Well fiddle-dee-dee!!

The beautiful Ms. Lovely from The Ideologies of Melissa has bestowed upon me not one but two awards!  The stars must have been aligned just right.  Or she was drinking.  Whatever – I’m thrilled and going to accept them before she changes her mind!

The first is the Kreative Blogger award.  Awww shucks, I never thought I was particularly Kreative – more like just get all the words out before my brain explodes – but I’m sure Ms. Lovely knows what she’s talking about!

Apparently, there are rules attached to this award.  And they are:

1. Thank the person(s) who nominated you for this award.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ms. Lovely at The Ideologies of Melissa.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.  Done
3. Link to the person(s) who nominated you for this award. Done
4. List seven things about yourself people might not know. Holy cow – this is a toughie.

*I’m left-handed – that’s why I’m so brilliant!

*Hubby is left-handed too.  But Man-Child is right handed.  Wait – I guess that doesn’t count since it’s about them.  Hmmm – how about this – I never even tasted broccoli until I got married.

*I’m not a morning person – don’t look at me or, God forbid, speak to me until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee (this presented a challenge when M-C was an infant. . . )

*I’m actually pretty shy.

*I can be a junk-food junkie if left to my own devices.

*As much as I love technology – I love to send and receive handwritten mail.

*I went to State Championships for shorthand.  Dorky, I know.  I didn’t win.  You know now, I can barely remember how to do it.

5. Nominate seven Kreative Bloggers.

Only seven??!!!  Oh the pressure.  Here they are in no particular order:

Chic Mama – I absolutely love her.

Modern Mom at How to Survive Life in the Suburbs

Allie at Hyperbole and a half – she is too funny

Pearl at Pearl-why you little...

Jody at Take me as I am

Bad Mommy Moments – she talks about the truth that is being a mom

Posh Totty
6. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate. done
7. Leave a comment on the seven blogs you nominate so they know they have been nominated. I’m on my over to do so now – so consider it done.

The next award Ms. Lovely presented me with is:

I’ve always wanted a crown and like to think I am a queen!  So this is perfect!  Apparently, there aren’t any rules associated with this award – so I will pass it on to all my friends/followers.  Just grab it – it’s yours and I think you should all be queens with me (except for you Blasé; because you don’t do awards; I don’t think the crown is quite your style and you are certainly not a queen!)

All of a sudden . . .

Darling hubby has an interest in what I'm doing in the blogosphere.

Hmmm..... think that could be Man-Child's doing?? 

Me-thinks so.

Hubby asked me tonite.  Will I ever get to read your blog; or is it private?

I told him that I'm not ready to share just yet.

But, to pacify him, I did share You Know You Married The Right Man When and do you know what he said???

"Well, of course.  That's what any man should do."

I definitely married the right man.

I then informed him that most of my blog-life was bitching complaining about Man-Child.  He thought that was hilarious.  But, it seems to be true.  Man-Child gives me WAY more grief than Hubby does.

Although, I must say, I checked M-C's grades today; and today he is my son!

He's brillant and handsome.  What more could a mother want?  Of course, when he's a pain in the rear, he's his father's son.  Goes without saying!

He's only human after all . . .

Although we haven't been close in years, I really enjoyed visiting with my dad.

One of the things I discovered; he's at peace. He seems happy. This puts me at peace and makes me happy.

Yes, he doesn't take care of himself. He's only 66, but yet seems older. That may be because of all the recent issues (I hope and pray!).  And hopefully, once he gets the surgery, his health will improve.

But, despite everything, he's a good man. Reba McEntire says it best in her song - The Greatest Man I Never Knew. This so explains our relationship. Except, I want to change things. I want to have a relationship with him; before he's gone. And it saddens me to no end to realize that one day, he will be gone.  But hopefully, not for a while; not till we get to know each other better.

It makes me so very sad to realize how many years we've missed. Yes, the family is totally dysfunctional. There have been many issues. But, after visiting with my dad - I realize that despite everything, he loves me. And, despite it all, I love him. He's the only parent I have left.

And I need to make more time for him. The others, well, I'm not ready for that commitment and, apparently, they aren't either as I didn't see or hear from them the whole week; and they knew I was there. Dad doesn't express his feelings (hmmmm, wonder where I get that from . . . ), but I now know that he loves me. He misses me. He loves me. He doesn't judge. I am who I am; and he loves me anyway.  I can reciprocate now.

He does love me; I am a daddy's girl. I cried when I left him the other day. He's not the man I thought he was. He's even better.

We discovered we actually have things in common.  We both like to putter around in the yard and grow things.  We both like to do projects around the house - we discussed the merits of various stains, etc.  We both like to read the same kinds of books.

I realized that this man is a veritable fountain of information.  He knows things.  He told me how to fix the bald spots in my yard easily.  He told me what kind of fertilizer I should be using.  He told me about some of the best tools for various projects.  He told me many things.  The things that a dad should know and share.

To see him at peace. To see him happy with his life. It makes me happy. I wish I could have put him in my pocket and brought him home with me.

My parents. They were not meant for each other. Apparently there was a passion there - but it wasn't a good kind of passion. I just wish that my mother could have lived long enough to find the peace that he has.

I can only pray that I find that same peace.

He has made some mistakes along the way (haven't we all?). But in the end - he's my dad. He's only human. As parents, haven't we all made mistakes? Raising children is not easy. I guess, it was easier to be absent than to deal with the hard stuff - like the (resentful and bitter) ex-wife and the rebellious teens. Especially when you don't know how to be there; because you weren't raised that way.

That's my dad.  Making a log-cabin bird house.  He said he'd send me pictures.  I hope he does.

He loves me; I love him.

In the end, it will be all good.

Life is a never-ending pile of laundry

Although both my guys were sick while I was gone - I was pleasantly surprised to find that the house was clean upon my return. I was so touched. They knew I'd had a hard week and gone to so much trouble for me. . .such great guys - I was choked up for a moment.


Until I went upstairs to unpack and start a load of laundry. . .

Notice the suitcase? Looks to me like someone's idea of unpacking from their weekend trip is to unzip it and dump it. Mind you this mess is after I've already started a load.

I was informed that they'd done some clothes while I was gone.

Yup - this huge, wrinkled mass of clothing stacked up on the counter is actually clean clothes! ::sigh::

But to distract me from the never-ending, freakin' laundry - I thought y'all might enjoy this:


Only in Texas would this be considered a "creek."

Kickapoo Creek

I wanted to also get a picture of the signage - but there is a strict rule, law, whatever about stopping on bridges. 

As much as I love North Carolina - I sometimes miss Texas . . . just not in the summer!!  Oh and the humidity.  Or the bugs (have you ever seen a flying palmetto bug?  I think they are related to dinosaurs!)  Ick - remembering those bugs flying at your head makes the laundry not look so bad . . .

I'm Baaaaaccck!

Hey folks, I'm back and totally exhausted.

Dad is doing so much better that even though it was hard to leave at least I felt okay about leaving him.

As you know, last Friday I received a call which scared me to death.  I was being fed all kinds of information and wasn't really sure what was going on. 

At first, they thought he'd had a stroke.  And that the spot on the brain was cancer.  And that the balloon he'd had put in years ago was clogged.

Only the last one was right.  Apparently, he had a bleeding ulcer.  For months!!!  Honestly, if you can only eat milk and crackers don't you think you'd go to the doctor??  Only after he had a minor accident in his truck after getting dizzy and lightheaded did anyone make him go.  Turns out he'd lost so much blood that they had to give him 5 units.  They said he'd almost bled out.  The spot on the brain is damage from so much blood loss.

When I arrived at the hospital on Sunday the first thing he said to me was "Good.  Now I gotta ride home."  I'm like WTF???  I refuse to help the man escape!  Turns out they had truly discharged him.  There was nothing more they could do until they get ready to do the bypass surgery on the 29th.

So I took him home - even though his color wasn't good, he was weak and shaky.  But by yesterday, he was much stronger and looking healthier.  I then proceeded to drive two hours each way every day to see him.  I didn't want to stay with them because they are both ill and didn't need the aggravation of a guest.  And they go to bed like at 7:00 pm.  So I stayed with my best girlfriend and her family.

I have so much to tell you.  But I'll do it in another post because right now I just want to enjoy being home - even though it's raining!  My whole week in Texas was nothing but rain and then to come home to it?  And you all know how I feel about rain!

Anyway, thank you all so much for the good thoughts, wishes and prayers.  You are amazing!

I'm Packed Up

I'm packed up and ready to go.  I've booked the flights; have a car reserved.  ::sigh::

I'm trying to figure out why this is so hard on me.  I wasn't this emotional over my mother.  The only thing I can figure is that I had decided that my mother was going to die any time years before because of her lifestyle.  So when it actually happened I wasn't surprised.

This though has come out of left field.  I knew that he had health issues.  I knew he didn't take very good care of himself.  I also knew that he lied to me whenever I asked him about these things.  Didn't want me to worry I suppose.  But I didn't know that it was this bad.

It truly bothers me that he's been in the hospital for two weeks and I was only informed last night.  They couldn't find my number.  How's that for dysfunction?  His only daughter and they couldn't find the number?  Even so, I'm listed.  They couldn't call information?

My friends have rallied.  Both online and in real time.  One has even offered to fly out with me for support.  I told her no, but it touched my heart nonetheless.  Another friend is offering me sanctuary during my stay.  My step-daughter arranged the car for me and sent her love.  I am truly blessed to have so many loving people in my life.

I'm very tired.  And have so much flying around in my brain.  And my heart hurts. 

Keep us in your thoughts; if I get access to a computer, I'll try to update you.

Morning Brings Clarity

As you all know, last night was an extremely emotional one for me.  Morning brings clarity.

Hubby and I are fine.  Just working through a few things.  Just so happened that the phone call came in the middle of our conversation - which made emotions run a little amok.

Although my family is crazy.  Yes, crazy.  I should write a book.  I could make millions.  Anyway, although the majority of them are crazy, my dad has been pretty stable.  Albeit, we've been distant I do love him dearly.  So I will most likely go home for a few days. 

I just spoke to my dad.  As is his usual response to me asking how he was - he said, "Alright, I guess."  Makes me smile.  No matter what the situation, that's always his response.  He said that the stint/balloon they'd put in a few years ago was clogged.  So apparently, they are going to put in a tube(??) from his heart to the artery.  They still don't know what the shadow on his brain is.  One says cancer, another says it could be from blood loss.  When I told him I was coming, he said there was no point since he can't go anywhere and they won't let him go home.  Like, I'm coming to be entertained.  I explained I'd stay with friends and that I just wanted to see him.  He sounded so old.  My heart is breaking.

It's hard to realize that he could possibly pass away.  I like to remember him as the big, strong guy he was when I was small.  That's the image I carry of him in my heart.  As the child, you grow up and go on with your life.  And in doing so, don't realize that your parents are also growing older, weaker and, possibly, sicker.  Once this fact confronts you it slams you to the ground.  Because it's your parents.  In your mind, they are supposed to always be there for you; like they were when you where a child.  Facing that reality is difficult.

Hubby and Man-Child have been totally supportive and wonderful.  We were supposed to take a trip up to Asheville this weekend to see Hubby's daughter.  They offered to stay home with me.  I told them to go.  There's really nothing they can do for me; especially in light of the fact that I'll most likely be leaving.  Both of them have shown me just how much they love me and care for me.  And it makes me so happy to know that our little family is so much closer than my family could have ever been, or will ever be.  They are the light of my life.

So if you believe, please add me and my dad to your prayers.  If you don't, then please send some good thoughts and vibes our way.

Although I've only known some of you for a short time - you guys have really been amazing.  It's fabulous how much you've given me.  Thank you.

Tough Night

This has been a very, very rough evening.

Hubby and I had a difficult discussion.  That was bad enough.

Then I received a phone call from my dad's "wife".  Apparently, he's in the hospital.

Has been for two weeks now.  They really don't know what is wrong.

She called my brother.  We don't talk.  She assumed he would call me.  Wrong.

She finally found my number today.

All I know at this point is there is "shadow" on his brain.  WTH?  They don't know if it's cancer or remanants from a stroke.

I've been crying all evening.  A mixture of it all, I suppose.

I'm not really close to my family.  There have been "issues."

But this, for some reason is devastating to me.  Is it because of the talk hubby and I had earlier that has me so emotional?  I don't know.  I'm generally not that emotional.  Or is it because he's the only "parent" I have left?

I don't know.

I'm not coherent right now.  So I should probably step away from the keyboard.

So - just so you know, if you don't hear from me for a few days it's because I had to fly home. 

Yes, home.  The place I abandoned about 11 years ago.  With no regrets.  At the time.

I don't know what to do.

Should I fly out this weekend to go see my dad?  Should I wait?

Even hubby agrees (wonderful man that he is), that our issues need to be put on the back burner for now and that I need to deal with this.

Update:  No matter what I may have said in the past (or the future), I have two great guys looking out for me.  Both of them, hubby & M-C, have stopped what is going on in their lives to look out for me.  Despite what I may sometimes think, they love me.

First Girlfriend

I suppose enough time has passed that I can share with you Man-Child's first girlfriend story.

Only my child could end up with a girlfriend at least three states away (depending on which way you go).

Yup, you read that right - three states away.

How did this come about you ask?  Well, let me tell you. (Sit back and relax it's a long story)

It all started with a class trip to D.C.  at the end of 8th grade.  A class trip that he begged us not to attend.  Which was a waste of his time, as the administration had decided that parents shouldn't go on this trip as part of it was to teach them some independence before they hit high school.  So only teachers and administrators were chaperoning, which I guess led to him being a bit more outgoing than he would have been if a watchful parent had been along.

Anyway, apparently Little Miss Hot Chick caught his eye.  She was there on her own class trip.  They exchanged cell numbers and thanks to modern technology kept in touch.  Luckily, she was on the same plan - because believe you me that relationship would have ended ASAP if we'd received a large bill.

We, the parents, of course had no idea about this relationship as Man-Child kept it from us for months! 

Once we did learn of it we didn't think much of it.  I mean really??  She lives many, many, many miles away.  What could come of it?  We figured that they were more friends than anything.

As last Christmas approached, I asked Man-Child what he wanted.  He hemmed and hawed.  Finally, he said he would like to go to her state for Christmas.  WTF???  Absolutely not.  Particularly without parental supervision.

Being the child he is with an ever-ready answer to everything; her parents would supervise and he could stay at their house.  OVER MY DEAD BODY.  Did he really think I was born yesterday?

In the end, we compromised.  Mainly because my husband who spoils the shit out of his son loves his son so much he can hardly say no, intervened.  I agreed to take M-C to visit.  And we would stay at a hotel.  As happy as this made him, I kinda regret it as I am sure it just encouraged the relationship.  But, that is all he asked for.  I reminded him repeatedly, that my parents would have never done this for me.  And, most parents, I know wouldn't have done it either.  I do have to admit - he was very appreciative. 

We had a nice visit.  LMHC seemed to be a nice girl; if not a little needy.  Her family was very nice and ensured that we had a nice visit.  And we came home.

I figured surely this would fizzle sooner rather than later.  I mean come on.  What high school girl doesn't want to have her boyfriend right there?  To go to the movies, dances, etc.

As Spring Break approached, M-C started dropping hints.  During Spring Break M-C and I usually take a trip - just the two of us for some mom/son time.  I guess he figured maybe I'd be willing.  Maybe we could go there.  Maybe we could meet them in South Carolina at Myrtle Beach.  Luckily, Hubby saved me this time.  He had decided that we should go see his mother over the Easter holiday.  Fine by me.

Then they had a spat.  Over what, I'm not quite sure.  Something to do with some guy's picture on her Facebook.  They broke up.  M-C woke Hubby up in the middle of the night to discuss.  M-C has a very black and white outlook on things.  It was over.

Of course, by the next morning they were back together.  I was crushed.  Summer was looming.  I knew the hints would start dropping.  I was utterly astounded that her parents hadn't put a stop to this.  They were willing to work their family vacation around ours.  Really??

So for a couple more months this went on.  Needless to say I was getting quite exasperated.  This was getting quite ridiculous.  M-C wasn't meeting anyone (girls) in the area.  He wasn't socializing.  He was always on the damn phone texting with this girl.  I bit my tongue.

At the beginning of summer, LMHC had to have some kind of surgery.  So no talk of meeting up. 

July 4th weekend, M-C and I went to lunch.  I have a very firm rule, no phone conversations or texting at a meal.  You are to pay attention to the person(s) you are with.  His phone went off.  He apologized.  He told me he was sorry and was telling her that he was at lunch.  It went off again.  Again, he apologized.  It went off again.  He was very irritated.  I said, why not just ignore it.  He, in a very irriated way, informed me that she would get mad.  Well, excuse me.  Who the hell does she think she is?  Finally, she seemed to get the message.

They began to talk about visiting Myrtle Beach and wondering if we would meet them there.  For a week.  I said no flat out.  I said it was far too expensive.  Then they came back and said they could visit Asheville which is much closer and not as expensive.  Needless to say, I was in a quandry.  What to do?  Obviously, her parents weren't going to balk at a visit.  It was obvious that the children ruled that household.

I could be the total bee-atch and quash it.  Or not. 

Then the football schedule came out.  ::the angels began to sing::  Apparently, the week she was trying so very hard to schedule for a visit also involved the first practice before the scrimmage game.  If he wasn't there then he couldn't play in the scrimmage.  If he didn't play in the scrimmage he wouldn't get to play in the first real game.  If I haven't mentioned it before, M-C loves him some football.  There was no way in holy hell that he wasn't playing.  And apparently, loves football much more than LMHC.  So . . .

He called it off.  All on his own. 

He tried to let her down easy.  And he told her all the things we, and his friends, had been telling him.  He told her it was over; that this was ridiculous trying to have a long distance relationship, especially so young.  She asked if they could still be friends.  He said no.  Because he realized that if that were the case, he'd be sucked right back in.  He totally cut ties with her.  Even de-friended her on Facebook.  (I told you he was a black and white kinda kid.)  He then woke hubby up in the middle of the night (again) to discuss.  At least he feels he can talk to us - which is a big plus.

To this day he hasn't had any contact with her.  Hopefully, she's moved on.  He has.   And one day soon, he'll meet a girl that lives in the same area.

::sigh::

And once again, I'll have to deal with being the second best girl in his life.

You Know You've Married the Right Man When . . .

You know you've married the right man when you can say:

I didn't get the paper this morning.


Him:  Why?


Me:  It's raining and I think there is frog outside the door.


Him:  Okay.  I'll get it.

He totally understands.  You hate rain and especially frogs.

You know you've married the right man when he says to you:

Please.  Don't try to cook anymore.  Let me do it.

He understands.  You suck at cooking and you absolutely hate it.  He, of course, is brilliant at it and loves it.  Win win.

You know you've married the right man when he says:

Go.  Go on the trip with your girlfriend.  I don't mind.  I'll hold down the fort.

So even though he hates to travel and do things outside of his comfort zone you forgive him for not going with you and love him anyway; because he's not holding you back.

You really know you've married the right man when he says:

If you want me to, I can wash my own clothes.

And he knows just how much you hate the never-ending laundry pile.  Though you don't let him because he does way too much for you already.

Rain, rain go away . . .

Oh my holy hell.  Will the rain ever stop?

Yes, I know we are in a drought.  I know it’s only been two days of rain.

But you don’t understand, I need sunlight.  Weather like this makes me feel depressed, tired, and just plain icky.  (Not to mention what it does to my hair!)

It’s an actual disorder called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).  And yes, I’ve diagnosed myself (cause I’m amazing like that).  When sufferers of this disorder lack natural sunlight they can become depressed and possibly suffer from other major health issues; including some cancers and osteoporosis.

I can deal with the cold, the heat, the shorter days (somewhat), but days and days without the sun is just a killer to me.

Yes, I work inside so I don’t actually have the sunlight pouring down on me; but to be able to look out the window and see the light – it just makes me happy.

So as a result, I don’t have much to say today.  Because I’m SAD, sad and tired.

On the plus side though (cause I always try to find a silver lining) Man-Child’s game has been cancelled so at least I don’t have to go sit in the rain tonight.

It’s a good thing I don’t live in Mobile, AL (which has been named the number one rainiest city in the contiguous 48 states – surprising, huh?).  Yes, I’m full of fun facts.

::sigh:: And the forecast doesn’t look to promising through the weekend either.

Writer’s Workshop – What Message Would You Craft?

Another post inspired by Mama Kat and her weekly prompts.  Hop on over and join in the fun.  This week I’ve chosen number 2; What’s the message you would craft.

As we all know – I have much to say to many different people.  So the problem here will be limiting myself to just one or two (maybe four or five) messages.

Dear Obnoxious Co-Worker -

In the name of all that is holy – COVER your mouth when you sneeze.  You do realize that there is that whole H1N1 thing going around, don’t you?  And it’s not like you only sneeze once in a blue moon – it’s all the darn time.  Maybe you should have that checked out.  And by the way, you should really lower your voice.  You work far, far down the hall and around the corner – but yet I can still hear your private, personal phone conversations.  And I really,really don’t want to know all the details.  Thank you.

Dear Man-Child -

I’ve asked you nicely at least once every day this past week – to please pick up all your crap stuff out of the mudroom.  (And it still hasn’t been explained to me why there are clothes in there.  I can only assume that you walk in the door and strip down immediately leaving everything where it falls.  This makes no sense to me.)  It hasn’t been done.  I’m also not real thrilled with the fact that instead of putting your clothes in the hamper that is located in your room, that you are dropping them on the floor, in front of the door, in the laundry room.  Seems to me that it takes way more exertion to walk down the hall to drop the clothes than it would be to just put them in the hamper.  I can only assume that you are doing these things to see just how much I can take before I running screaming like a mad woman out the door.  But, here’s the thing, are you sure that is what will happen?  I mean instead I could just go crazy on you.  That wouldn’t be pretty.

Lots of love, Mom

Dear Hubby -

I love you so much; I really do.  But quit lecturing me.  I am an adult –your wife; not your child.  And besides – you need to look at your behaviors before you start to lecture me.  People in glass houses you know.  Oh and by the way – get on the ball already and build that damn shed.  Winter is on its way, and I want to be able to park in the garage.

Lots of love, Me

Dear Lottery Gods -

I really, really need to win.  Show me some mercy.

Me.

Meeting New People

So my new friend, Blasé, just dedicated a whole post just to me. Awww, shucks. ::blushing::

He seems to be a really nice guy (hopefully he's not some kind of weirdo stalker or anything - especially since he lives in the same damn state that I do. . . ). So I suggest that you go check out his blog.

But - be warned. He's not a soft, teddy bear kind of blogger (at least not on the outside - on the inside I bet he's a freakin' marshmellow). He tells it like it is (in his opinion). He shoots from the hip and is very straight-forward. And he's funny.

He seems to have an inordinate amount of women that follow his blog (wonder how his wife feels about that?) which is rather surprising and isn't - considering that it seems like (at least in my experience) most bloggers are women (read: moms) - but then again that's how I got into this (the whole mom-thing). But you start off in one section and then find yourself down a totally different path - and meeting new friends along the way.

So, thank you Blasé - for your post and your friendship (just don't turn out to be some weirdo, stalker kind of person).

WTH Jimmy Carter?

I truly must stop watching and reading the news. I really must, for my own sanity.

There is, daily, at least one story that makes me stop and say "What the hell?"

Apparently, Jimmy Carter (former President) is blathering on and on that everyone who disagrees with Obama's policies are racist.

Yes, you read that right.

If you disagree with anything Obama says - Jimmy Carter says you are a racist.

This is without a doubt the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.

Yes, there are racists out there (unfortunately) who will disagree with Obama if he were to say the sky was blue. But I think by and large those who disagree with his policies or opinions or - what have you - are not racist.

As hubby says, this is not the way to move this country forward.

Yes, this country is deeply divided over some of the current issues facing us today (war, health care - just to name a few). But to throw race into this? It's totally ridiculous.

And how does it make us look as a country? Stupid.

Obviously, race wasn't/isn't a factor. He won. Plain and simple. He worked hard on his campaign and he won. If race was a factor he wouldn't have - easy peasy.

Whether or not you agree or not is your prerogative - but don't use race as a factor - because it's not the case (at least for most people I know and shouldn't be anyway).

What are statements like this teaching our children? The innocents who are born loving everyone? It only teaches divisiveness and isn't that what we are all trying to avoid?

So basically, I'm saying - "Shut up, Mr. Carter and go home. You aren't helping."

Award Time.

So, Blasé, over at Think and Laugh, not necessarily in that order, was complaining today about how we (women) are constantly sending and oohhhing and ahhing over blog awards.

Well, since Blasé is pretty cool I thought I'd honor him with his own award. Blasé, you are the very proud recipient of the

Now, since I’m making this up as I go along – here are the rules.

1.  You MUST display this award on your site – even if it is pink.  You’ll get over it.

2. You must pass this award on to at least three blogs that you think are rockin’.

That’s about it.  Congratulations Blasé!!  Go forth and spread the joy.

Today's Accomplishments

What have I accomplished today, you ask? Well, let me tell you . . .

I've done my toes.

I've thrown a load of laundry into the washer and then into the dryer.

I rock.

All this, despite the fact I spent a full day at the office.

What's that? What did I accomplish at the office today?

Hmmm. Good question.

The answer. Not a darn thing.

August/September is always slow for us. But this has been freakin' ridiculous.

So I surf the net, read some blogs. Remind myself that Big Brother is watching and log off. Maybe do a crossword puzzle or read a magazine - covertly, mind you - because Big Brother is watching. Find someone to chat with for a minute or two. Read a few tweets on my Blackberry - because Big Brother isn't watching there. Think about all the stuff I could be doing if I were at home. Tap my fingers, jump back on the net for a bit. Look at the clock. Holy cow, how can it only be 10:00 am??

This folks, is how I spend my day.

Yes, I love my job. I love, love my boss (the most fabulous boss ever!! Really, I'm not just saying that). But I would definitely love my job more if it would pick up a bit.

Yes, I know the saying goes - "it's a good thing if the legal department isn't busy. . . " but holy cow. This is beyond crazy.

So folks, what do you do when you've got downtime? After all the "busy work" to be done has been done. Please, please tell me - because I'm about ready to pull my hair out. And that, my friends, would NOT be a good look for me.

The whole debacle . . . are you kiddin' me?

Okay. He's thirty-freakin' one. She's eighteen.

She's a child.

Why would he ruin this moment in the spotlight for her?

How dare he ruin this moment for her? He's an adult - he should know better.

Ok, maybe he really thought Beyonce deserved to win. But this??? Say it on your blog, or tweets, or whatever - later. Let this girl shine in her moment. Why humiliate her? Because that is exactly what he did - humiliate her. She, who did not deserve this kind of treatment.

TOTALLY unacceptable!!

Now he's giving some half-assed apology. Really?

Maybe this is his style; whatever - it totally isn't cool.

She won the award; she deserved it. Let her bask in the moment.

What a jerk. Or as Pink said, "Kane West is the biggest piece of sh*t on earth. Quote me."

Whose job is it anyway?

Really?

So hubby asks me this evening. Are you going to pick him (Man-Child) up?

Me: emmmm, no, wasn't planning on it.

Him: Why not?

Me: I drive him to school every day - can't you pick him up from the bus stop - eight minutes away?? (Whereas, I drive nearly 20 minutes, or more, out of my way to drop him off every weekday morning!)

Him: I knew it. You always have an answer for everything.

These are the times when you actually wish (though secretly fear) that he had a license and a car.

Hmmm. Reminds me of when M-C was small. If you smelled it; you changed it. It's amazing how ones sense of smell can go dead at times . . . .

Sportsmanship and listening to your mom

Okay, I get it. Football is a competitive sport. I know this. But, really?? Where is the sportsmanship?

So far, our jv team has not done well. In fact it's been pretty bad. Granted, it's only been three games - but . . . oh my what games.

Last week, we were the visitors. Needless to say, the visitor side was pretty sparse, as the game was nearly an hour away from the school. The home side was pretty packed, as expected. What was not expected was the entire varsity team sitting over there jeering and yelling and being obnoxious.

At first, I thought it was just the mom in me. But later, hubby confided that he too thought they were obnoxious and annoying - and was extremely irritated with their behavior. Particularly since we were losing so spectacularly.

Yes, we holler for our team. Yes, we tell them to "take him down." But we never get ugly or obnoxious. And, if we are winning by an extremely wide margin - we don't go the extra mile to shove their faces in it.

But karma has a way of coming around to bite you in the butt. Our varsity team took to the field opposing their varsity team. The same yahoos that were acting out. We totally creamed them. Take that you little snots. I wasn't there - but Man-Child and hubby were and they were thrilled to say the least.

But where were the coaches? The parents? I mean come on. It's a game. It doesn't need to be that vicious at this level. If I were to catch my son behaving in this manner - well, suffice it to say, it wouldn't happen again.

On a happy note; it appears that Man-Child may actually be listening to me after all. He and hubby were discussing the team; of course. Hubby said that this was a young team and they would need to build. M-C told him, astutely, that there was no chemistry in this team. That there was constant arguing in the huddle, etc. He told them - you don't have to like each other - but we have to work together for the time being. My words. Repeated. Almost verbatim.

I have told him the same thing whenever he runs into teachers or people that he doesn't care for. You have to deal with them; you may not like them - but you have to deal and work together.

What a proud moment for me. He does listen!! Yay.

And hopefully our team will improve as the season goes on - because otherwise, it will long, quiet rides back to the house. M-C has such high expectations for himself and his team. Which is good in one way, bad in another.

I've told him - as long as you've done the best you can - then you should be proud. Do you think that lesson has sunk in? I certainly hope so.

P.S. - Coaches?? Really?? If even I can see that you keep repeating the same play over and over - don't you think the opposition can see it too?? I'm just saying . . .

Are You Ready for Some Football??

No. Most definitely not. My two guys (Man-Child and hubby) live, eat and breathe football. Whether it is football season or not. During the off-season they talk about the possibilities of the up-coming season. They talk about stats. They talk about this player or that. They talk about trades.

During football season . . . well, I might as well not even exist.

Although, I do a LOT of shopping during football season that doesn't fall under hubby's radar. So that's a plus.

But football season can be kinda lonely.

Take today, for instance, the first day of the season. I don't think anyone has spoken to me directly. Oh well, except for the moment when Man-Child declared excitedly to me, "Mom! The Giants won!" Hooray. All that means to me is that the boys in my house will be in a good mood.

I am most definitely uber-sports mom when Man-Child is playing; otherwise, I couldn't care less.

I could probably even deal with football, if it weren't for the annoying announcers - emmm, probably not. I can never keep up with where the ball is actually. And I really don't care.

So in the meantime, I am currently planning for my "Hooray, football is over" party to take place right after the Super Bowl - some four or five months from now. It will be spectacular!

He's So Curious

Ah Man-Child. He is so darn curious about this blog. It's driving him crazy.

That may be one of the reasons I'm keeping it to myself (ha-ha).

He came up behind me earlier as I reading another blog - and said is that yours?

Me: Nope.

M-C: Whose is it?

Me: Just a blog I read.

M-C: Well, who these people (reading off some names)?

Me: Her children.

M-C: Well, what kind of names are those? (they were the names of cartoon characters)

Me: Made up ones, because people try to protect their identities.

M-C: What name do you use for me?

Me: Man-Child.

M-C: I don't like that; I think of myself more as a James.

The questions went on and on. So, why do I keep this little blog to myself? It's not like I'm spilling any deep, dark secrets here.

Why? Because it's mine. Mine, all mine. Here is a safe, fun place to let it all out. Whether it is complaining about them, work or other people. It is a great place to talk to someone who understands, about my shoe obsession. To brag on M-C; to bitch about my husband. Whatever it is that I have to say - I can say it here.

I don't have to censor myself while worrying what so and so might think. Or worry if they read it if it might hurt their feelings. This is why I keep it to myself. That and the fact it drives M-C crazy.

But having the ego of a teenager; he's completely convinced it's all about him and that I must be telling y'all all kinds of things. So if you ever meet him and he asks you - just smile a secretive smile. It will drive him wild. Yeah, I'm kinda mean like that.

But once M-C discovered that I'm in contact with people "across the pond" he badgered me to no end. He wants to know whether or not the water in your toilets goes down the same way ours does; or if it's opposite. The way you drive on the other side of the road. ::sigh:: So if anyone has an answer for him; please let me know. I told you he was curious - and not just about this blog.

Who are these people? And why are they in my house?

Really? Do I need to be subjected to this every time I come home? Clothes, books, shoes etc. - everywhere? It's a mud room not a dressing room!! How many times do I have to say that? Are you stripping in there or what? And if so, why?

And any flat surface? Forget about it. Any pristine surface is immediately piled with old newspapers, mail, a voo-doo doll (yes, you read that right), a wax cross from a baptism (yes, next to the voo-doo doll - I'm still waiting for the lightning to strike from high for that one), etc.

Really? Am I the only one in this household that 1) knows how to file 2) knows how to shred 3) knows how to throw things out or put them in the recycle bin, 4) and/or put things where they belong?

Hmmm. If I'm the only one that has this very specialized knowledge - then I am definitely underpaid.

And they wonder why I "nag" them all the time . . . hmmm, it's a mystery to me.

I’m Totally Flabbergasted . . .

Imagine my surprise when I cruised on over to Chic Mama's to see what she had to say today and saw that she had won an award!  I was so very thrilled for her as she is definitely deserving.

Then imagine my surprise when I read the post and realized that she had forwarded the award to me along with five others.  Me?  Little ole me? The others I feel sure are deserving; but me??  I am humbled and honored.  And also a little panicky.

What to wear?  Should I go shopping?  What about the speech?  I don’t speak well in public.  What?  Oh yes, you can’t see or hear me.  So I can do this in my pj’s and a speech isn’t necessary.  Whew!  Thank goodness for small favors.

So thank you Chic Mama for being kind and gracious enough to bestow this award on me.  I am truly humbled and appreciative. 

As I have ventured carefully out into the blog world I have been pleasantly surprised by all the friendship, kindness, inspiration, and uplifting comments.  I truly value all those I’ve met and yet to meet.  So thank you all.

Now, according to the rules (as I understand them) I am to bestow this beautiful award to five deserving blogs.  This will be the tough part – because there are so many that should have this honor. 

My picks are . . . . (drum roll please)

ThatGirl at Forty Not Out – because I love to read her blogs & tweets.  And she is a shoe-fancier as am I.

Summer at Le Musings of Moi – if you haven’t checked out her Fashion Friday’s blog you are definitely missing out.

Jaci at Ravings of a Mad Housewife – she is too funny.

Texan Mama at Who Put Me In Charge of These People? – she’s in Texas and I’m from Texas; need I say more?

Everyone over at Mad Manic Mamas – love their “community” style blog about teenagers – living with them, dealing with them and trying not to kill them.

I wish I could have awarded more – and re-awarded Chic Mama because she is a lovely woman who is stronger than she thinks.

Thanks again – and thanks for letting me become part of such a wonderful community.

Remembering 9/11/01

I’m sure we all remember where we were on this date.

I had just started a new job.  I’d only been here about two months.  Man-Child was still a little guy only in the 2nd grade.

When we got news of the first plane hitting the tower – we were all in shock.  At that time, we all assumed it was a terrible accident of some sort. 

Many of the people in this building are actually from New York and had transferred when the company moved here.  So most of my co-workers still had family and friends there.

Then the second plane hit and we learned that it was in fact a terrorist act.  There were tears, screams, frantic phone calls.

Just as I was learning of all this the phone rang.  It was M-C’s school.  He’d had an accident.  Of course, my heart began to race even more.  Turns out it was a minor accident but they needed me to come get him.

I raced out of the office.  Driving to the school, I was listening to the radio, with tears just streaming down my face.  Then I heard about the 3rd plane and that it had hit the White House.  Of course, we all now know that wasn’t the case.  Just a bit of mis-information that was flying all around.  Turns out it was the Pentagon.  That didn’t make it any easier. 

When I arrived at the front office the administrative staff was tuned into the news.  But the teacher’s were doing their very best to keep it a normal day for the students.  In fact, I’m not even sure they made an announcement to the students.   It would have gone over their heads at the time anyway as they were all elementary students.

They would learn soon enough once they got home and began to see the horrible images coming across the TV screens.

I’m actually grateful that I had to pick the boy up.  Hubby came home early and we tended to Man-Child’s wounds (he had fallen and had some rocks embedded in his palms – fun stuff to try and remove) and spent the remainder of the day together.  I don’t know how I would have made it through the day at work.  I was too devastated.

Needless to say the graphic images kept running in a constant loop on the TV screen.  I finally had to tell hubby – enough.  M-C didn’t need to see or hear anymore and neither did I.  I had the loop running through my head already.  I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.  And then cried some more.

I would like to take a moment to salute all the brave firemen, policemen and ordinary citizens who ran into the inferno to try and save whomever they could.  A salute to all those who volunteered time, service, money or food to those rescuers.  A salute to all the passengers of Flight 93 who brought down the plane in a field; rather than letting them take out another target.

You are the true representatives of what America is all about. 

Yes we, as citizens, are going through a very divisive time in our country.  But, as these brave people have shown, time after time, when it comes right down to it we can band together for the common good.

What did I do in the aftermath?  I held my family and friends just a little bit closer.  I cried.  I went to church and prayed.  To this day, remembering 9/11 brings my heart to a standstill and tears to my eyes.  And we were the lucky ones; we have family up North and family who works at the Pentagon.  No one was hurt.

Here it is 8 years later on day eerily reminiscent of that fateful day.  A beautiful day with a cloudless blue sky; a day where you just can not imagine the unthinkable.  And we fight on.  We fight to end terrorism the world over, not just on American soil.  Is war the answer?  To fight violence with violence?  I don’t know.  But what I do know is that terrorism must be eradicated world-wide.  We’ve barely been touched when compared to other places that must deal with terrorism on a daily basis.  It must stop.

So today I pray.  I pray for all rescue personnel who put their lives on the line everyday.  I pray for the soldiers stationed all over the world.  I pray for all those who’ve died and for those left behind.  But most of all, I pray for peace. 

Conversations with Man-Child

Once again, this post is inspired by Mama Kat and her weekly prompts.  Hop on over and join in the fun.  This week I’ve chosen number 5; because in this household there are many entertaining conversations.

Driving in the car usually brings about some wacky conversations.

M-C:  I wish I could fly.  Wouldn’t that be cool?

Me:  Um-humm.

M-C:  The only thing is if you were flying through the clouds and came out and then there was a plane in your path.

Me:  Yes, that could be a problem.

M-C:  So, if you could fly you’d have stay low.  But then that might freak people out.  So I wish I could fly and be invisible.

M-C:  Being invisible would be great; wouldn’t it?

Me:  Yes, it would.

M-C:  You could do whatever you want. 

Me:  Hmmm.  It’d be kinda hard to get a job if you were invisible.

M-C:  You wouldn’t need a job.  You could go into a store and just take stuff if you wanted.

Me:  No you couldn’t.  Because then it would look like the stuff was floating.

M-C: No because whatever you touched would be invisible too. (told you this kid has an answer for everything).

Me:  It’d be cool to be invisible and drive a car.

M-C:  You wouldn’t need a car because you could fly.

Me:  No, imagine some guy is driving down the road and sees this car next to him with no one in it.  Can you imagine that phone call to the police – there’s a car barreling down the road all by itself!  Sir, have you been drinking?  No, really!

M-C:  That would be funny.

And no, Man-Child isn’t six; he’s about to be 15 and these are the types of conversations we have.

LOL – just remembered another one – it’s short, I promise.

Sitting on the back porch – me reading, him on the computer.

M-C:  Did you hear that?

Me:  What?

M-C:  A squirrel just fell out of a tree.

Me:  What???

M-C:  Yup, I heard his little high-pitched scream as was falling through the trees.

Me:  ::sigh::

The Grass Only Thinks It’s Winning

When talking to a friend of mine this morning; she mentioned how therapeutic it is to weed her beds.  Therapeutic, huh.  Interesting.

Currently, I’m into gardening.  Let me clarify.  I’m not into gardening, per se.  I’m in the middle of landscaping my yard.  By myself.  Which is fine – I don’t mind the planning, the digging, etc.  Never been big on the maintenance end though.  But then, in my previous home maintenance was basically in the form of watering and pulling a few weeds here and there.

But at this house, for some reason, we don’t have too many weeds in the beds.  They are all over the freakin’ yard though.  More weeds than grass, actually.  This is not my problem as I don’t do grass – hubby does.  And I’ve pointed the weeds out – so hopefully he’ll jump right on that (yeah, right!  When pigs fly).  Ahem, I digress (yes, I know I do that often – no need to point it out).

So, I figured I could use some therapy.  Upon returning home from work, I put on my yard clothes and head down for some therapy. 

I discovered that I don’t have a weed problem in my beds.  I have a freakin’ grass problem!!

Explain to me how grass that refuses to grow in the yard is now growing in my beds.  Even though I put down the black shit landscaping material before I even started the project!!!!

Yes, you read that correctly.  The grass is actually poking giant, gaping holes through the landscaping material and coming up and trying to encroach upon my beds that I spent HOURS slaving over.

My conclusion – I have passive aggressive grass.  This is the exact same grass that should be growing in my yard but isn’t.  Instead it has decided to grow in my beds. 

So instead of spending a therapeutic hour weeding – I spent a frustrating hour pulling grass up by the roots and flinging it into the yard – in hopes that it will get the message that is where it is supposed to grow.  We’ll see. 

As I was de-grassing the beds, I informed the grass that (what? You don’t talk to your grass?  What’s wrong with you?) despite the fact that it had done whatever it pleased before we built this house, I was in charge now and it better recognize this fact.

So you can bet that between me and Google (and a friend with a landscaper husband) I will beat this grass one way or another.  ‘Cause you know what?  Grass ain’t got Google.

Attitude

This entry is so inspired by Liz at ...but then I had kids... Thanks Liz. For inspiring me in so many ways.

It really, truly is all about your attitude.

I admit it, for a major portion of my life, I had a horrible outlook on life. As a teen, I was convinced I wouldn't live to see 30. How horrible is that? Imagine my surprise as I embark upon my 40's.

Even after my beautiful boy was born, I still had periods of irritability and was frequently unhappy whenever I experienced a lack of control. This causes me much regret. Especially when you realize as a new mother - you have no control.

I can't pinpoint when it finally sunk in to my brain - that you can choose to be happy. It sounds so very trite. But it's so very true.

If you decide one day, to wake up and say, "Yes, my life is not perfect, but . . . I have so many things to be thankful for; such as my beautiful son and my fabulous husband." You must decide how to view things in your life. As plusses or minuses.

Several years ago, when I was visiting my home-state, a friend commented that I wasn't as unhappy as I used to be. Back when I lived there I complained - a lot. I was constantly tired and never seemed to be happy about anything.

It was clear that I was no longer the person I used to be. Yes, apparently she liked me even though I was a pessimist and constantly irritated; but it seemed, she liked me even more as the person I had become. That day, my eyes were really opened. I had been a shrill, unhappy individual. Now, I was a person who was happy; really happy. I was a different person. Someone who embraced her life and didn't let set-backs set her back.

Granted, there were childhood issues that most definitely attributed to my outlook. But you know, as I have matured I have realized that no matter what issues you have had to deal with in your childhood that does not have to rule, or define, who you decide to become.

Life is definitely not easy and you shouldn't turn a blind eye to trouble; but in the every day minutiae of life you get to decide; is it a good day or isn't it?

As I have embraced this new attitude my eyes have been opened to just how many unhappy and negative people there are - and how contagious their attitudes can be. Luckily, a cheerful, optimistic attitude can be contagious too. And I try really hard to infect as many people as I can on a daily basis.

What Would You Do?

So, I have this friend (yes, really. It's not me. Because I know how I'd react) - whose 15 year old son bascially told her this on Sunday:

That from here on out he would be coming and going as he pleases.
That letting her know where he is and when he'd be coming home is too restrictive.

I say "basically" because after these two my mind went a little crazy and I can't remember all the other bullshit he told her.

You've heard me speak of her before - she's the single mom who is way too lenient on her kids.

My first thought would have been to stop the car and began beating him. My second thought would have been to stop the car and tell him to get out. If he can't respect me or the rules of my household - just get out. I seriously think this would have cured him immediately.

I was in total shock. I couldn't believe 1) that he actually said this to her and 2) that he would think she is too restrictive. She doesn't even give the little brat a curfew! Believe me, his life would be totally different if he lived here.

I told her to give him Man-Child's number so he could get a different perspective on "restrictive."

Hubby suggested that 1) she tell him that if he can't follow her rules then he needs to go live with his father (which I think is absolutely brilliant since he and his father don't even talk!) and 2) if she didn't want to do that then he would absolutely go to her house and talk to the heathen himself (and he's never even met the child).

So, in this scenario, what would you do? I'm just curious to see what you all have to say.

**I've had to come back and add more - because this just incensed me to no end - that I simply cannot stop thinking about it.

If this little (I hate to say it but . . .) shit lived in my house . . . OMG. Life for him would be total hell. Come to think of it, I'm ready to start a boot camp for several children of people I know.

I realize I am not the **perfect** parent - but come on. Really? Where are we as a society when our children think that they can get away with things like this?

Man-Child knows. Oh, he knows. Since he was a baby, I would point out inappropriate behaviors and ask him - "What would happen if you tried to pull that?" And he knew the answer - immediately. In fact, there were times when he'd point out inappropriate behaviors to me and inform me what would happen if he'd tried to pull that. And you can bet that when I relay this story to him that his eyes will get big and he will think of what the consequences for him would have been if he tried to pull it.

Come on people. Man up (as they say) and be a parent. Children do NOT rule the household. No, it is not easy to be tough on your children - but you do it FOR your children. So that they will be an asset to society - not a liability.

Okay - second time today I'm climbing down from my soapbox. Whew, I'm getting tired - it's almost like exercise. I'll try not to come back and rant some more. I'll let you all do it now.

I’m Climbing Up On My Soapbox Now

It’s done.  It’s over.  Now some of those people can, hopefully, realize how moronic they sounded.

President Obama made his speech to the school children.

And no, he didn’t try to turn them all into little socialists.  He didn’t try to convert them all into Democrats so that they could go home and convert their parents.

Not a peep was made about the whole healthcare issue.

Nary a one political agenda was raised.

Nope.  All he did was tell the children to stay in school and work hard.

Huh, who would have thunk it?  What else did you honestly expect him to talk to school children about??

I am not an Obama fan.  I don’t agree with all his ideas, policies, etc.  Heck, I don’t even know about some of them.  And some I do.  

But I do believe that the President deserves respect - period.  And, unfortunately, he is not getting that respect.  And this latest hoopla over what he might say to the kids is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of.  In the news this morning, the anchors were saying that our schools would be showing the address and that if you didn’t want your children to hear it to send a note in to excuse them.

Are you freakin’ kidding me? 

I have read the speech (you can find it here).  It was a good speech.  It’s the same kind of speech I give Man-Child.  Work hard.  You are the future of the country.  It’s the same kind of speech all parents give their off-spring.

I really don’t understand what all the upset was about.  It’s certainly not like he was the first president to ever say – hey, I want to send a message to the kids.

Why wouldn’t you want your children to hear what call to action the President had to say to them?

Children aren’t voters so why would he try to push a political agenda on them?

All this fear-mongering is not moving this country forward; it’s moving it backward.

Climbing down off my soapbox now.

 

Please do not post comments trying to change my mind or anything derogatory – I am not looking for a political debate – I don’t even know enough to debate even if I wanted to.

Lazy Cow is not my title anymore! (at least for this week)

So yesterday I admitted to one and all that I've become a lazy cow. Apparently this public humiliation (and the fact that I had today off, hubby was working and Man-Child slept the morning away) actually forced me to clean out the closet.

I've been dreading the closet. Really, really dreading it.

When we moved in almost a year ago, everything I owned was just shoved willy-nilly inside to be dealt with at a later date. Certainly, I had more important things to deal with at the time.

But this morning I was productive. I even made Man-Child chocolate-chip muffins - which he didn't partake of until very late morning; practically afternoon. ::sigh:: This from the child that absolutely refused to sleep ever when he was small (no, I am not exaggerating) which made me completely incoherent and insane. . . but I digress . . .

I hauled out six - yes, count 'em, SIX - large trash bags full of clothes, bags, belts, scarves, shoes. I'm now trying to determine if I want to deal with trying to place them with a consignment store or just giving it all to Goodwill. Knowing me, I'll take the easy route and just drop them at the Goodwill; so I really don't even know why I'm having this internal debate. But it's habit. I talk to myself all the time; sometimes I agree with myself, sometimes I don't. (And no, I am not completely crazy. Yet.)

Then I dropped by the local hardware store for a few organizational items; and viola! The closet is complete. I feel much better now.


Much better than before!

Notice all the empty hangers? Evidence of all that was bagged up and moved out.

Whew. I feel much better now. Except for the fact that the pantry is now calling for attention. And those damn baseboards.

Ah well, no more planned days off until Thanksgiving. I guess they'll have to wait.

Lazy, lazy, lazy

I have become so lazy that it's intolerable.

I need to clean out my closet. Instead I turn a blind eye.

I need to clean my house. Except for the very basics, I turn a blind eye.

I need to keep up with my far-flung friends with more than an occasional email. Yet I don't.

What is going on? I wish I knew.

Is it just the summer? Living out on the back porch with my books and computer?

I used to be a whirlwind. Constantly cleaning, sorting, arranging. Now, I notice that it needs to be done. But I don't want to deal.

I'm still fairly happy. I still care whether or not family and friends are happy. So what is going on?

Why am I not the complete clean-freak I used to be? How come, all of a sudden, good-enough is fine with me?

Just this weekend; when I had Friday to myself (something that never happens), I was deciding should I clean or shop? I decided to clean the bathrooms and water the plants - call it a day - and go shopping.

In the past, the house would need to be spotless before I did anything else.

My hubby asked me what has happened. I don't have an answer. Not that he was complaining. He's learned long ago; if you complain - the job becomes yours. Besides the fact, that he is helpful around the house. Usually, though you must ask in order for it to be done. No initiative here. But, he does do all the cooking - so he does get a pass most of the time.

So what - there's dust on the shelves? So what - the pantry isn't in complete order? Why don't I care if the baseboards haven't been cleaned since we moved in (a year ago!)?

But I still expect high standards from everyone else in the house? ::sigh:: How can I expect so much from them when I'm not performing on the same level?

What is happening to me? Am I mellowing out? Or . . . am I losing it?

Or . . . maybe . . . I've realized that I have better things to do?

I don't know. Just please tell me I'm not going crazy. This is not the person I used to be. I can't determine whether or not this is a good thing.

I’m NOT a dog-hater, really . . .

Before you even begin to judge me.  I did not grow up with pets.  Any pets that we may have had (by total accident – including a duck) were kept outside. 

As a result, as a small child I was terrified (yes, totally and completely terrified) of dogs (and ducks).

Today, as an adult, I am tolerant of most dogs (as long as they don’t sniff my crotch and are, relatively, quiet).

BUT . . . my neighbor’s dog is about to drive me completely insane!!!

When we built our house I was ecstatic.  We have this wonderful screened-in back porch that I can utilize for most of the year.  I’m out here all the time (as I am now). 

Unfortunately for me, the neighbors have this dog.  This very, very cute dog.  Who cannot shut up for one freakin’ minute (as I type he is yapping his fool head off!). 

I have timed how long that damn dog can yap.  It’s gone on and on interminably. 

Finally, it comes to the neighbor’s notice that the dog is now hoarse from all the damn yapping.  So then, not only do I hear the dog – I hear the owners.  Yelling at the dog.  Non-freaking-stop.

And this, my friends, is how I enjoy my evenings on my lovely screened-in porch. 

Pray for me.

Maybe I should get an iPod and keep those earbuds in the whole time I’m out here??  Would that help???

 

 

PS – I think Hubby is intentionally drinking all my wine.  Which would definitely help drown out the yapping . . . again, I think he is trying to kill me by omission.

She makes me wonder . . .

I mentioned a woman in my previous post that wears winter clothing in the dead of summer.  And who won’t look people in the eye.  I know there is a story there.  But I don’t think we’ll ever get it.

She’s seems to have an obsessive-compulsive disorder.  Every morning she comes in and disinfects her desk.  She washes her hands more frequently and more thoroughly than a brain surgeon.  She refuses to take a cup from the stack next to the coffee pot.  She must get a un-opened sleeve; open it and take one from the middle. 

When she gets a snack from the vending machine – to put in the above-mentioned cup – she will open it, put the snack in the cup and then wash her hands (because she’s touched the vending machine, money & the snack bag).

She has repeatedly refused to give her address and phone number to anyone in the department (we have an open list for emergencies, Christmas cards, etc.).  No one even has an idea about what area she might live in.  Once we finally convinced her to give an address - she gave a PO Box.  Still, no phone number.  Once she was out for several days due to a bad fall – no one – not even her boss – could call to see how she was doing.

I realize that it is her prerogative to wear what she wants, and to disinfect everything in sight if she so desires and to keep to herself and her private life private.  That’s her right.

But it has to make one wonder.  Is she in the witness protection program?  Is she running from the law?  Is she hiding from an abusive ex-husband ala Sleeping With the Enemy?  Is she a serial-killer?  And after she is caught, we will all say “But she was so quiet!” 

So, in the meantime, I’ll just keep my eye on her.  Cause you just never know – those quiet ones are the ones you gotta worry about. . .

See what happens when you have an over-active imagination and a slow day??

Just a bit of friendly advice. . .

Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop is the inspiration behind this post.  I have chosen number five – Share your friendly advice to someone you think needs it.  Hmmm, as I have much advice to offer this could turn into a very lengthy post . . . 

Just a little bit of fashion advice for a few of my co-workers (you know who you are!).

1.  Do not, under any circumstances, EVER wear nylons with open-toed shoes.  It is unbelievably tacky.  And though I love you dearly, it makes me cringe.

2.  Please don’t wear your pants so tight.  I really don’t want to see everything you’ve got; and neither does any one else.

3.  White shoes.  Really?  Very few outfits require solid white shoes.  The ones you wear with them are just wrong.

4.  Please, I am begging you, wear skirts that are just a bit longer.  You are far too mature to be trying to pull off that look.

5.  And you – I wonder if there is any hope at all.  Why are you wearing black tights, corduroy skirts, and a sweater in the dead heat of the summer?  That, and the fact you won’t look anyone in the eye, has me very suspicious of you.  And please, comb your hair.  This is a professional office.

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Moving on.  This bit of advice is for our “bigwigs.”  Please act a little more human.  Just because you make more money than you will ever know what to do with does not give you the right to walk around here like you’ve got a stick up your . . . well, anyway.  You are not a god – you are human – just like us peons.  Treat us as such, please.  Oh, and that grimace you think passes for a smile. . . if you can’t offer a sincere smile then please don’t subject us that rictus.

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To my son’s school.  I love you, I really do.  That’s why I pay an exorbitant amount of money to you each month for him to attend.  So why then must I BUY his books each year?  Really?  This is high school – NOT college.  What exactly are you doing with all that tuition money that you can’t provide the books?  And then, this really chaps my hide, how come you don’t use said books that you have forced us to buy?  Instead you use worksheets?  You also extort money from us constantly.  Why? 

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To my two dear friends.  I love you but really – this not speaking to each other over a silly misunderstanding is very juvenile.  Kiss and make up already.

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And you, Mr. Middle-Management kinda guy; for all that is holy – please quit micro-managing!!  We know how to do our jobs so you do yours and let us do ours.  Also, please ask your wife to refrain from calling 50 times a day.  Thank you.

Okay, I warned you this would be a lengthy post.  And I could go on and on.  But because no really wants to hear everything I have to say I’ll stop here.

Are You Freakin’ Kidding Me??

Have you seen this story?  http://www.cbsatlanta.com/news/20684677/detail.html

Where does he get off?! 

And what really gets me is that he was a in a WalMart.  Walk away.  Some of those stores are so huge it surely wouldn’t have been an issue to move to another part of the store.  It’s not like you were at the movies with the kid crying right next to you.  And even if it were – you still do not have the right to lay a hand upon that child.

The utter gall of this man absolutely astounds me.  Obviously, he has issues of some kind.  Because normal-thinking people would never in a million years think that it is okay to slap someone else’s child – particularly a stranger’s child.

He’s being held, without bond, on charges of child cruelty in the first degree.  It’s a felony.  Damn-straight it should be a felony and this guy deserves to do some hard time and required anger-management courses.

What is this world coming to?

He Makes Me Laugh

Man-Child was definitely put on this earth to make me laugh.

Even as a wee one he could make me laugh just by the expressions on his face.

I'm convinced that (as hubby says) God makes 'em cute to keep you from hurting them.

This must be true because I can't count the number of times I was ready to kill him or give him away. Yes, I sound like a horrible mother. But, really?? How many of you can honestly say you haven't felt the same? Don't lie.

This child of mine is smart. So smart. He has a ready argument for EVERYTHING. Since the day he could talk, I swear. Unfortunately, at least with me, he hasn't learned that sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut. This is why God gave him his father. To tell him to zip it when he needs to - - before he is maimed; or worse.

When he is in the mood to actually speak to us, his parents - the ones who have loved him unconditionally and, I might add, feed his unsatiable appetite - he is quite articulate and amazing at the topics he is willing to discuss. How many teenagers do you know are willing to discuss Neo-Nazi's (apparently there was recently a "meeting" held in our town - fun); politics (he's very firm in his opinions on this); sports (ad-nauseum); and classical music (by this I mean music from our generations; which isn't oldies music by any stretch of the imagination! Well, maybe hubby's is . . .).

When he isn't in the mood to speak all we get is grunts and groans. And plenty of eye-rolls.

This boy of mine amazes me in so many ways. How can one person be so smart, so exasperating, so witty, so lazy, so committed to his views, so lackesdasical, and so exasperating?

As much as I miss the tiny little guy he used to be - who loved kisses and hugs - I can't wait to see the kind of man he is growing into. For all the mistakes and missteps I've made as a parent he truly is a fine young man.

And he makes me laugh. On a daily basis. Today, his father asked him how the girls were treating him. Without missing a beat he said, "Like a KING!"

Then . . .

"here King, here." (referring to calling a dog, for those of you that don't get it)

I rolled on the floor. He's too funny, my "little" man.

The Road To Hell is Paved With Good Intentions . . .

How in the world did I get myself involved in this? 

Our church has a ministry called Visiting Angels.  It’s a group of about 13 folks who rotate bringing food once a week to our priests.  It’s a great little ministry and my hubby is involved.  When he got involved he asked me to be the contact person for him – that’s where this all began to slowly go haywire.  So when the last coordinator announced that she couldn’t do it anymore because of time constraints, I volunteered.  I thought this would be any easy, stress-free way to give my time and since I am very organized it shouldn’t be any problem.

I’ve only been doing this for about 2 months now.  I planned the schedule for 6 months out.  Dusted my hands and said great that’s done until the new year.  Wrong, wrong, wrong! 

First I get an email from the previous coordinator – seems like she forgot to tell me that so-and-so is no longer on the list.  Fine.  Re-work the schedule – send it back out.  Two days later – I get another email – seems one of the volunteers died.  Ok, no problem.  Re-work the schedule – send it back out.  Later the same day, another email.  Seems the previous coordinator forgot to mention that so-and-so volunteers – but doesn’t have email, so I’ll need to add her in somehow.  I ignored this email. 

Well today, I’ve been thrown another curveball.  Apparently, we have visitors coming in on two separate occasions and will need extra meals.  Fine – I send out a request.  Oh my hell.  Apparently, I confused the hell out of everyone and had to go back reassuring them of their time slots.  Then, I get an email telling me that this person can’t provide meals anymore.  Now I have to take her out of the rotation and find someone to take her place next month.

This was supposed to be easy and no-stress remember?  These people are making me pull my hair out.  This should be a 20 minute thing once every 6 months or so.  But it has morphed into this thing where I am thinking about it all the time.  And every time I send an email I get a response that throws a curve into everything.  Every, single time.  And once that response throws everything out of whack, I have to send out another email explaining why everything is changing.

This gig is making me question my sanity and my organizational skills.  I’m sure that with every email I send out; they must be thinking “Who put this idiot in charge?”

I’m truly not an idiot.  I do know what I’m doing.  I swear.  Who could have foreseen all this craziness?  All I wanted was to do something good – that’s it.  Now I cringe every time I see an email from one of these folks cause I know it’s just gonna give me a headache.

So, what do you think?  Will I get bonus points for all this after I – well, you know – die?  I sure hope so.