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.