Saturday, December 31, 2011

Everybody Does It Why Wouldn't I?

Here it is.  It is the last day of the year, and it is time to reflect.  After reading an article a friend forwarded to me recently, find it here, I am ready to make some resolutions/commitments and post them for myself and the world to see.  AND check in on my progress periodically.

1. Eat right. I know, this is usually #1 on most resolution lists, but since mid October and the birthday/Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas sugar fest that has gone into my pie-hole, I need to call it quits on sugar (at least until Valentines!) and go back to my old ways of watching what I eat.  Good bye sugar!  Your headaches will plague, your cravings will consume, but I will defeat you. Again.  Crap!  It is 3 p.m. on NYE, I have a ton of Christmas candy to get through before tomorrow!

2.  Exercise 6 days a week.  Never doing the same exercise two days in a row.  I had been exercising 5-6 days a week, until my visit to my parents.  Add in the stress eating (see resolution #1) and lack of exercise around the Seattle trip, and the scale is telling me I need to get back on the program.  That, and my routines are too routine.  If I am into walking, that is ALL I DO.  I need to change things up and change my routines.

3. Be less of a control freak.  My mother showed me just what a control freak is these last few weeks.  I have decided that it is ok for my kids to figure things out on their own.  I will still be available to ask questions of, but I need to let my kids try things and applaud them for their efforts.  They could come up with a new way of doing things I'd never thought of.

4. Take a photograph a day.  I always see this proposition, and now I need to do this!  To post or not to post is the question.

5. Make an effort to do new things creatively every week.  I love to sew.  I love to do lots of "crafty things" but need to make creativity a priority.

6. Go back to school.  I would like to go back to school and have toyed with the idea for years.  This year?  This is the year. 

7.  Do things for myself.  This is the year of my independence.  I am spending too much time looking to others for my happiness.  I need to find my own happiness.

8. Tuck my kids in bed.  You ask Hannah how her day was at 4 p.m. and her standard answer is "fine."  But, if you go into her room as she is snuggling in bed and spend a few minutes asking questions?  She will monologue and open up to tell you things you never thought of asking about.  Her answers increase in word numbers as the day progresses, I would like to be the last one to hear her answers each night.

9. Read. I hadn't consumed a book in months before going on this vacation and being forced to sit on a plane and read.  I need to turn off the tv and read.

10.  Grow spiritually.  Prayer.  Study.  Reflection.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Looking Forward

Looking forward to this afternoon at my sister's.  The clock is moving V...E...R...Y slowly. 

It doesn't help that my Mother has...walked in on Bubba getting dressed and obliviously sat down and started talking about something silly...riffled through all my stuff trying to find a bag of socks she misplaced...told me how to assemble a plate of cookies...told me to wrap said plate so the cookies didn't get dirty.


Merry Christmas everyone!

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Grandma Throws A Fit

Yes, we are surviving my parents visit.  We are still here.  I have learned a few things about my Mother that baffle me.

First, I thought my Mother was criticizing everything I did, or thought I was a 42 year old idiot, or going insane and talking to herself, but yesterday I had an epiphany.  My Mother narrates EVERYTHING she does.  We were making cookies and my Mother was walking around the kitchen describing every move she made.  "I'm going to take the butter out, the butter is in the fridge, I buy the butter at Costco in 5 pound packages, and if we don't use it all I'll put what we don't use in the freezer and use it later when I need it."  

Second, the weight of the world rests on my Mother's shoulders.  My sister and I had a date to make cookies for Mom yesterday, you know, so Mom didn't have to spend hours in the kitchen baking.  Our Mother woke up early and turned on the oven so it was 8 MILLION degrees in her already hot house, and began a frenzied baking spree.  She had made two different kinds of cookies before my sister even arrived at 9ish.  Then, Mom proceeded to keep coming into the kitchen and wouldn't sit down.

Third, my Mother falls apart if things don't go right.  After baking all morning, we were going to put a ham in the oven and have a nice, easy dinner with the family.  Scallop potatoes, ham, corn, a salad.  Something holiday-esque and something really easy.  Laura (my sister) and I asked Mom a million times how we could make things even easier, or pre-make the potatoes, but she refused. Fast forward to sitting down for dinner and Mom bursts into tears and freaks out that the ham isn't warm enough, potatoes are runny...the whole dinner is ruined and she shouldn't be allowed to cook.  During the sobbing I turned to my brother-in-law and whispered "Dinner and a show."  We both giggled hysterically.

At one point in the day yesterday my daughter looked at me and said, "Mom, if you act like this when you get old (yeah, I'm not old!), we are going to have a problem."

Friday, December 23, 2011

How To Survive, or Parent Speak 101

I survived my first full day of my visit with the parents.  We (Hannah, Bubba and myself) have been at my parents house for 34 hours, not that I am counting, and the only reason I am surviving is visits and activities with my sister and her family.

Today, we woke at 6:30, because of the time change, and proceeded to do absolutely nothing until 11:30 when I took my Mom out to run errands.  Errands, was actually errand and Mom's entire exaggeration of we have so much to do today actually meant we needed to run to the grocery store for 20 minutes to get 13 things.  

With all our errands accomplished we were able to go to my sisters and take the kids ice skating outside in downtown Tacoma, shop at the University Bookstore and go to Happy Cupcake for after dinner treats.  Woot!

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Missing Squirrel

I was downstairs in my sewing area, as I have been sewing a ton of Christmas items lately, and I decided to be kind to the animals and let the squirrels out.  I figure, as long as I am downstairs what's the harm?

Can I tell you that it is a little alarming to be sewing and suddenly have something crawl up your pant leg?  For some reason, Pepper loves to climb up and see what I am working on.

Anyway, I had been sewing for a hour or so and decided that I was cold and done with what I was working on, so it was time to wrangle the beasts.  In the past we have put the gliders dinner in their cage and they have come bounding out of where they have been playing like any other crazy house pet.  We rang the dinner bell.  No Pepper.  I put the cup of fruit and cottage cheese in the cage, Chili, the shy silent type appears from his hibernation pouch and starts chowing down.  No Pepper.

I turn on all the basement lights and rattle some of the shelving.  No Pepper.  I throw up my hands and call Hannah downstairs, since they are her pets and the least she can do is help wrangle Pepper since I played with them and fed them.  Hannah tries.  No Pepper.

I am getting tired, and colder, and finally tell Hannah I am going upstairs to bed and she can deal with the animals.  I'm done.  Put the missing squirrel posters up in the morning, I'm tired.  Hannah begs me to stay a few more minutes and help.  We try everything.  Food.  Pine nuts.  Shelving rattling.  Lights on in the crawl spaces.  I am starting to freak out.  I am thinking Pepper has gotten outside some how and she is a gonner.

Then, Hannah has the brilliant idea that we should let the dog downstairs.  Chloe will sniff the squirrel out.  Chloe is let downstairs and immediately goes over to the cage and starts harassing Chili.  Not what we wanted.  We wrangle Chloe away from the cage and she heads straight for the shelving and starts sniffing up a storm near the far shelf.

Pepper.  Not only is Pepper there, but she has somehow managed to get herself trapped in a clear plastic bin of Hannah's junk.  The poor thing.  If we had gone to bed, she would have been trapped there all night.

Pepper was freed.  Chloe was rewarded.  Everyone is going to bed.  

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Dear Drunken Parents,

Dear Drunken Parents,

Thank you so much for demonstrating how trashy and ignorant you are, you have now left me no doubts as to your parenting skills.  

Let me set the stage...Buffalo Wild Wings, 4 p.m., Saturday, Army Navy football game on the big screens (didn't have a clue because we don't follow football)...and scene:

Step one:  Sit at your table and drink beer after beer and talk amongst yourselves.  CHECK

Step two:  Bring your children and let them run (not walk) laps around the restaurant.  CHECK

Step three: Give your children endless supplies of dollar bills (do you work at Chippendales?) so they can SIT ON THE TABLES and plug said dollar bills into video games.  CHECK

Step four: Don't monitor your under 5 year olds and let them run into the bar area and use the public restroom on their own.  CHECK

Step five: Give your children lots of sugar and no actual meal so they are super whiney and run laps around the restaurant (did I mention that already?) CHECK

I completely understand that I need to be aware of my environment and take the good with the bad as far as people and dining experiences...but...yes, are morons.  After your 4 year old had lapped our table for the 21st time I, a Kindergarten teacher no less, asked my family straight faced if I could stick my foot out of our booth and trip the wild running girl.  I could pretend it was an accident, like  was getting up to use the bathroom or something.

People!  Train your children.  YOU are the parent.  Use babysitters.  Enjoy yourselves without costing others.  Who, pre tell drove home?

Sober kisses,


Sunday, December 4, 2011

Dear Pharma,

Dear Pharma,

Thank you so much for "making me well" while "making me crazy."  I appreciate the fact that physicians are guessing when it comes to diagnosis and a 3 week, head splitting, tennis ball green snot blowing, infection.  But YOUR DRUGS ARE MAKING ME CRAZY.  

Why do you call it a Z-pack anyway?  Z for...zany?  Your z-pack has done nothing for me except nullify all my other medications.  My thyroid?  Totally inactive.  I now sleep all day.  And when I am awake?  My hormones are zoinkers.  I could have thrown my t.v. out the window today while playing an innocent game of wii Billards.  I finally just threw the wii-mote across the room, stormed upstairs and lay in my bed crying.  Over a wii game.  Psycho.  

Thank you, too, for turning the lymph nodes in my neck into hot coals.  Between the mood alterations, lack of head pounding relief, and sleep, I am a freaking mess.  A mess!

Hugs and sleepy kisses,


Monday, November 28, 2011

Dear Lady,

Dear Lady,

Thank you so much for your kind offering of toilet paper, but I don't know you and where your hand has been.  You, my new friend from Kentucky, are very sweet, but since we don't know each other you would never know that (shhhh), I  am a germaphobe, and unless I am related to someone, I wouldn't have a conversation with anyone seated next to me in the adjacent bathroom stall.  It's just me.  Call me crazy.  And, no, I'm not planning on running for Congress, or visiting the Minneapolis airport in the near future.  I just have a problem with germs.

Thank you, too, lady from Kentucky, for your pleasant "in line waiting"conversation in the very small bathroom in the Chick-fil-A.  I could tell that you "seemed" normal with your "MONTANA!" sweatshirt, and your concern for your college aged daughter, but, still, I would rather not use toilet paper than accept a pass from under a dirty stall wall.

Lady, you are well intentioned.  It's just me.  I have issues.  I'm still trying to get the image of your hand coming at me from under the wall, out of my head.  

Hugs and Chicken-y kisses,


Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Dear Pintrest,

Dear Pintrest,

Thank you for creating a new monster.  Thank you for creating another site that sucks what little free time I cling to dry, and leaves me wondering what the hell I have done with the last hour of my life.  I was hoping for that!

Thank you, too, Pintrest, for not only offering the visual stimuli, but dangling things like "Ribs in the Crockpot!" (which WERE the best ribs ever, BTW) and "Easy Delicious Pretzel Bites" in front of my empty stomach.  They WERE easy.  They WERE delicious in all their buttery goodness.  So now I'm lazy AND fat!  A wintery win-win!

Not only have you made me lazy and fat, you have created a stalker, I mean "Intense Researcher."  Why do I need to know that Vicky S. has 15,000 pins?  Who cares if Sara H. was pinning at 5:30 this morning?  Stop taunting me Pintrest, just stop!

The thing about you, Pintrest, is that you allow me to "pin" stuff to my board and you don't judge me when I never complete a project. But I've decide that I need to change my collecting status to a doing status, and make those recipes!  Sew those projects!  Arrange that furniture!  Wear the combination of clothes like that woman put on her story board.  This weekend I actually made 3 of your recipes and completed, YES COMPLETED, two of your projects.  And I am looking forward to your "Easy Crockpot French Dip" and others.

Hugs and butter drenched kisses,


Thursday, November 10, 2011

If Only I Were THIS Creative 10 Years Ago

I am not a HUGE Star Wars fan, but I do remember seeing the movie in the theater in 1977.  It's not all about the movie, it is the fact that this child's nursery is SO FREAKING CREATIVE, and yet it is all store bought "stuff."  Take a peek here...

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Dear PBS,

Dear PBS,

Thank you (in all seriousness) for your contribution to my base knowledge.  I can have an intelligent conversation with a recently turned 5 year old about Chinese culture all because of your excellent programming.

Yesterday, I was engaging my new student in conversation and I was able to talk about Chinese culture all because of your cartoon "Sagwa."  Do you remember the cartoon about the Chinese cat that did calligraphy?  It was really popular when Hannah was young...around 2000?  2001?   Well my student was describing her meal from the previous night...squid...and all the other kids were staring at her in horror.  I jumped in and asked this student about Moon Cakes.  All because of my Sagwa knowledge.

This student lit up and said she had moon cakes before when her father had brought them back from China.  I asked what message was smuggled inside (espionage style) and she laughed because I KNEW the moon cake history.  All because of this damn cartoon I must have watched a BILLION times with Hannah.

Then we also discussed Chinese calligraphy, which I remember and can write a few words in, ALL BECAUSE of your cartoon!  My student was very impressed.  

So thank you PBS, for teaching me Chinese 101.  I can keep impressing the 5 year olds!

Sticky hugs and kisses,


Monday, October 31, 2011

The Big Reveal

Yesterday Hannah decided she wanted to dress up.
A quick trip to the fabric store and $3.14 worth of felt later...
she is a sashimi.
The cast is the wasabi!

Here is the big reveal on Bubba's toilet costume.
He was a HUGE hit,
and brought home 6.4 pounds of candy from our little neighborhood.
He was photographed 14 times and 
even asked for his autograph.
Some of the neighbors are saying he has the best
costumes year after year.
Maybe I could pawn myself out as a costume designer?

Friday, October 28, 2011

Dear Next Door Neighbors,

Dear Next Door Neighbors,

Thank you so much for single handedly supporting the economy with your Halloween spending and DP and L usage.  I, too, had to support the economy and buy black out curtains for my windows so I could sleep.

Let me guess.  Your favorite movie is Christmas Vacation.  Because I think I may write National Lampoon and tell them to sue you for copyright infringement (whatever that is), because Halloween Vacation?  That is what your yard looks like.  But unlike the happy go lucky Santa characters, and smiling reindeer, you chose to put out your full size cocooned body hanging upside down from a tree.  Sure, there are smiling witches, hundreds of pumpkins, and Casper-ish ghosts, but the bodies hanging from trees always make me cross to the other side of the street during my pre-dawn dog walking.

The beacon illuminating the witch to make a pretty shadow on the side of your house?  Shines into my house illuminating the entire top floor.

I love how you had the forethought to think about taking weird odds and ends, with no obvious theme, saving them for years in big boxes, and then dumping those boxes of crap on your front lawn.  It is now suddenly clear to me why you have a STUFFED FULL three car garage AND a barn on your property. I think after I write National Lampoon, I may call Hoarders and out you.

Hugs and spooky kisses,


Sunday, October 23, 2011

Dear Eyes Part Two,

Dear Eyes,

I know that you are feeling left out in the bling department, after all my teeth have had some recent bling, my butt has had some new pants, my feet new shoes, and my hair a new cut...but new glasses?  Come on!

Really?  We can't get by with reading glasses from CVS?  You have to go all "two different PROGRESSIVE lenses" on me?  Seriously?  I know that I am 42 now, but progressives?  That is just a nice way to say bifocals (like reader Eileen said).  

First my hair decides to go all grey, then my hips decide that exercising is so passe', now YOU, eyes, are requesting progressive lenses?  Do I have any dignity left?

Then...I start looking at frames, that I have to wear EVERYDAY, and everything is all bedazzled.  What on earth would indicate that a 40-something year old woman would want rhinestones on the sides of her glasses?  What in the hell says Hannah Montana like bedazzled hearts?  Butterflies?  Then there are the cheetah prints, Coach logos (no thank you), and gold lame'd circles.  Seriously?

Of coarse the non-bedazzled ones are the "Vera Wang" glasses and the $400 danish something or others.

And how am I supposed to make a choice like this when my eyes are dilated?  It is a racket, I tell you a racket!  So for now, no glasses.

Blurry kisses,


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Thumbs Up

My eldest got her first cast today.

It seems that soccer is a little dirtier when you play in high school.
This season?  
Two head injuries. One concussion.  One bruised cheekbone.
One goose egg on her shin.  One knee injury.
Various bruises and cuts.
And one Salter fracture.

Thumbs up!

Her exact words upon arriving home?
"In hindsight I think lime green may have been a poor choice."
Brains AND brawn.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

A Strange Thing...

I am nuts about costumes.  Nuts!  I love making costumes, and "things" and the bigger the challenge, the better.

Every year around Bubba's birthday we start discussing Halloween costumes.  I am a "make it" costume gal, and the thought of running to Target to buy the last ghoul mask on the shelf the day of, makes me ill.  I hate hum drum costumes.  I H*A*T*E ghoul stuff.

So, this year?  Bubba decided he wanted to be a toilet.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  A toilet.

Of coarse the natural joke was that he was the toilet, and his sister? The "turd."   But alas, Hannah is no longer in the costume trick or treating game.  Entrance to High School grants you a "No trick or treating" pass in my book.  You are welcome to dress up, but you are not going around taking candy from babies, as it were.

So...our process began with a trip to Sam's Club where I riffled thru the box bin and came up with the "tank."  A bowl, paper mache'd into "the bowl" and a piece of poster board paper into the pedestal, and this is what we have so far...

We are still tweeking it, and the lid and rim have to be constructed and mache'd, but we are right on track for the 31st.

Today we bought the handle (from Home Depot).  We also decided today that we couldn't extend the pedestal back any further (like a real toilet) because of Bubba's legs.

The idea is that we will construct the rim and lid this week, around soccer and homework, and fasten those so we can spray it white this weekend.  Bubba is installing a fishing line to pull the seat up when he says trick or treat so the candy can be deposited into the bowl.  But he is VERY worried the bowl is too small.

This project has been fun, and Bubba even made his way into big boy tools with the jigsaw when he cut the toilet bowl rim from a piece of plywood.  I wish I had a picture of his first wood working!

Monday, October 10, 2011

Dear Eyes,

Dear Eyes,

Thank you so much for forty two years of service.  Why are you failing me now?  First there was the reading glasses purchased at the airport last year, to help me get by and read the fine print.  Now it's the fact that I can't see for crap when my son holds something up for me to gaze upon, unless it is 5 feet or more from my face.  I can't read labels.  I can't read the newspaper, only the ads.

Your contribution to my well being is weakening.  After trying to thread the needle on my sewing machine today I gave up and came upstairs and made myself an appointment.  An eye appointment.  Gasp.  I am voluntarily going to the doctor IT'S THAT BAD.  After all these years of protecting you and feeding you carrots, this is what I get.

Blurry kisses,


Sunday, October 2, 2011

Mommy Throws A Fit Part Deux

There is more.  After my first fit?  It got worse.

We waited all night for a text.  ALL night.  Hannah never texted us to tell us when she needed a ride.  Our texts were never answered.

Long about 10:30 I was pissed.  Unbelievably pissed.  The dance had been over since 10.  We had waited for a text to tell us what part of the evening we would be driving.  After texting the 5th unanswered text, I texted Hannah's BFF (also at the dance) and asked her where Hannah was.

Hannah called me, from the dance minutes later.  Apparently she had gotten the time wrong and the dance ended at 11.  I couldn't hear Hannah, and we were disconnected 3 times, so finally I texted her back on her BFF's phone and told her when she left the dance, she was to come straight home.

At 11:15 she knocked on the front door.  I was already in bed and went downstairs to let her in.  Silently.  I walked back upstairs and went back to bed.  Seething.

At 11:45 Hannah's BFF's Mom starts texting me.  I am asleep, or was asleep.  I walk into Hannah's room, take her phone and walk back out and go back to bed.

So this morning the poop hit the fan.  Hannah got chewed out by David, she got chewed out by me, she lost her phone.  Her phone is now only used when she is at school or at soccer practice.  The moment she walks in the door, her phone goes in a box.  Off.  

When Hannah can use her phone to communicate with her parents, and not as a social tool,  she will be allowed to use it again.  We explained it would not kill her to check in with us every once and a while.

Did I behave badly?  Yes.  Did I throw a fit?  Yup.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Mommy Throws A Fit

I threw a fit tonight.  A real whopper.

Tonight is Homecoming.  Hannah's FIRST dance, her first dance as a high school student.  We've spent hours every weekend shopping for "the" dress, shoes and accessories.  We've been working on this for weeks.  Weeks!

This afternoon we decided that Hannah needed a sweater or a jacket for her ensemble.  Her dress is pretty strappy up top, and we had a cold front move in last night.  This is the first night we will have used the furnace all season.  We both agreed she was going to freeze and should have something pretty to wear over her dress.

The plans were for Hannah to meet at a friends house at 6 p.m., then the parents would each drive a leg of the "to dinner", "to pictures," "to the dance," "home from the dance" evening.  The kids would text us parents as they needed rides.

About 3:30 I ran out to Macy's to grab Hannah a black bolo sweater, then on to Kroger to grab a bottle of fingernail polish remover so she could re-do her nails.  While at Kroger I bought a few groceries, because I'm just like that.  I was rushed, and a little frenzied, but I was finished and on my way home by 4:45, so I could help Hannah get ready.

About 4:46 my daughter texted me and told me she was heading over to her friends house.  Uh, what?  You weren't supposed to be going over until 6 p.m.  I call her and get a half distracted conversation, since she wasn't paying attention to me but yelling at her brother.

At 4:50 I get home to a full dressed and made up girl walking out the door and start FREAKING OUT.  Why?  Uh, why did this friend change the meeting time from 6 to 5?  At the last minute?  Why had I just spent the last hour running errands for Hannah?  She didn't need a sweater?  She didn't need fingernail polish remover?  I had JUST WASTED MY TIME.

And now, I was being denied the pleasure of "helping" her get ready...take pictures...because she didn't need me, and I needed to put my groceries away.  I had missed everything because she sent me on her errands.  I WENT OFF.

Cue poor behavior.  Cue swearing.  Cue slamming of doors.

Hannah left.  I walked upstairs to find the disaster of the century in her bathroom. 

More bad behavior and swearing.

And now, I am sitting here mad at myself and upset I am such a juvenile, fit throwing weenie, while Hannah is at her first dance.  Not texting me.

I hope the other parents, who did drive legs of the evening, got some good pictures.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


Tonight, on the way to pick up Hannah from soccer practice there was a bit of roadkill in the middle of the road, which is not surprising, since we drive through back roads to get to the fields. 

Upon passing this particularly gruesome spectacle, Bubba pipes up "Aww, the poor pig."

Cue the crickets.

I start laughing.  "A pig?  Uh...I think you have your species mixed up.  THAT, my friend, was a possum."

Bubba starts arguing, "That was TOO a pig!  A baby pig, lying dead in the road.  Someone's family pet, lying in the middle of the road, DEAD, and YOU have no sympathy!"

I laughed the whole way to the field.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Dear Scary Guy,

Dear Scary Guy,

Thank you for scaring the sh*t out of me each morning while I am walking my dog.  I really appreciate how the only indications I have that you are lurking, are the glowing tip of your cigarette, and the way my dog starts FREAKING out when she smells you and your dogs.

Thank you, too, for eerily stopping and waiting while I am 100 feet away, and holding that pose until I am 100 feet in the opposite direction.  The way you dress head to toe in dark colors?  Just adds to your extra special persona.  AND the fact that you have two ENORMOUS black dogs on scary choke leashes, that look like the demon dogs of hell, also does not convey "safe" person in my mind.  Keep in mind, Scary Guy, that my dog may look like a 9 pound fur ball, but she'd rip your face off if you came close to me.  I swear.

We live in a nice neighborhood Scary Guy.  I would hope that you have some sort of livelihood that did not include the words "black-market" or "organs."  I have informed key witnesses (my husband) that if I turn up dead in the creek, YOU are the first person that he should question after the appropriate time of weeping and mourning.

Air hugs and kisses,


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Peanut Gallery

So now that the soccer games have started in our family, the name calling has commenced.  We, David and I, aren't name callers or too juvenile during Hannah's games for some reason, but last week at Bubba's first game, we started up again.

Maybe it's that we need to act like adults, or respectable parental types at high school soccer games, maybe it's because I have a cheat sheet of names/numbers for Hannah's team, but I NEVER call the girls on Hannah's team awful names like last year.

Sam's team?  We only know three of the 15 players.  It's a new team, therefore new names to learn, or make up.  You choose.  At least there wasn't alcohol involved this time.

So...there is "Gigantor," the 6' 200 pound 6th grader; "comb-over" or "hairspray", we use either, the kid with the hair that doesn't move no matter how hard he runs or if he falls; "Ginger," which is a pretty standard nickname; "other Michael," the guy who looks like Bubba's friend Michael, and my standby..."Dude" which encompasses any other child who is on the field that I don't know by name.   Yes, I am the crazy lady on the side of the field yelling, "Down the line, Dude"...."Way to take a shot, Dude"..."What in the heck was that hospital ball, Dude?"

The weather has been so nice, we aren't sitting in the car.  Yet.  So David and I are either on two fields, with two children, texting our fingers off, making snide comments, OR sitting in lawn chairs together, watching Bubba's games being a little loud and obnoxious.  

Say hello when you see us!

Friday, September 9, 2011

Dear IQ eighty employer,

Dear IQ eighty employer,

Thank you so much for showing me why jobs are so hard to come by.  In a rare (in 3 years of working in this town I have ONLY driven to pick up take out 2 times during a work day) fit of drive thru dining while running errands during my lunch break today I met your cashier.  A gen-u-ine IQ eighty, SHOULD BE working at MacDonalds, incompetent.

When I went thru your drive thru I ordered a mighty kid's meal (for the apples).  Upon proceeding to the cashier I handed her $10.56 for a $3.56 food bill.  First, the cashier took my change and asked me how much I had given her so she did not have to count it.  Second, the cashier asked me if I had handed her a ten dollar bill.  And third, she had to ASK ME how many dollar bills I needed in return.  She could NOT subtract 3 from 10.  In her head.  She said something incomprehensible about typing in the wrong amount and not being able to "do the math." I am honestly wondering if she needed optical aids, or if she was, in fact, dumber than some of my Kindergarteners.

Shame on you for placing that person at the cashier window.  And shame on you for having her work DURING LUNCH TIME.

I'm beginning to think that you, too, are IQ 80.

Hugs and meaty kisses,



Tuesday, September 6, 2011


My vacuum broke about ten days ago.  The beater bar end melted after 5 or 6 years of use, and the vacuum was kaput.  So I jumped on the Bissel web-site and ordered a new one, thinking it wouldn't take but a day or two, but I was wrong.

Why, no, what, does this have to do with a story about Pepper the wonder glider escaping?  You will see, my friend.  You will see.

Last week I got the new beater bar for my vacuum, and I was very excited.  Very excited that my daughter could resume her chore of vacuuming, and that it wouldn't seem as if I was picking up debris on my socks as I walked through my family room carpeting.  The new beater bar part fit like a dream, and the vacuum sat waiting for the weekend when Hannah was free of soccer practice and homework.  She promised to vacuum the WHOLE house.

Hannah also cleaned (took it outside and scrubbed it) the sugar glider cage and on Sunday night I went downstairs with her to check to make sure the cage and gliders were back in place.  

Hannah and I checked the cage as Chili was doing his favorite thing in the world, riding his wodent wheel.  We assumed Pepper-le-pew was napping in her shoebox, or lounging in her pouch, but I did not lay eyes on her.  The doors to the cage were closed and locked.  All was well.

On the way back up the stairs I had a Psych moment and flashed on a little black thing on the freshly vacuumed stair.  We walked up to bed, and I tossed this little black thing from the stair around in my head, thinking that I probably should have actually laid eyes on Pepper before leaving the basement.  Curiosity got the best of me and I drug Hannah back downy he stairs to lay eyes on Pepper.  

No Pepper.  But where could she be?  The cage was closed.  Upon further investigation, we noticed that the condo in the sky part of the cage (a second cage on top of their cage that has a dryer vent tunnel leading to it) was not connected correctly and one of the clasps was not hooked together.  

Long about then Chloe saunters down the stairs.  Chloe starts freaking out, chasing something...oh crap.  Pepper.  She is loose.

Grab the dog, throe her upstairs, and the squirrel hunt ensues.  A half an hour later after dancing with a large Christmas tree and almost crushing Pepper with a stack of luggage Pepper was found, and back in the tightly locked cage.

Dear Macchio Man,

Dear Macchio Man,

Thank you so much for your entertaining qualities.  As I was driving down the freeway yesterday I noticed you in your FULL Macchio regalia.  You had your seat reclined, arm hanging out the window, wearing your black and white bandana tied around your head and t-shirt with the arms cut off, driving a red mid 80's coupe.  

Granted, you are quite a bit older than Ralph when he made Karate Kid, gauging by the crazy amount of hair on your face and creeping out of the neck of your shirt, chewbacca, but I could tell you still wanted to be JUST LIKE Mr. MACCHIO.

The thing that made me laugh even harder than all your macho manhood?  The matching red Yankee Candle air freshener hanging from your rear view mirror.

Wow.  That's about all I can say.  WOW.

Hugs and hairy kisses,

Monday, August 29, 2011

Only Five Dollars!

Thank you itunes for having your $4.99 movie sales.  Sixteen Candles is on sale this week "to own" for only $4.99.  Go get your copy!  Jake...oh you handsome devil.  I can't wait!

Burfday Boy

Bubba had "the best birthday ever!"
Giant Nerf guns...electric guitars...angry birds.

I am usually opposed to wasting money on items like the crap mentioned above,
but A. I uncharacteristically waited until the night before to buy his gifts, 
B. got everything he wanted, 
and C. scored on clearance items!

Bubba decided at 11 a.m. that he wanted a Red Velvet cake,
and as I ran into Walmart to buy a mix I noticed the 6" cakes in the bakery.
Woot!  Red Velvet!

Won Three to Zero

Hannah's team won against their rivals this evening 3 to 0!

And, as usual, David and I need to brush up on our whispering skilz, because we
kept a few people in the stands entertained with our snarkey comments.  

Saturday, August 27, 2011


As the week closes I am very thankful that I made it through the kid's first week of school and my first week of working full time successfully.  I shuttled children.  I managed to have dinner on the table each night.  I kept up with the laundry.  Each bed has clean sheets.  The dog got walked each day.  I found Bubba a birthday present.  I finished my lesson plans.  And I didn't kill or hurt any of my students.  Success!  

Number 2

Today, on the eve of his birthday, Bubba received his soccer jersey for the new Fall rec league season.  After last years horrific "watermelon" jersey we are very thankful that the newest addition to our jersey collection is a subdued camel and navy combo.

When Bubba went to choose his number he was given the choice of 1, 2, 3 or 4 because of sizing and the fact the he is one of the smallest kids on the team being that it is a 6-8th grade league.  Yes, there are post-pubescent hairy boys on his team and it is freaking me out a bit, but I'm trying to adopt more of the "rub some dirt on it" attitude when he gets hurt.  Bubba picked the number 2...which at the time I thought GREAT!  
Hannah is also number 2 so it will be easy for me to root for 
my kids with my Alzheimer's and all.

We arrived home to show David and Hannah the new jersey and 
David chimes in with the inevitable...
"Wow, I didn't expect to have two number 2's in one day!"
Followed by Hannah's well timed...
"I love a good number 2."

Ahh...the potty humor.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning.

Dear Network Executives,

Dear Network Executives,

Thank you so much for providing us with wonderful programming choices such as the newly discovered entry on my Time Warner listing "Perfect Boobs."  No, I do not subscribe to the porn channels.  This particular show could have been an infomercial, but needless to say what channel do you think my pre-pubescent boy is going to be attracted to when surfing the listings?

No, I am not a reality t.v. junkie.  I have friends that watch the "Bachelor" faithfully after 100 seasons...I have friends that are bigs fans of show like "Ice Road Truckers."  I have discovered a friends' dark secret obsession with "Keeping Up with the Kardashians," but honestly I never personally seek out reality t.v. shows.  Okay, there is my family's occasional fascination with "Swamp People"...but that is quality programming.  I love trying to count how many teef Junior has and love seeing the completely different lifestyle that is Swamp life.  Maybe I just miss the southern accents we encountered in North Carolina.  Who knows?

Oh wait, we also like "American Pickers"  but that doesn't count either.  Antiques and picking through peoples junk is normal behavior.

When did you, Network Executives, decide that reality t.v. shows and shows with names like "Perfect Boobs" were air-able?

I am seriously considering canceling my cable, but what would I do every evening?  My ISP is bundled with my t.v.  and I'd have to actually do something strenuous, like research, to change things.

Hugs and kisses,


Friday, August 19, 2011

Dear Mr. Superintendent,

Dear Mr. Superintendent,

Thank you so much for your advanced thought in today's pre-school activities and the havoc they would wreck on my driving and scheduling.  I really appreciate how you planned middle school AND high school orientation for EXACTLY THE SAME times.  I guess ours is the only family in our district that has both an incoming freshman and an incoming 6th grader.

Both my children came home completely overwhelmed and freaked out that they were never going to make it from first period to second period and so on.

Not only did you plan the 3 orientation events (two middle schools and one high school) at the same time, but you created a traffic jam around the area of each school in question so as to make attending both impossible, picking up both your children impossible, and just plain a MESS in our usually traffic-less Stepford community.  It took me a half and hour to travel the distance of a mile this morning because of your orientation geniousity and planning.

While we are on the subject of your mad planning skilz, let me also commend you for your let's get rid of half-day public Kindergarten and replace it with full day only on EITHER Mondays/Thursdays and every other Wednesdays  OR Tuesdays/Fridays and every other Wednesdays except in the month of November.  What? you are asking?  What schedule is this?  That is exactly what everyone in our community is asking.  WTF?  Yes, this new Kindergarten policy has provided me with a job, but can we all just say what WERE you smoking when you devised this?  Not one person understands the schedule and how you devised this.

I understand that this master plan of yours saves the district money because of bussing, but seriously?  What is the dollar amount?  Can I write you a check?

Sorry, not your biggest fan at the moment.



Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Dear Walmart People,

Dear Walmart People,

Thank you so much for your entertaining ways, but I must confess I really do hate you.  Not you personally, because I am not a hater, but your idiotic ways.

Yesterday I walked into Super Walmart because it was the closest grocery store (that sold edible produce) and you shocked me people.  Repeatedly.  Do I normally shop in snobby stores?  No.  I wouldn't consider Meijer, Target, Home Depot, Lowes, etc to be excessively snobby, but the clientele in my Walmart always has a way of stunning me with their behaviors.

Don't get me wrong, the web-site "People of Walmart" has such wonderful pictures of Walmart people in their full regalia, and I did see my fair share of those yesterday...yes I am talking to you "lady in the purple zebra print shortie daisy duke romper with high heeled black boots"...but the more shocking Walmart issue was the psycho parents.  Has a child psychologist toured our fair country's Walmart's taking notes and secretly video taping?  Because they would have a plethora of material for their "How NOT To Parent" series.

We witnessed the whiny "I want this" 4 year old that as soon as her mother would say no, she would pick up another thing and say "I want this."  That parent might as well have just timed her "No's" to every 15 seconds.  She didn't have to wait for her daughter to ask.

We witnessed the seemingly stoned parent who shuffled through the store pushing her cart, taking up the whole aisle, who in the coarse of the 6 minutes it took to get past her and her cart, lost her child 12 times.  This parent, who was called "MaMa" but looked more like a "Maw Maw" walked away from her child 12 times.  EVEN my kids rolled their eyes.  That child needed a tether or the parent needed a triple shot.

Then there was the loud talking, boisterous pair of women with the Hannah Montana-ish rugrat that ignored their superstar child whilst she sang into her bedazzled microphone at the top of her lungs in the produce section.  

The finale' was the obnoxious woman who sideswiped me to get into the "short line" with her cart of 196 items.  Call me crazy, but if you see a person walking toward a check out line (me) you don't run at them with your cart so they stop to avoid injury of all children involved, just to cut in front of them in line.

Wow.  About all I can say is wow Walmart.


Thursday, August 11, 2011

Dear Airline Passengers and Staff,

Dear Airline Passengers and Staff,

Thank you for teaching me how to stand in a boarding line and for correcting my errant ways in regards to carry on items.  I know, it seems like I should have learned these skills after almost 41 years on this earth, after all I do fly usually 2 or 3 times a year, but I keep forgetting that boarding lines are different from normal lines and that airlines have screwed themselves with carryon rules.

Take for instance the boarding groups.  On all four of our flights our boarding group was #2.  The airline employee would make the announcement that they were about to board, and every person within shouting distance would come and stand as close as they could...seemingly in a line to cheek in.  When our group was called, we went to stand in line and noticed the line was not moving.  We'd ask the people around us if they were in line and they would say no.  And stand there.  So we'd weave ahead.  Are you in line?  No.  Weave ahead.  PEOPLE.  You are standing in a line, but aren't actually in line.  What the heck?

On one of our flights we as we wove up through the "line" of people I asked one woman if she was in line and her answer?  "Yeah, everyone is!" (Insert snotty inflection here).  Being me, I retorted, "Actually all these other people?  Not so much.  They are just standing here."  And I walked ahead of the bitchy lady to the check in.  Turns out?  That lady was our seat mate.  David and I made a point of sitting together on that leg so that bitchy lady would get the pleasure of sitting with our sugared up, slap flighting, fart-y children.  Bitter?  Naw.  Grateful she corrected me.  Thank you bitchy lady.

And don't get me started on carry on items!  Mrs. American Airline employee who tackled me as I walked down the jetway with (gasp) 3 items rather than 2!  So sorry. Again, thanks for correcting me.

I should insert here that we went with 4 backpacks instead of checking luggage.  Each one of us carried a normal schoolchild sized backpack, and in addition, I carried my purse and small DSLR camera case.  If you have flown recently you know that this baggage charge has created such a stir.  Passengers carry these body bagged sized duffels, HUGE shopping bags full of weird crap, and basically break the rules on size with every bag.  This evil AA employee lets a woman in front of our group head down the jetway with two ENORMOUS duffel bags, but as I start down the jetway she balks at my backpack AND purse AND camera case (three!) all of which would have fit in half of one of the other lady's duffel bags.  David and the kids head down, and here I am being pulled aside so I can gate check one of my bags.  Seriously?

Thank God David, not seeing me in the jetway, comes back for me and takes my camera bag as I am arguing with evil AA lady.  Seeing that he has only a backpack, she agrees to his resolution.

I am muttering the whole way down the jetway until I remember I am on vacation.  "Don't let evil airline employee ruin your vacation.  Don't let evil airline employee ruin your vacation..."

Only one hug and one kiss (we wouldn't want to exceed our limit),