Update from Hippy Headquartershahahha I crack myself up.
I started my day with a lovely glass of water. I added one drop of each of these flower essences of Gruss an Aachen (stability), Peace (which is actually for courage), and Mr. Lincoln (balances and stabilizes the cerebrospinal fluid). Then I told my water Thank You. Yes this is my new ritual and it makes me happy. I am totally not kidding the water really does taste better.
I was reading a book last night and it started with a section of Dwight Eisenhower's 1953 Iron Cross Speech.

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.
This world in arms is not spending the money alone.
It is spending the sweat of laborers, the genius of its scientists, and the hopes of its children.
The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than thirty cities
We pay for a single fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat.
We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than eight thousand people.
This, I repeat, is the best way of life to be found on the road the world is taking.
This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron.
I know he had other issues. But those were some pretty snappy words.
Last week me and my oldest son were at a stop light. We noticed a young man in maybe in his early 20's with a sign. The sign read HUNGRY, HUNGRY, HOBO. We both stared at this young man and with his punk rock appearance, all his piercings and his very young face. He didn't look hungry. He actually looked like an elf or a fairy of something like that to me. So I looked at my son and said "Did you notice that HOBO looks kind of like a fairy?" My son just started busting up and said "MOM, he's hungry!"
I spend so much time trying to say the right things to my kids, and although they think I am a total nut, sometimes I just say the wrong things.
Like this morning. My 8 year old son is writing a book about rock and rock guitar. He has included Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, Jerry Garcia, Kiss, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, AC/DC, Van Halen, Gun's and Rose's. I told him when he was done we could have it self-published. He has been so excited. So this morning when I told him we would have to retype it all and send it to the publisher he was just crushed. I didn't mean to crush him, but I did. He thought I would mail his book and have it published. So I tried to explain. He broke into tears. I told him we can scan it and send it to them. He was all upset and said never mind I don't want it published, you're a meanie.
Damn. I suck. Well that's how it goes in parenting.
Other than that I am feeling great. The expansion process is going smoothly. My aches and pains are gone for the day. I'm off to conquer the world. Well off to conquer my mini world anyhow.
Sending you all buttercups and roses.
I started my day with a lovely glass of water. I added one drop of each of these flower essences of Gruss an Aachen (stability), Peace (which is actually for courage), and Mr. Lincoln (balances and stabilizes the cerebrospinal fluid). Then I told my water Thank You. Yes this is my new ritual and it makes me happy. I am totally not kidding the water really does taste better.
I was reading a book last night and it started with a section of Dwight Eisenhower's 1953 Iron Cross Speech.

Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.
This world in arms is not spending the money alone.
It is spending the sweat of laborers, the genius of its scientists, and the hopes of its children.
The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than thirty cities
We pay for a single fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat.
We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than eight thousand people.
This, I repeat, is the best way of life to be found on the road the world is taking.
This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron.
I know he had other issues. But those were some pretty snappy words.
Last week me and my oldest son were at a stop light. We noticed a young man in maybe in his early 20's with a sign. The sign read HUNGRY, HUNGRY, HOBO. We both stared at this young man and with his punk rock appearance, all his piercings and his very young face. He didn't look hungry. He actually looked like an elf or a fairy of something like that to me. So I looked at my son and said "Did you notice that HOBO looks kind of like a fairy?" My son just started busting up and said "MOM, he's hungry!"
I spend so much time trying to say the right things to my kids, and although they think I am a total nut, sometimes I just say the wrong things.
Like this morning. My 8 year old son is writing a book about rock and rock guitar. He has included Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, Jerry Garcia, Kiss, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, AC/DC, Van Halen, Gun's and Rose's. I told him when he was done we could have it self-published. He has been so excited. So this morning when I told him we would have to retype it all and send it to the publisher he was just crushed. I didn't mean to crush him, but I did. He thought I would mail his book and have it published. So I tried to explain. He broke into tears. I told him we can scan it and send it to them. He was all upset and said never mind I don't want it published, you're a meanie.
Damn. I suck. Well that's how it goes in parenting.
Other than that I am feeling great. The expansion process is going smoothly. My aches and pains are gone for the day. I'm off to conquer the world. Well off to conquer my mini world anyhow.
Sending you all buttercups and roses.

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Isn't it strange the way we forget as grownups how things sound to the little guys? I find that kind of stuff happening all the time and my son's only 2 1/2!