She’d only wanted to get away from the sadness for awhile, and here she found herself sitting next to her best friend’s cousin – a boy she barely knew. He was angry that his own best friend sat behind him, making out with his younger cousin despite the fact he’d warned him not to touch her. She didn’t understand why he didn’t just look away and leave it be, why he couldn’t just let it go…they were just kissing. But, then he looked at her in that way that boys never looked at her, and she froze. She could feel a tendril of her hair being gently pulled as he wrapped it around his finger and let it fall loosely back off. He told her she was pretty and she smirked at his brashness, thinking he was kind of cute. And, then he kissed her.

Pulling away, she’d frowned. She hadn’t expected that, or any of this. They had been invited to a party, and yet everyone had left only minutes to arrive to fill a car with fog as they choked on joints. She hadn’t wanted to go, though. She wasn’t looking to get in trouble tonight, she’d just wanted out. She’d wanted to breathe, and she’d wanted to stop crying – something she could only do if she could leave for a while. So, she had. She looked up at the boy who had kissed her, and he was frowning now, but not at her. He was getting angrier at his friend behind him and had begun to say something when she whispered, “Why don’t we just go talk in another room?”

Taking her hand, he led her away – away from the kitchen, away from the back patio, and up the stairs. As he opened the door to an entirely different room and she spied the bed against the wall, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. She was fifteen, and still untouched – and sometimes she spoke about things she never meant to do just to impress her friends – but, this was nothing like what she’d meant. She’d only meant they move to another room, away from the activities that had seemed to upset him so much.

But, then she strangled back a laugh – at herself – thinking that even the thought of him wanting or expecting that from her had been too forward of herself. Why was she even worrying? He was nineteen, and she was fifteen – and she didn’t think herself to be too pretty, and she definitely hadn’t done anything to make him think she was up for this…had she?

Sitting on the bed, he patted the comforter beside him and she walked over, leaving the security of the door frame and sat down to talk.

But, he was nineteen and she was fifteen.

(part 2 is here)

Welcome back!

My website disappeared for three days… but it wasn’t my fault.

The bloody pirates and a band of jellyfish took it over.

No worries though, BossSanders is back.

• We’ve been slacking with homeschool…again.  The kidling has began *sort of fits*, now and pregnant mommy is tired and easily frustrated, so we’re just kind of doing whatever will hold her interest these days.  I know she’d do a great job with all of the activities I did have planned, but quite frankly…I have no energy.  So, we’ll fit them in when we can and not worry about it for now.  With both mommy and toddler ready to throw a tantrum, I think we both just need some R&R.
• Sort of Fits.  She hasn’t gone into the total tantrum throwing phase yet like I’ve seen in some kids (but, I do know that I have a good length of time that this could still happen.  Woohoo), but she does get into little bouts where she gets really frustrated and chooses to act that out with whining and some flailing of her head/arms/legs, all the while hanging on to something.  She also usually watches me when she does this, and I choose to ignore her and simply tell her to “Work it out or use your words.”  It might seem mean, but it works.  The words “work it out” alone really seem to help her focus, and I’m not sure she understands the “use your words” part yet.  Either way, fits won’t get you anything in this house except nap-time.
• Two new words:  Hotdog and…well, the next one is the sign (language) for “thank you.”  Oh, and “sock.”  She knows 3 new ones now, I guess.
• Pottytraining…would be so much easier could we find a potty that FIT her.  Lorelei is still very much enamored with her potties.  She will go to them, sit on them – and sometimes she will go to the trouble of taking her pants (and socks ) off and point to her diaper to tell us she wants it off.  If you ask her if she’s “wet,” she will spread her legs a bit and grab the diaper, as if she’s hoping it’ll come right off (she also will say “WET!”).  BUT, the 2 potties that we have don’t fit her.  One is for teeny little guys…like for Elimination Communication, and the other was obviously built for a much taller 19 mo old or for a 2 year old.  So, now we are looking for a potty that doesn’t need a lot of scooting back, and one that doesn’t stick to her butt when she stands up (which could result in a really gross mess).
• On developing relationships.  Lorelei is still doing great with other kids, and is still pretty shy with adults.  She will warm up (somewhat) with adults after 30 min-1 hour, but if she doesn’t really know them, she’s a totally different L.  Her favorite people remain those that she sees really often (every week).  She has different levels of relationships already and has preferences between those relationships she’s already formed – all of which is very obvious when you watch her interact with each of them.  Some people, she will call by name and ask for them, and when she sees them, she gets super excited and shouts their name.  With those people, she thoroughly enjoys her time with them and doesn’t mind if she stays overnight.  Then, in some of her other relationships, she KNOWS who they are but hasn’t given them nicknames or won’t use their name and doesn’t always want to go to them.  While she will mostly warm up to those individuals after a bit, you can still tell that she’s not quite comfortable because she talks less and seems to backtrack a little in regards to her abilities.
• Thumb-sucking.  Lorelei was never much of a thumb sucker as she got older and could walk, but when I got sick she used that and her blanki as sources of comfort.  So, she went from only thumb-sucking at night and naps to WHENEVER.  Now, the blanki has been taken away except for sleeping, and the thumb seems to have mostly followed it.  Occasionally, she’ll still use her thumb (especially when we are out and shes tired…or sick…or upset…or bored), but for the most part when can ask her why she has her thumb in her mouth and she’ll giggle and take it back out.  Other times, we joke with her and pull her thumb out and offer her ours and ask to use hers…which she thinks is both hilarious and absurd – so, she GETS IT that big people don’t suck thumbs.  Also, when she’s bored, simply pulling her thumb from her mouth and giving her something to do with her hands works extremely well.  Then, when she’s sick or really upset, we just let it go…but that’s not often.
• We’re slowly progressing from sippy cup to a specially made toddler cup that is basically a cup with a snap on lid and straw.  It’s really well made, though so it takes a bit of rough-housing to make it leak.  Which is good – because, she still tries to “shake” the cup.
• Lorelei has gone from being able to help clean herself in the shower to talking one totally solo (with supervision, of course).  She knows where the soap is and how to use it, lathering it between her hands and then washing her belly, face, legs, feet, arms, etc.  Unfortunately all of our most gentle products (that won’t burn eyes) are all in liquid/gel form…which she wastes, so we’re not on the lookout for a barsoap for babies…she is a bit obsessed with bar soap right now.  Anyhow, she can rinse herself and will also let us know when she’s had enough and would like to get out.  She’d get out on her own if the tub/shower’s walls were just a tiny bit shorter…and, I’m sure if given enough time alone in there, she could probably even figure that out (like she figured out how to get on top of the coffee table…).
• Discipline has been interesting…  For the most part, she’s sensitive and aims to please (while still being VERY independent and easy-going), but occasionally she gets a little cocky and tests boundaries.  And, mostly she will respond really well to us simply asking or telling her to stop and giving her something else to do.  Timeouts are a joke (for us) at this age and she only understands limited amounts of OUR reasoning and words, so negotiating and explanations would fall on deaf ears.  We don’t really “spank,” but we’ve had to give an occasional “pop” to the bottom or thigh and she seems to understand that.  I’m really looking forward to the development of more comprehension and language in this kid, so I feel like I have more choices in disciplining when she decides to totally disregard anything that even looks like rules (which isn’t often, but is still annoying).
• She’s still napping for several hours straight during the day.  HER preference and I’m definitely not complaining.  She will ask for “bed” or “night night” when she’s ready for bed (and “eat” when she wants to eat, or “juice” when she wants anything to drink).  She goes to bed by 9pm mostly, although there is nothing strict set down – and, we generally like that she can roll really well with whatever our schedules produce.  Most days, if she wakes up before us, she will talk to herself for a bit quietly and then play for a bit before she demands to actually get out.  I love this kid.
• Foods.  She’s back to eating really well.  She demands “apple” a lot, but it seems like she likes the word much more than she likes the fruit, which she’ll only eat a few slices of.  The kid rarely requests “nana” (bananas) anymore, but will eat them (or most of them) for breakfast.  She also is really into grapes, blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries.  She can eat an entire soft shelled taco or a double cheeseburger from McD’s (chill, she ate it once.  It was a giftcard and we were all starving).  The kid can eat 10 pizza rolls in one sitting and still want a snack a little later.  If she likes what she’s eating, she’ll eat a lot of it.  Otherwise, she picks.  Right now, her favorite snack foods are toast, craisins, raisins, fruits, cheese, crackers, Kashi fruit bars, Kashi puffed cereal, and noodles with sauces.  Oh, and tomatoes.  She’ll still eat them like some of you eat apples.

One.

The three of us were sitting comfortably in the car en route to a favorite lunch spot. My aunt says, “Do you know of a boy named ______? He’s rooming with the boys…” I became unusually quiet as I tried to process the best response and instead came up with, “I know him (dramatic pause).” “What’s THAT mean?!” She implored, as my grandmother sat ahead, asking for the fiftieth time if we were sure she shouldn’t be turning yet on a road with virtually nowhere to turn. “Eh. I sort of went on a date with him. My friends fixed me up for prom. And he was horrid, but I’m thinking the boys should encounter a much different attitude from him…” I responded. She stared at me, waiting for me to go on. “He’s a guy. He had wishes about prom that I didn’t feel the need to fullfill and once he grasped this he became a big ass. See. They have nothing to worry about.”

Then, Grams pipes up, “Oh, Ashley. You always were too hard on those boys when you were younger.” Stunned, my aunt and I wait for her next poke. “I always thought you expected too much from them and were just too hard on the poor boys…”

My aunts eyes got as big as saucers as she looked from the front seat to the back, carefully watching for any expression changes on my face…and possibly for signs of an explosion. Was I just chastised for not having sex with a boy I didn’t know on prom night by MY GRAMS? Ohnoshedidn’t.

“Well Grams, sure I was picky about who I wanted to let in my pants…err…have sex with. I’m not a floozy.” I said.

Grams nearly swerves off the road as she tries to regain composure from the words “floozy” and “sex” used in the same sentence. She chokes on her words, also with eyes as big as saucers.

“Mom! She tried to tell you! She tried to say it nonchalantly…” My aunt piped up from the front seat.

“I didn’t hear that part…” My grams grumbled.

Two.

The room was dimly lit – which had more to do with the fact that only one of the 4 lightbulbs in the ceiling fan was actually working, and the slight ping of the rain against the glass doors was enough to lull me to sleep. My husband was in a rather frisky mood and I was in more of a … I’m-pregnant-and-I’d-rather-have-another-cookie-thank-you-much frame of mind. Lorelei, of course was engrossed in another episode of Veggie Tales and was busy tearing apart any book she could find.

My husband, unaware that his 18 month old daughter was watching, reached over to hug me and then grab my bottom. He wasn’t a cookie, nor was he offering one, so imagine his disappointment when I pushed him away. Besides, the kid was still up and can’t watch herself.

The toddler, after taking it all in for a moment, proceeded to march her way over to the couch and fluidly reach out to me…and grab my butt.

I can’t quite explain to you the amount of weird in that very moment.

My husband couldn’t control his uproarious laughter, and my daughter – not one to be left out of the moment, tilted her head back and cackled along with him in her toddler laugh.

 Three.

“Hey Mom,” I had said into the phone, “You know what I’m REALLY craving? Sushi! Do you think we could grab some when Lorelei and I come in for the weekend?”

“Well, I could take you to pick some up for takeout, but I’m not eating that shit,” she had replied.

Now, we were slowly making our way into the small Sushi restaurant that had just opened in town. “Look at all these stupid-sushi-eating people! The whole strip parking lot is full and this is the only place open! Stupid people!” My mother exclaimed, as she tried to find a parking spot.

“Oh, you have to try it just once. You can get sushi that’s been deep fried and cooked and stuff here, too. There has to be SOMETHING on the menu that you like,” I replied as we got out of the car and made our way into the sushi restaurant, my mother making gagging noises on her tongue.

“I’m not eating any of that damn sushi,” She whispered into my ear.

“Okay, fine. Look, they have other stuff too. Cooked stuff,” I said, pointing to the specials board that I couldn’t read.

More gagging noises from her.

(Fast forward to our plates coming out)

Mom eyes the sushi cautiously, just waiting for it jump up her nose and strangle out her insides. Or something.

“That’s sushi?” She asked.

“Yeh, what’d you think it was?”

“Well, I was picturing something like raw catfish and other meats just all in a bowl without the skin.”

I gagged a little.

“Try this, mom,” I said as I handed her a piece of the raw sushi.

She crinkled her nose but took a bite. Chew. Chew. Chew.

“Not bad, right?” I said.

She shrugged.

“Okay try this one…these two are cooked…” I said as I transferred some onto her plate.

More shrugging.

“Here’s your eel sauce!” The waitress said as she dropped off the dipping sauces.

Mom gags on her fried rice. “What is that? Eel blood? You want me to eat eel blood, you crazy girl!?!” She said to me.

I laughed. “I doubt it even has eel in it,” I said quietly, hoping nobody would overhear and correct me about a dead eel sauce.

(Update: After disecting the sushi pieces and explaining what each colored bit was (and which had been cooked or not), mother finally shoved the cooked variety on her plate. Turns out, she likes sushi. Just tell her it’s cooked. Even if it makes you a liar…)

I know that only a small fraction of those that stop by actually leave a comment, but I was wondering if you’d mind delurking for just a moment? Will you please come out, say hi, and could you tell me which post on here was your favorite so far?

I REALLY want to know! If you have more than one, can you please tell me that too? And, it’s okay if you don’t want to rummage through pages and pages of posts, if you could just tell me the gist of it, I can find the link.

I would appreciate it SOOO much

Plus, I’d like to see who all’s out there! Heh.

Here are a few favorites I’ve dug up so far…

Lorelei’s First Snow

Wake Me Up When It’s Spring

My Ad For A Sugardaddy…

Exercise Ball Or Footrest? Must I Choose?

Dear You…(On Loving Yourself, Too And Choices)

All I Want For Christmas

Dear You, (On Finding Love and Being You) 

I didn’t want a puppy, nope – maybe a dog, but not a puppy.

Because…puppies poop.  And chew.  And whine.  And cry.  And poop.

But, then he gave me the puppy dog eyes.  Both of them did, the dog and Steven.  And I felt bad because here was a homeless puppy and my husband who’d never had his very own puppy (that he got to pick out and name).

But, then I felt better again and told him NO.

And then he said “But, I’ll take care of him.  He’ll be my dog.  My responsibility.  You don’t have to do a thing.”

So, I relented.  (Stupidstupidstupid!)

And during the ten minutes that my sanity had left me, my husband managed to adopt a dog.

It wasn’t until later that I realized I’d been dooped.  Totally dooped.  I wondered out loud if he would be taking this new puppy to work, and was  met by an incredulous look.  “To work?  Uh no!” He said.

So much for me doing nothing.  Crap.

And, so it began.  This love-hate relationship with the puppy-shark.  And, as we began thinking of uber cool names, my best offers were immediately shot down.

Personally, I thought Jaws, Mr. Hyde, and Shitter would all be very appropriate names.

Instead, he was named Chance.

But, really…he’s a good puppy.  For a puppy, that is.  I mean, when he’s not chewing my arm or the cords to my Mac or trying to be a punk to the rest of the petting zoo that I already own…

He’s actually really sweet when he sleeps…

And, okay…he’s kinda cute when he races Lorelei…

until he wants to chew on her food, which royally pisses her off.

This post is dedicated to Miss, my partner in crime (except I didn’t do it).

Ornaments…  My family recently adopted this brilliant idea (yeh, it was mine.  So what?) that we would each get a bag with our name on it (or family’s name on it if we’ve begun our own family) and each family/person would bring a small homemade gift.  The gift could be made by you or even bought at the farmer’s market or somewhere like etsy.  Didn’t matter.  The idea was to make it personal, make it thoughtful, and …well, inexpensive.

Last year, I made everyone ornaments.  Very simple ornaments, but I loved these.  They were light and airy and …I loved them.

All you need are:

-Empty glass ornaments
-Ribbon in your choice of color/print/pattern
-And something to put inside

I filled mine with white feathers and pearlescent glitter, but you could fill it with everything and anything…

Some ideas:

Pink or white feathers and miniature pigs.  When pigs fly.  Get it?  Okay, shut up.

Miniature anything…Check out the jewelry and miniature sections of your craft store.  Ideas are endless.  Add feathers or yarn or WHATEVER.

And, if you totally can’t think of anything, just stick a $20 in it.

*If your family doesn’t do this sort of thing, these are good for smaller gifts that you need – or, could be a present-topper.  Bigger gifts to come…

I have this notebook, you see (one of a gazillion because I like lists and such), and in it are ideas for gifts.  Our closest family and friends are in there, as well as some random gift ideas I thought would be cool for anyone.  And, starting right after my birthday at the end of August I begin deciding who will get what for CHRISTMAS.  Last year, I actually handmade every. single. gift.  And, it took me every day up until December 25th to finish them all.  Then, there was Christmas.  And, as I handed out the gifts that I had poured my heart and soul into – and even weeks – I watched every single facial expression as each gift was opened.

And, then I almost cried.

Because while my Father In Law loved the idea that I had made something just for him, and while my brother does NOT wear scarves but wouldn’t trade his to his best friend because his sister had made it for him and he loved it for that reason, and while my father couldn’t wait to tear into the homemade bread I baked him…there were some people whose faces dropped, who shoved the gift aside as if it was nothing more than a cotton ball among ribbons.

And, my heart broke.  Because, last year… I made a LOT of gifts, each one of them were carefully thought into existence and then lovingly and painstakingly made.  A lot of heart and soul went into each one.  A lot of thought.  And  yet, by the end of Christmas I had sworn that NEXT YEAR, besides a few select people…everyone else could have Walmart gifts.  It’s what they wanted, isn’t it?  Some mass-produced unthoughtful gift that I threw into my cart on the way to the checkout line?

But, then this year came and went and I’m making gifts again…but, mostly because if I don’t use the talents I have and be creative, I can’t give gifts at all.  So, I’ve planned the gifts I want to give very carefully, all the while thinking how the recipients would probably much rather have a store bought sparkly bracelet and earrings or a cool new gadget.  And, then I pause for a moment wishing I had that to give to you…because I want you to have the things your heart desires.

I know Christmas isn’t all about gifts…it’s all about so much more, and it’s different for everyone.  But, when money is tight…it’s the gifts you seem to think about.  Not the ones for you, but how you will be able to bless others this year, without feeling like a total failure.

So, when I started getting crafty emails, designed to sneakily get my “wishlist,” I paused.

I don’t really have a wishlist.

Beyond an iPhone, BlogHer09, a vacation, and the luxury to afford the medical bills that are coming in from my latest hospital stays and health insurance without having to worry whether we’ll be able to pay for the necessities…

Beyond that, I have no clue what my wishlist would look like.  Because, quite frankly…wishing means dreaming for things I know I can’t have right now.  Things I wouldn’t dare ask my family for when there are more important things that must be taken care of.

It’s not that I’m indecisive or trying to be a pain in your ass while you’re trying to take care of holiday shopping/gift making…I just haven’t thought about *ME* in that regard lately.

On the flip-side, if you need a gift for almost anyone else, I could probably provide you with ideas out the wazoo.

I realize that gifts are a huge part of most Christmas traditions, and while I require nothing (and expect nothing), I also realize you still want a list.

So, here’s a list of the things I could think of, somethings specific and some not.

- I like certified organic shower gels in yummy scents.
-  Bella B’s All Over Body Lotion (I think it’s by Mother’s Intuition)? – It’s on Amazon.
- Really great books that you loved – used is okay too.
- Cold hard cash.  I would love to make a dent in the “7 K medical bills” or to start a BlogHer09 Fund
- Make me something.  I’m trying to use only organic bodycare and I don’t wear bracelets, but beyond that…I’m sure I’ll adore it.
- Craft “Lessons” – Not that I need lessons on being crafty or artsy, but I love getting together with others and crafting, and getting new ideas.  (The Stampin Up events where you do projects counts.)  Pay for one of these, and it’ll mean I also get to get out of the house!
- Pampered Chef Giftcard.  Because then, I could have my favorite Pampered Chef lady over to do another “cooking party” and can use the gift card to order something at the end.
- Trips, big or small.  Whether it’s a gift card that will pay for 2 evening movie tickets, a bucket of popcorn, some candy, and 2 drinks or a stay at a bed and breakfast in Nashville, I’ll love it.
- Clothes.  Unless you have the exact same style as me and really understand my size, though…I can be tricky to actually buy for.  Take me on a shopping excursion to Nashville (or anywhere!) and name the amount.  But, warning…good maternity clothes cost like crazy.  I’d be just as happy if you wanted to wait until AFTER I have the baby to get some new clothes too.
-Give me a “coupon.”  You know those coupon books where you write in things you’ll do for that person and everyone thinks they’re kind of cheesy?  Well, I love them.  Especially if you tailor it to things I love.  So, promise to take me shopping and buy me a new outfit once I have the baby.  Promise to take me out to lunch or dinner (just us, or whoever).  Promise to cook me supper.  Promise me to help put flowers out next spring.  Promise to take me up to a Stampin Up event and buy me a $20 stamp kit.  And, I would love it.  LOVE IT.
- Buy me an experience…  tickets to a broadway show, a learning experience – like a class where we learn something I am interested in, etc.

Or, just send me a card you picked out or made just for me.  Send me your love.

What warms my heart and makes me smile is that you thought of me in the first place.

I’m a rockstar, bitch.  Deal with it.

I like to make mad-talk like I’m actually taller than 5-foot-and-a-whole-damn-inch, but modeling agencies seem to think I’m too short to do any real damage.  What they don’t know is that I can deliver one swift kick to the shins and bring even the big kids down.  Or, I can use my charming ways to make them cry.

I might attempt to sew myself into a dress or to make my own soap and candles, but I still shave my legs.  I’m not a dirty hippy, but I sure as hell don’t like being told what to do.

I am BossSanders.

I’m a bitch.  I’m a princess.  I’m compassionate.  I’m a firecracker.

I began my blog as a journal for my friends and family to keep up with our lives – that, and I was feeling too cheap to pay for postage for a bi-weekly family newsletter.  Plus, I was able to post my Christmas wishlists so people would quit buying me freaking mass-made knitted sweatshirts with light up shit all across the front.

But, then…something unexpected happened.

People began reading my blog – and, while I’m still not sure the majority cares about a word I say (I probably popped up on Google for some weird search like: “itchy boobs” or “naked at the kitchen table” or something), I’m not complaining.  In the process, I’m pretty sure half of the friends and family that started out reading my blog have pretty much left by now.  (Next week, I’ll probably title a post “Leaving my husband, becoming a man” just to see which family/friends are still around.)  Some of my family hates the occasional curse word, and most of them think I’m a nutcase for putting it “all out there.”

But, trust me.  I don’t put it all out there.  I’m always real, but I hold a lot back.  Sometimes, not everything has to be said.

And, while some have said they don’t understand why I’d write something on my blog that I wouldn’t tell my aunt…

Well, all I can say is…You don’t know me very well, then….Do you?

If you ask me, I will tell you.  So, if you don’t want to know, don’t ask me.

Quite frankly, I like this blog.  It’s my journal, it’s my sounding board, it’s my release.  I like being able to write some of the most random things and knowing that if people want to know, they will come and read.  And, when it comes to family events, half of my family already knows so I don’t even have to tell the same stupid story and updates 80 freakin’ times.  Actually, sometimes I even hear other people telling my stories…and that’s kind of cool.  Like having someone talk for me so I can sit back and stuff my face with cupcakes.

So, here’s the deal.  This is my blog.  My ideas and thoughts change as I grow and as I forget what I was just about to say…

Wait…what was I talking about…?

But, it’s mine.  And, while some of you are convinced I’m going straight to hell because I have the audacity to be honest, well…spiffy.

But, for the other 80 percent who’s convinced I’ll be trucked off to the loony bin first…all I can say is…

You have to catch me first.

(BossSanders is back.  You might want to cover your eyes and ears.)

Up and down.

And, all around.

Another cycle, and I want off the bus.

I’m tired of having to constantly “watch my back,”

always unsure of where the next strike will come.

I’m tired of feeling like it’s my responsibility to hold

it all together.

I’m tired.  I’m worn.

I simply want to close my eyes and relax

Breathe

I want to trust again.

I’m done with endless cycles,

I want change.

Or, I want off the bus.

*(A post NOT induced by pregnancy related hormones/emotions)