an online discussion community and I was shocked and saddened by what I read there Sunday night and Monday morning. These people (most are women but I won’t say they are ALL women) were so happy a few weeks ago that they could sponsor children in Kenya – there was even some sort of contest where the blogger was keeping track of how many sponsorships she herself was responsible for. These are the same people who spoke out (quite strongly I might add) about the Health Care Reform Bill and how evil it is. Don’t believe me? Check out this and this.

All I have to say is: Taxes are the price we pay for living in a civilized society. And I happen to believe that we are only doing as well (morally, ethically, spiritually) as the least among us.

Because of my complete and utter obsession adoration for all things “The West Wing”, let me add this:

Sam: Henry, last fall, every time your boss got on the stump and said, "It's time for the rich to pay their fair share," I hid under a couch and changed my name. I left Gage Whitney making $400,000 a year. Which means I paid twenty-seven times the national average in income tax. I paid my fair share. And the fair share of twenty-six other people. And I'm happy to 'cause that's the only way it's gonna work. And it's in my best interest that everybody be able to go to schools and drive on roads. But I don't get twenty-seven votes on Election Day. The fire department doesn't come to my house twenty-seven times faster, and the water doesn't come out of my faucet twenty-seven times hotter. The top one percent of wage earners in this country pay for twenty-two percent of this country. Let's not call them names while they're doing it is all I'm saying.