I’m an addict.

There I said it.

I, Jenn, am addicted to…. nail polish.

*sob*

I know.  It’s so shameful.

And not just the polish.  I love the decals and foils and stamps and gems and … well… you get the idea.

Think I’m kidding?

That’s not even all of it.  I still have a whole other box on top of that.

*sigh*

It’s my one weakness.  My one vice.  (well, that and chocolate, but I’m pretty sure I’d die without chocolate so it totally doesn’t count)

 I’ve always loved having my nails done.  It started with putting on polish with my mom.  By by early 20′s I was regular at the nail salon and committed to my acrylic and gel nails, which were more like claws.

Fun fact – I prefer to type with my nails rather than my fingers.  No idea why. 

Every couple of weeks I had a standing appointment with my nail tech for my fill and manicure.  Right up until Vista was born.

The day she was born, she was so tiny and scrawny I discovered that my fake nails got in the way of picking her up.  So I sat in my hospital room as she slept and slowly ripped them off, one by one.

That was the last time I had my nails oh so perfect.

Until I started playing around at home.

At first it was just a polish here, a drugstore decal there.  But then I discovered nail stamping.  And foils.  And nail art.  And did you know there are whole blogs dedicated to nails?  *swoon*

I know, if you ever doubted the fact that I’m crazy, there’s no doubt left now.

But, for me, this is a small and simple way, when you’re constrained on time, money, and energy to feel…well… pretty.

So here are my tips to pretty nails without the salon price:

1.) More expensive doesn’t always mean better.  I’ve used everything from Chanel to Essie to OPI to every drugstore brand under the sun.  Some of my favorite polish is the cheapest.  A lot of my current polishes are actually from Avon and I love them.

2) Don’t be afraid to try something new.  If you hate it, that’s why nail polish remover was invented.  And if need inspiration for new things to try, look at some nail blogs.  They’re filled with pictures and tutorials.

3) It doesn’t have to be perfect. This one took me a while to learn.  I wanted my nails to be absolutely perfect the first time.  Thankfully I finally grabbed a clue and realized that there are lots of ways to fix your polish mistakes.

• Got polish on the edges of your fingers?  Let it dry then dip a q-tip in nail polish remover and get rid of it.
• Smudged your nails?  This is a great time to pull out the nails stamps or decals.
• Touched your nail to see if it was dry and left a finger print?  Sometimes gently licking your nail will smooth it out (I know, gross… not one I usually try).  The other thing to do is another layer of top coat.  You would be amazed what a good top coat can smooth over and hide.

Last night when I was doing my nails I totally managed to smudge the top of three of them.  Go me.  So I did some nail stamping on top and voila!  You don’t even notice the smudges!

(just because a lot of people have been asking me about this stamp the past few times I’ve worn it
its from a new Konad plate #M85.  If you’re new to nail stamping, there are starter kits you can get).
And if anyone wants to buy me a present I have my eye on the new Konad M84 plate
and the new magnetic polishes *hint* *cough* Bil *hint* *cough*

4)If you don’t need the new nail polish / stamp plate / decals etc right away, order them online.  You would be amazed at the deals you can find (yes, even for Canadians).

But most of all… don’t forget to take the time for you!

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**Disclaimer** The lovely people at NailPolishCanada.com were kind enough to enable my addiction and provided me with a new Konad Nail Art plate to try out. They carry both of the new Konad plates, M84 and M85, as well as starter kits for those who just want to try it out.

The opinions, however, are all mine as usual (including the part where I think the fact they ship for free in Canada, which no company ever does, is freakin’ awesome). 

Just an additional mention about Konad plates…. these are great doing kids nails.  I’ve been using them for years to put little flowers or stars on V’s nails. By the time you transfer the stamp polish to your nails it’s dry, so kids won’t smudge it and a quick top coat seals it on so it lasts as long as your polish does. It’s also not raised like a decal, so if you like the look of decals but not the feel of them on your nails, this is a good option.

There are lots of babies being born which is great for me.  I get to hug and snuggle to my hearts content and then give them back when they start to stink.  :D

But as we watch our friends through their pregnancies, we sometimes struggle to understand.

Especially when it comes to the screening tests.

We’ve known several people who have gone through the Down’s ‘scare’, and had to have that discussion around whether to abort.

First off let me say I have nothing against abortion.  I believe every woman should have the right to control their reproduction.

Where I struggle is when the decision is made because they don’t want to bring a baby into this world who will have a ‘poor’ quality of life.

I want to scream at them “YOU DON’T KNOW!  A TEST ISN’T GOING TO TELL YOU THAT!”  *sob*

I’ve known children with Downs that is fairly mild and they are otherwise perfectly healthy.  The grow into wonderful people with a unique perspective on life and those of us who have had the pleasure of meeting them are so much richer for it.

Had we done those screens when I was pregnant with Vista, everything would have come back completely normal.  None of Vista’s issues would have shown up on those tests.  And yet we live a life filled with doctors and specialists and hospital visits and therapists and aides.

You don’t know.  You cannot predict if a child will be born healthy.  Of all the mom’s in my special needs group, exactly zero of them knew they were having a special needs child before they were born.

And had we known, ahead of time, about Vista’s brain malformation we still would have had her.

Yes, it’s sometimes hard having a special needs kid.  But?  There are the rewards.

I have learned a patience and understanding I never had before.

I have learned never to tell my child what she cannot do, because she will always prove me wrong. The only limits in her world are those placed on her by those who don’t understand that she is amazing and doesn’t know that she’s not supposed to be walking and talking, never mind running and reading.

I have learned not to judge people with disabilities.  They are people… with feelings.  And disabled does not mean mentally incompetent or unaware.  Quite frankly I’ve met more people with disabilities who have more capacity for caring and compassion than those so called ‘normal’ people in my life.

I’ve learned more about the medical world than I ever thought I would.  I don’t rush my child to the doctor for every sniffle like a lot of parents do.  We’ve learned to discern what’s a cold, what’s a flu, what’s croup, what’s asthma, and when medical care is really necessary.  A lot of parents could do with that training.

I have learned what it means to be a friend.  I’ll be the first one to admit that I used to be a complete flake.  Now, I forge friendships not a slew of passing acquaintances.   Want to know if you have real friends?  Face a medical emergency and see who’s still standing at the end.  I guarantee it won’t be the people you expect.

Having a special needs child has expanded our world in ways we never imagined.  I am so glad I didn’t throw away this opportunity to grow as a person when the universe handed it to me.

This is the long comment I saw.  And of course, I couldn’t help but respond, because, well… I’m me.  (click to see it full size)

Britta,
Caring and ‘getting it’ are two vastly different things.

You can SYMPATHIZE but you cannot EMPATHIZE if you have never been a special needs parent. And there is a deep and wide chasm between sympathy and empathy in the special needs world.

That would be like me telling a doctor that I care so I should be allowed to do surgeries. I guarantee that doctor would be taken aback and insulted.

See… the big difference between special needs parents and someone who hasn’t walked in our shoes is that we see our kids as normal. They are normal to us. They are our children and we live every day with their disability. That is OUR normal. When people come up and try to do the ‘I’m pretending I’m treating your kid like they’re normal’, it pisses us off. Because the first thing you noticed was not their smile or how much they love to laugh. It was that they can’t walk/talk/eat/fill-in-the-disability. So we slap on the fake smile until we can escape and shake our heads about the people who think they understand, but really don’t.

We don’t want pity for our children. We want our children to be accepted for exactly who and what they are; to be treated like any other child. Not to be marked by their challenges. Unfortunately, yes, we are a ways off, as a society, from being there.

And the old ‘God will never give you more than you can handle’ IS bullshit. Because there are days when we are totally overwhelmed with it all. After your child hasn’t slept for weeks, or months, or in many cases, YEARS, you wake up and think ‘I cannot do this today. I just can’t’. And you dream of normalcy. And you have yourself a good cry in the shower before you go on with your day. Because being a special needs parent isn’t easy.

I won’t lie. There are the good parts. I’ve met lots of wonderful people because my daughter is special needs. But those friendships are not like normal friendships. Dawn and I have spent the last month supporting one of our friends who’s daughter has been close to death in the hospital. Every day we are there to listen, to research, to offer advice, and just to be there while she cries. And then we go back to our lives and cry ourselves because that could be our child in the hospital and part of us is so glad it’s not. But we understand on a level that most people can’t. And that is why, in crisis, we turn to parents who have been through what we’ve been through. Parents who can speak in medical terminology and acronyms, for that is the secret language of special needs.

And being friends with special needs parents brings other challenges. If anyone has so much as a sniffle, playdates are cancelled. They’re also cancelled because their kids or mine are feeling too overwhelmed/tired/anxious/overloaded/overstimulated on that particular day. Parents of normal kids get frustrated when we cancel last minute because of these things. Special needs parents just say ‘Oh, no worries. I totally understand,’ and you know they do, because the next time it will be their turn to cancel.

Special needs kids are wonderful and unique and challenging. As much as I love my daughter, I would never wish a special needs child on anyone. Not because I think they are ‘less than’, but because there is so much that goes on day-to-day that cannot be shown on some TV show. I’m talking about the doctors appointments, meeting with therapists, documenting of medicines, organizing of supports, purchasing of special support equipment, dosing meds, special exercises and the list goes on and on. So much of our days are consumed living with special needs rather than living with a child.

Therapists don’t parent our children. They are not nannies. They give us the resources to help our children reach their milestones. But much of the actual work, still falls to us, the parents. Where you would sit and play with your child, we consider what developmental area we’d like to work on and pick toys or activities appropriate to that.

When you leave the house, what’s the first thing you pack? Diapers? Oh your child is potty trained? Yeah, my almost 5yr old isn’t. Special needs, you know. How about meds? Oh you don’t need to carry a med case? Ours goes everywhere with us. Inhalers, spacer, anticonvulsant, oral steroids, fever meds, allergy meds, pulse-ox, stethoscope, thermometer, and of course My Little Pony bandaids…can’t forget those for when her balance goes and she does a faceplant in the gravel. And then we have to make sure we’re home in time to give her the evening doses of meds (unless we make a special point to pack those and bring those with us). This is all part of normal life for us. Not the glamorized medical docu-drama you see on TV.

You seem to have romanticized being a special needs parent. For that reason I hope you never are, because your world would come crashing down. Being a special needs parent is being vomited on every day (sometimes several times a day) for years. Being a special need parent is wiping feces off walls from kids who should be old enough to know better. Being a special need parent is cleaning up tube feeds that have spilled the entire contents of the feed bag over the floor. That is being a special needs parent. It’s the furthest thing from glamorous.

Is it rewarding, though? Yes, in the way that parenting any child is rewarding. You celebrate the milestones and the successes. They just don’t always come where and when you expect them.

But when you come up to a special needs parent and tell them you would love to have a special needs child, don’t be surprised if the reaction is less than favorable.

Today, I republished it after it was brought to my attention that this person is back to her old patterns.  Same person, different name.

I kind of dread Christmas, in a way, for this reason.  It’s a holiday filled with generosity and giving.  It also a holiday filled with scammers, grifters, and con artists.

I’m not saying this person is any of those things.

I’m just asking you to do your due diligence before you donate.

If you really want to do good, there are lots of registered charities and organizations that would love your donations (your local food bank would be a huge one, this time of year).

But please be cautious of people who constantly ask for money on the internet.

I understand that desire to help, but it’s easy for people to create false identities and stories online to take advantage of people’s good nature.

The only reason I post this is to save my friends (who I know are all generous beyond belief) from being taken advantage of during the holidays.

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So here we go again…

First we have to set the story

Then comes the ‘ask’…

And when that doesn’t get anywhere, you simply (and subtly) tweet each child’s wishlist

The request for retweets about her plight

Annnnd…the inevitable discrepencies

So, the money at her job is pretty good, but she’s so broke she can’t afford gifts for her kids, but can afford a new kindle, buy books for her kindle,  and is saving her gift cards to buy the even newer model (rather then buying gifts for her children)…. To each their own, I guess.

Our parents weren’t perfect.  Just like we’re not perfect parents now.

And you know what?  That’s OK.

Because we’re only human (your parents too… hard to believe, I know).

Yesterday was one of those days.

As a special treat my friend M and I took our girls to McDonald’s for lunch and let them play in the playcenter.  This was V’s first time playing in those climbing structures that McDonald’s has for kids.  And it reminded me why I’ve never been overly eager to let her go play in one.

As soon as we walked in, we pegged her.  You know the type.  The bratty little kid who figures she owns the place and who’s mom is too busy being oblivious to notice.

We let the girls run off into the playcentre, as we sat muttering about how there’s always some little shit you have to keep your eye on at these places.

Sure enough.

Within a few minutes I hear V start crying hysterically up in the structure.

I coaxed her down and tried to get out of her what happened.

Now, V is prone to dramatics, so I tend to take it with a grain of salt.  But she was really upset.  She finally managed to get out that someone had pinched her.  I looked and there were two red angry welts on her chest where someone had pinched her HARD several times.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRR….

But before I could do anything, M’s daughter started screaming and crying in the structure too.  This is a kid that’s tough as nails and not the crying type so we knew something was really wrong.

Moments later she emerged out of the playcenter with two bloody scratches down the entire length of her cheekbone.

W. T. F?!?!

Now?  We were really pissed.

Three guesses on who was the culprit in both these attacks (and the first two don’t count).

Yup.  Brat extraordinaire that we marked as soon as we walked in.

Brat’s mom finally took notice as the girls pointed out who had attacked them and, too her credit, made her child come apologize to our girls.

Now… If that was my kid?  I would have be horrified.  Absolutely horrified.  I would have been falling over myself to apologize to the kids and their parents.  And that would have been the end of play time.  I would have hauled her out of there and back home so fast it would have made her head spin.

This mom?  Made the kid sit out for a few minutes, then she was back playing.

There were no real consequences for this kid acting like a brat.  Is it any wonder she’s like that?  She’s allowed to be!

Children need definite, unquestionable, consequences when they’re acting like monsters.  Not a gentle reprimand.  The only thing that teaches them is that they can be a monster because nothing’s really going to happen.

Quite franky, I feel sorry for that mother.  Her kid is going to grow up to be an out-of-control teenager because no boundaries have been set now.

I may come off as a strict mom, but at least my daughter has manners and is very clear that if she wants to act like a brat, she’s going to have to accept the consequences.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’ll let you in on a well known secret.  I’m a GenX’er.  Yeah, that generation that are turning into your parents? That’s me.

And I’m at that age now where young people irritate me.

I’m not talking little kids (well, some of them irritate me too, but that has more to do with the way their parents are raising them than the actual kids).

I’m talking that select group of GenY’ers who are over-entitled brats.

You know… the ones who give all people in their 20′s a bad name.  The ones who expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter.  They want everything in life and they want it now and they want YOU to give it to them.

People like that make me want to reach out and hug someone…so tight their head pops off.

I was having this conversation with a friend, yesterday.  We both have younger brothers who are the worst of the worst GenY’ers.  So maybe that’s why we tend to be more sensitive to this.  We’ve been living it for years.  Watching our siblings with their hand out, expecting other people to take care of them, while we did it the hard way – on our own, like adults.

And what really baffles me about these people is they don’t even understand why they shouldn’t expect everything to be given to them.  You can try to explain to them for hours, but they will never get it.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you know where I’m going with this.

Yesterday I called someone out very publicly on this very thing.

I was told I was a heartless bitch for doing it. Because someone is in NEEEEEEEED and how can we not give and support that poooooor pooooor poooooooooooor girl.

While I can’t disagree with the heartless bitch part, it has nothing to do with why I said what I said to this person.

This is not the first or second or even third time this person has asked for money.  By my count (and these are only the instances I know about) it’s the fourth.

She always has some good reason why she’s in crisis and needs money now.

But the fact is, this happens every couple of months.

And each time, heart strings are pulled and people send her money wanting to help.

Because rather than doing something about her situation, she would rather stick out her hand and ask other people to give her their hard earned money.

And when I pointed this out to her, last night, her response was:  ” But it’s always when I really need it. …because I’m poor. I just feel that there may be some good hearted people out there. ”

So… here we are.  The “I need it, you should give it to me” mentality.

And when I asked why her situation was always everyone else’s problem I got the response “That’s just what websites like wuah* are for”  (*wuah is the Wish Upon a Hero site).

*head explodes*

So you take all this, add the numerous discrepancies** (see below) in her stories, and the fact that she has publicly admitted that she was a drug addict… and I’m heartless for not sending her money?  No.  No I’m not.

I would much rather give my money to to people and organizations who are going to use the money to change lives (theirs or others).

I would much rather give people a hand up, instead of repeatedly pandering to people who want a handout.

I really feel it’s situations like this that jade people and make it difficult for legitimate organizations, who could do such good work, to fundraise anymore.

And that?  Breaks my cold unfeeling heart.

——————————————

**Some of the discrepancies I’m referencing:

1. When she requested money in early May, she was questioned about a previous WUAH request for money that was on the site and said her son was going to have open heart surgery.  Her response *she is mama2boys2011* (all comments on this WUAH page have since been deleted, but a cached version can be found here):
   When asked about this on Twitter though, this was the response:
   
   
2.  She says in the WUAH video in the latest request that they gave their 30 day notice on their apartment after putting a deposit on a house.  But on twitter she says this:
   
3. Single mom?
   or
   
   
   ** Travis is her fiance or boyfriend
4. Drugs?
   or
   
5. And then there’s this.
   

**UPDATED:  AtomicMommy is now theboysmama on twitter.  So if you see her asking for money / donations / gifts (as she does on a regular basis) please do your research and consider carefully **

It wasn’t that I found church boring.  I actually quite enjoyed the singing and stories.  Where I ran into issues was the fact I was a child who had too many questions, and couldn’t accept “because God says so” as an answer.  I quickly discovered that people didn’t like when I pointed out contradictions in the bible.  Adults don’t want their beliefs questioned by a little girl in a Sunday School dress.

The truth is, I still have no use for organized religion.  I think it works for some people… I’m just not one of them.

I’ll wait while half of you unfollow my sinning ass, now.

*********************

These days I have no problem listening to people talk about their religious convictions.  I find it often tells me a lot about the way they view the world.

I welcome respectful theological discussions.  I enjoy hearing about the latest going ons with my friends who are converting to Catholicism.

I don’t have to believe what you believe to respect that you have those beliefs.

What does make me cringe, though, are the ‘Praise the Lord!!’ type kids shows.  I’m talking squirming in my seat uncomfortable.  Like I have to leave the room uncomfortable.

I was in that position today when Vista insisted on watching “From Aardvark to Zucchini: Alphabet of Prayers” on Netflix.

She’s been on a Veggie Tale kick lately.  And those I can handle.  They’re a little more subtle in their teachings.

This show, though is a shove-it-down-your-throat-praise-Jesus-and-God-created-the-world-and-you-better-be-thankful-for-it type show.

*groan*

I tried to gently suggest other shows for her.  I offered to put on a movie.  But nope, she wanted the aardvark show.

I debated refusing to put it on, but then realized if I did that I would be doing to her what my parents did to me.

By refusing to allow her to watch this, I would be forcing my own beliefs on her.

I want her to grow up learning to question rather than just accept anything she’s handed as fact.

And that means allowing her to question our beliefs and choose her own, whatever they may be.

That doesn’t mean I can’t temper what she’s learning with alternative views, though.

Now who knows if they make a kids show that teache Buddhism?

I watched the scrolling updates from media and emergency services in the town, silently hoping that somehow they’d be able to contain this massive fire burning out of control.

And then I started seeing a different sort of tweet…

Watching HLN & a town that is on fire in Alberta Canada is called Slave Lake? Slave Lake! Um after they rebuild they should review the name!

May 17, 2011 4:50 am via ÜberSocialReplyRetweetFavorite

@cnfergie

Charisse F.

Now that Slave Lake has burnt down maybe they will change that awful name. I suggest 'My Race is Equal But Not Superior to Yours Lake'

May 16, 2011 7:14 pm via webReplyRetweetFavorite

@massivhedwound

Obama Bon Jovi

That's what those people get naming their town Slave Lake It's probably where they used to drown the slaves. #JustDealWithIt

May 16, 2011 7:00 am via Twitter for AndroidReplyRetweetFavorite

@Mo_Badder_ThanU

§hãïñå•¥vęťţě .

There is a town on fire called "slave lake" ....hmmm karma?

May 15, 2011 11:04 pm via SocialScopeReplyRetweetFavorite

@_Weaverette_

Jennifer Weaver

and of course this classic…

as a descendant of slaves my heart fills with glee at hearing a whole town named Slave Lake is burning down.

May 15, 2011 11:41 pm via webReplyRetweetFavorite

@soolebop

soolebop

Yeah, that sound was my head exploding.

Seriously people?

An entire town burns to the ground and the only thing you can think of is how your great-great-great grandfather was wronged by someone, once upon a time?  Really?

Never mind the fact that Slave Lake has nothing to do with slavery.  It’s named after a northern Alberta Indian tribe: the Slavely Indians.

*sigh*

This sort of ignorance create a self perpetuating circle of hate.  Not to mention it does nothing for your cause.

It would be like me hating Russians because the Bolsheviks obliterated my grandfather’s family 100 years ago.   Hating someone for a decision their great-great-grandfather made.  Ridiculous, right?

Yet, that’s the social crutch these people use.

And so to them I say:

Don’t try to mask your anger and hate as political correctness.  It just further highlights your ignorance.

Me?

Not so much.

For 2011 I just want to watch more porn and convince my doctor to give me a prescription for Xanax. (I know, you’re shocked I don’t already have one).

The reason for the Xanax (other than to deal with the demon spawn also know as my daughter) is because nothing stresses me out more than the thought of having to set goals for myself. We’re talking full blown hyperventilation.

When I used to be a corporate schmuck, I worked for a company that was all about goal setting. Every year you’d have to lay out, in glorious gory details, all the things you were going to achieve that year. And once your name was signed to it, your whole bonus depended on some bullshit you dreamed up 11 months ago, before the intervening 10 months bitch slapped you into the ground.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I never missed out on a bonus. No. I was a good enough spin doctor that I could make the numbers say whatever I needed them to (which is probably why, these days, I regard 98% of statistics with a healthy dose of skepticism).

So, even though I walked away with my nice little ‘thanks for actually doing your job’ cheque, those goals were the bane of my existence.

I don’t like the idea of living a whole year to one arbitrarily set standard.

Our lives are dynamic, so I’ve never understood the need to hold ourselves to something so static.

And when the end of the year comes, I watch people sit there and beat themselves up over not meeting these random (and in the grand scheme of things, semi-meaningless) goals.

“Oh Em Gee.  I wanted to loose 19.3 lbs and I only lost 18.7 lbs.  I am such a gigantic failure at life”.

Really?  You’re going to base the success of a whole year on what a scale says? *cringe*

Why not look at all the things you accomplished this year?  Did you finally get around to reading that book?  Did you take that course you’ve been promising yourself for 3 years you were going to get around to taking?  Did you simply take the time to sit and play with your kids?  All those are accomplishments worthy of recognition.

So tell me…

What amazing things did YOU accomplish this year?