Life in the 80's

The Daily Oy recently put up a post about memories of being at my house in the 80's. Read his blog first so the rest of this makes sense.

I have mostly fond memories of the 80's and my brother's friends. Well, I do cringe a little thinking about how I tried to interject myself into their activities (pesky little sister, anyone?).

My eldest brother, who I will call K, started a band with his friends. They practiced in our rec room and called themselves Armageddon. I didn't know what the word meant but it sounded pretty cool. I don't think they ever played a whole song through to the end. When I was in high school, I dated a guitarist who did the same thing. Many years were spent waiting for musical closure. This is why I'm so happy Bo Hunkmeister doesn't play guitar.

RM of the Daily Oy was a nice guy, but it was the drummer I had a crush on. My ten year old aspirations were to grow up and marry him. Having later dated a drummer in high school, I'm glad I didn't marry a drummer either. Plus the drummer came from a large family and well, large families are just weird (that was sarcasm). I did appreciate how K's friends didn't just blow me off as a mere nuisance. Or at least faked being accommodating of me.

I did not think you guys were absolute losers. My goodness, y'all were probably the first to eat sushi in your class. I thought that was exceedingly sophisticated of you. I remember you guys doing a teppan-yaki dinner at my house. No mere going for a slice of pizza for you dudes! Do you still count shrimp tails?

And for the record, we did have video games. We had an Apple 2e on which we could play Brick Out and Pong. I don't recall if we had Atari. If we did, my dad probably bought it second hand which means it didn't work well. And we had a Pachinko machine. I remember seeing my mom entranced in front of it one day, and then wondering if we were going to be able to eat dinner that night. I'm sure my kids feel the same way when they see me in front of the computer blogging.

The third wheel thing...well, even his own siblings felt like third wheels when K was up to his plans. It's not a reflection on you, RM, it's K's inability to be sensitive to others when focused on what he was after.(sorry, K, had to be said)

Perhaps the only scarring from that time was growing up liking Led Zeppelin. Most of my junior high friends were into Menudo and Duran Duran and looked at me like I was a counter culture weirdo for liking Led Zeppelin. I realize now, it was training for becoming the counter culture large family homeschooling weirdo I am today.

Off topic here - You asked in the comment section how I make my guy feel like he's the most important thing in the world. I try to remember he's a man, not another girlfriend. I try to follow some of his interests, even if I don't understand them. I don't treat him like he's another one of the kids. I try not to say anything derogatory about him in public (not that we don't have issues but there's a time and place for resolving those things and trash talking about him to the girlfriends ain't one of them). Basically, as cheeky, holier than thou, and preachy as it sounds, I try to treat him the way I would want to be treated.

So RM, angst not, my friend, it's all good.

Technology

My brother recently put me in touch with a friend of his from high school (the editor of the aforementioned Daily Oy). It's really kind of cool to instantly communicate with someone so far away. However, I'm befuddled by the myriad of ways to do so. Do I respond as a comment on his blog? Do I write on my blog? Do I post any of this on Facebook?
Maybe it's pregnancy brain, but I'm having a hard time getting my head around the whole Facebook idea. I still don't know what a poke is. My only guess is that it's another way to waste time (was that sarcastic? it's the head cold speaking). And keeping up with the comments flying around on my "wall". It's like when my kids all start speaking to me at once. Ack! Quiet!
My brother sent me a friend request. I'M YOUR SISTER! I'VE PUT UP WITH YOU FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE!! And in all honesty, he's put up with the little princess herself for at least 38 years. I'd say we're already friends of some sort, aren't we? Thanks to Facebook for making me come out of the closet and say that. As a friend once pointed out, "The more ways I have to communicate, the less I do so." (someone contact MXB and tell him to e-mail, call, Facebook, IM, ping, poke, whatever)
All right, enough ranting. Time to eat. Then find a sunny spot to take a nap in.

Ooo! A mention on someone's blog!

My eldest brother emailed me this blog today. I'm still trying to find out who amongst his high school friends it was. But I'm quite flattered.

I Think God....

...has a sense of humor
...thinks I have the strength of four women
...thinks I have nerves of steel

Why do I know this?

BECAUSE WE'RE HAVING ANOTHER BOY!!!

(Do all ultrasound techs take such great pride in getting the best shot of baby's dinky and pointing it out? Mine did.)

Y'all can start the prayer vigil for my sanity now.

I can already tell Gummi's going to be a handful. Here he is with his butt up in the air and his legs over his face. Cirque du Soleil, anyone?



~sigh~

Anyway, all is well with baby and I will leave you with this parting pic.

Gummi sayz, "Get me a Latte."

Obey the Gummi.

A New Reason to Love Mamala

There are many reasons I love my Mother in Law. For example:

1. She likes sushi
2. She doesn't fuss at me about how I raise the kids
3. She's stylish
4. She introduced me to Trader Joe's
5. She reads my blog
6. She produced my husband
7. She's not a high maintenance house guest
8. She's great with the kids without spoiling them rotten

I could go on but the reason that trumps all of the above is this recipe she sent me recently:

CHOCOLATE CAKE-IN-A-MUG
1 coffee mug
4 Tbsp. cake flour (plain, not self-rising)
4 Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. cocoa
pinch of salt
1 egg
3 Tbsp. milk
3 Tbsp. oil
Small splash of vanilla
3 Tbsp. chocolate chips, optional

Add dry ingredients to mug, mix well with a fork.
Add egg, mix thoroughly.
Pour in milk and oil and vanilla, mix well.
Add chips, if using.
Put mug in microwave, and cook for three minutes on 1000 watts (may be slightly less depending on you microwave).
Cake will rise over top of mug--do not be alarmed!
Allow to cool a little; tip onto a plate if desired.
Eat!
(This can serve two if you want to feel slightly more virtuous.)

Oh yes, that's right, molten chocolate cake can be yours for five minutes of effort.
Now I ask you, how can you not love a woman who shares this bit of yumminess with you?!?

The Zen Master

A conversation between Bo Hunkmeister and myself this morning:

Bo: "You look nice in that outfit."
Me: "Thanks, it's from M.E. [names changed to protect the innocent]."
Bo: "I didn't know you guys are the same size."
Me: "We are for the most part, except the pants she gave me are [sheepish grin] too small."
Bo: "She has shorter legs, that's why."

Do you see what the Zen Master has done here? He doesn't confirm my hinting at my big butt, but comes up with another perfectly plausible reason why the pants don't fit. Bo, darling, what ever mojo you got that helps you do this, I'm gonna bottle and sell!

Did You Hear Something?

We're at dinner tonight and Bo Hunkmeister decides to have a little fun with the kids. We had a packet of wasabe paste and he offered $1.00 to anyone who would take a taste. Princess Buttercup, the concrete sequential child, carefully assessed the parameters of the bet and declined. Princess Git Er Done on the other hand, being random, jumped right on the bet. She ingested the 16th of a teaspoon amount and immediately sputtered, "Ack! Suicide! I gotta learn to start listening to those little voices in my head that say, 'No, no, no, don't do it!!' "

This explains a lot about her....

Who's That Handsome Devil?

This is the man who, in thirty years time, would have to put up with the Domestic Goddess before Bo Hunkmeister came along. No wonder he had such a big smile on my wedding day. Anyway, Happy Birthday Dad!




p.s. I would have put a picture of my mom here on her birthday but then she would have never taken me to Kohl's again. Yes, I am that shallow.

Sinking a Little Bit Lower

I was watching a show last night when I saw a commercial for Axe Dark Temptation Body spray. It's a new body spray for men that smells like... chocolate. According to the ad, it's supposed to make women absolutely wild about you. According to the website (which I visited in the spirit of good journalism), all us gals need is the right scent to be turned into sex crazed maniacs. I just have a few questions for the makers of this spray:

1. Do you really think women are so shallow that all it takes to make us attracted to a guy is the whiff of chocolate? Did your momma not clue you in to what's important to a woman?
2. Does this come with a free sample of "Have Some Character" body wash?
3. Did "Does Not Fear Commitment" or "Respects You as A Woman" not work as a scent?
4. Is this mistakenly giving the guy permission to continue to act like a neaderthal as long as he has a bottle of this handy?
5. According to your website, this spray supposedly makes women between 18 (I hope) and 28 go crazy over you. Does it make women older than that laugh?
6. What happens when the girl you're interested in decides that she's happier to just get her own bottle rather than hang out with you?
7. When the scent fades, are we allowed to dope slap you for thinking so little of us?
8. Can you make a scent for women that smells like "Call Me When You Can Behave Like a Real Man?"
9. Am I being too snarky?

Our Multi-Cultural Family

For those of you not in the know, I am half Japanese (or "Hapa" for the truly hip). What does this mean? This means kids who have the following thought patterns:

"What's for dinner?" they ask.
"Chicken, rice, and broccoli" I say.
"Do we have nori?" they ask (not even considering the cuisine)
"Sorry, no." I say.
"What?!? Can we go to the bodega and get some?" they ask
"No, I highly doubt the Dominican owned store has Japanese products." I say
"Why not?" they ask.

Sigh......

Every Moment is a Teachable Moment

Boys....

Tonight I'm putting my boys to bed and, as usual, they ask for a bed time story. My eldest boy picks out Angelina Ballerina. Now I'm an open minded, progressive mom, so I'm not reading anything into this. Then as I'm getting the youngest into his jammies, my eldest says, "Hey Mom, look at all the cool ways Angelina can kill people with her ballet moves!"

Busy, Busy, Busy

After a long morning of trashing the Monopoly money and game pieces, up ending the Battleship box, dumping the dominoes out and whacking his sister on the head, Baby decides he needs a snack. Having only been absent a minute or two, I come back to the kitchen to find this



garlic bananas, anyone?

Did I mention it's only 10:00 am? Help? Please?

Lazy

Sorry I haven't been blogging recently. Gummi has been making it difficult. If I'm not sleeping, then I'm eating. If I'm not eating, then I'm sleeping. And if by some small chance I'm not eating or sleeping, then I'm wandering around the house looking for someone to rub my back. That's right, I've become....my cat. So in the mean time, I will leave you with this (I double dog dare you not to get weepy at how cherubic this child sounds).

That there Debi Pearl book, part II

My Dear R,

Your father has bought to my attention that my recent post about Debi Pearl has caused you some concern. So I am writing that I may put some of those concerns to rest and restore my status in your eyes as "Most Favored Auntie".

My ideas about "submission" have been rolling around my head for the past 17 years; being thought out, read about, discussed and re-thought out as I finish each year of marriage. So my idea of submission to my husband is not the typical one embraced by our society (meaning being a door mat). My ideas about submission are as follows:

First and foremost I believe God created man and woman on equal footing. It says so right in Genesis 1:27 "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." It doesn't say God created man and then man needed a lackey so God created a woman. However, to me, "equal" doesn't mean "same", it means "of equal value." If given the choice between living without my hand or my foot, that would be hard. They're different, performing different functions but I really couldn't say one is more valuable than the other, now could I? I want them both, and working together they can accomplish many things.

Now, while of same importance, I believe men and women have different functions and purposes. If the world thought/acted entirely like women, there would be lots of talking, but probably little decided. If the world thought/acted entirely like men, we'd probably have lots of activity, but we're not sure to what purpose. I think our society often thinks equal means same and therefore we women tend to think men think/act/feel like us. Let me tell you something sister, they don't! Women tend to value connection and relationships, men tend to value respect and honor. Women can connect emotions with an event more readily than men can. So one idea of submission means to respect your husband as the man he is. Don't try to treat him like he's another one of your girlfriends. Look to what he values and try to meet those needs.

My second idea regarding submission relates to the leader of a house. A lot of people say that their marriage is completely equal, everything that needs to get done for the family, all decisions made are done 50/50. If that works for other folks, that's fine. However, I think that, like a corporation, there needs to be one final person who says, "The buck stops here." (bonus points - which US president had that quote on their desk?) There needs to be that one spokes person for the family. Knowing my skill set, I think that position in my family is best filled by your uncle, Bo Hunkmeister. However, realize that any good leader worth his salt, before taking action, will seriously consider the wise counsel of his wife and trusted friends around him. And any leader worth his salt leads by example.

My third idea is that submission is only to your husband. So if some other guy thinks women should not have a job outside of the house, that's fine for him but you don't have to abide by that. Nowhere in the Bible does God call for women submitting to any other man's authority but their husband's. If you want a career, then go get one girl! But it is then incumbent (look the word up) upon you, dear R, with the wise input of your parents who know you and love you, to find the man who shares your values, who recognizes the talents God has given you and who desires to see you grow as a person. Now, if in a fit of romantic insanity, you marry some selfish knob who thinks women should stay at home barefoot and pregnant (and I am currently wearing shoes, so rest your worried mind), then you unfortunately will have a difficult time submitting to your husband as he will probably expect things of you that you will not agree with.

And God needs female leaders. Look up Esther, or Deborah, or Abigail, or Jael. Or your church's associate pastor, or Condoleeza Rice, or Beth Moore. But your career choice should be something you and your husband both can agree on. And just because you don't have a career outside of your house doesn't mean you're not doing something important either. 2 Timothy 1:5 says "I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also." So who influenced Timothy's faith the most? Grandma and Mom. And Billy Graham couldn't have done what he did without Ruth behind him. Charles and John Wesley would have been nothing without their mother's guidance.

So as you can see, I'm not advocating that you submit to your husband like some crazed Jonas Brothers groupie or a cult member. Just that a little respect for the husband in your life will go a long way towards having the happy marriage you want.

If you want the full sermon and teaching video, send Auntie a check for $29.95.

Love Always,
Auntie Domestic Goddess

This Is Why I Love Him...

We're at the blood center this evening so Bo Hunkmeister can do his quarterly donation and the nurses are making small talk. Noticing me and my width, which is at its greatest at the end of the day, one nurse asks the usual set of questions: When are you due? Do you know what you're having? How many kids do you have? And this last one is my favorite because of the response we get when we say this is our sixth baby. So we tell the nurse this is our sixth baby, her eyes pop, her jaw drops and without missing a beat, Bo says, "You might take my blood but you can't slow me down."

Ain't he the greatest?


by the way, did you know 35% of Americans are eligible to give blood but only 3% of them do so?

Go Read This. Now.

I just finished reading this at my breakfast table. I was crying by the end (ok, so being pregnant might have something to do with it).

This Was Amusing

I got this idea from Lori's blog (btw, lovely to meet you and your kiddies). Lori's was quite funny so I thought I give my name a try. The deal is you type your name followed by "needs" into the Google search box.

1. Dawn needs a guitarist - No thanks, dated one, so glad I married someone who doesn't play guitar.

2. Dawn needs a miracle - Already got one growing, but if I may be so bold as to ask for another in the form of four wheeled transportation?

3. Dawn needs a tripod - uhmm...

4. Dawn needs a reality check - bwahahahaha! My reality is fine. You should try it!

5. Dawn needs to fly - That would make getting errands done easier

6. Dawn needs to get over herself - Google, you sure know how to hurt a gal....

7. Dawn needs a big glass jar to grow her own "brain in the vat." - Ok, weird.

8. Dawn needs a history lesson - Ooo! Another book recommendation!

9. Dawn needs training - Hey! That's not fair! I'm house broken!

10. Dawn needs a latte - Well, that was not really on Google, but since we were talking about my needs....

You're next!

And the Fodder Continues...

This is from the Silly Question Department:
The other day my friend "Laverne" (names have been changed to protect the silly) relayed a conversation she had with a mutual acquaintance, "Shirley." Shirley had called Laverne and asked if we were expecting again. Laverne said yes. Then Shirley asked, "Are they happy about it?"

Now that question struck me as kind of odd. First of all, why wouldn't we be happy? I'm not an unmarried teenager. I've been married 17 years and have five kids. If I'm already travlin' the big family road, why would one more be an unpleasant event? Secondly, even if I were unhappy, would I tell you? What good would it do? What would you say in response?

I think questions like this come from a society that has so divorced sex from pregnancy, that we're utterly surprised when pregnancy happens without our foreknowledge. Here's a little secret I've learned. No matter what form of birth control you use, outside of a hysterectomy, any sexual intercourse has the possibility of pregnancy. Seriously. I've known couples that, even after the husband had a vasectomy, were buying a pregnancy test.

In all honesty, we will have to get a bigger car and that has kind of bummed me out a bit (if you'd like to make a donations, make your checks out to "A New Flamin' Van for the Domestic Goddess"). But, like what I once read in a Randy Alcorn book, one person's difficulties should not diminish the value of another person's life. Basically, this pregnancy should not be any less a joyful occasion than the first child, who didn't require a new car purchase. So the long answer to Shirley's question is, yes, I am happy to be receiving a blessing and it would be great if you could be happy along with me.

A New Name!

As I said in a previous post, we thought we'd call this baby TBA. However, on Friday I had an ultrasound and the technician said, "See that gummi bear there? That's the baby."



I went home and relayed this conversation to the Bo Hunkmeister and then said how tired I was. Bo responds, "Gummi Bear kickin' your butt, eh?" And voila! A new name! And it works so well! As in:

Gummi wants ice cream.
Gummi says I need to lie down
Gummi Bear is making me eat this
Obey the Gummi

Great, eh?