Why does hubby say I have blonde roots?

I have brown hair. But hubby insists that I have blonde roots. I really don’t see it but here are a few of the instances he has given in support of this absurd notion:

 

• I left the car running during dinner out one night and completely freaked out when I couldn't find my keys. Imagine my chagrin when they were found in the ignition – with the car running. Luckily the car was unlocked. No, I was not drinking.
• I once told him that he needed to take me to the hospital because I was positive I was having a stroke. Why? Because I couldn't see clearly out of one of my eyes. Turned out, I neglected to take out a contact and then put my glasses on. This does tend to blur the vision (again not drinking).
• I watched him walk out the back door and then screamed like a crazy woman when he came back in because I wasn't used to seeing any one use that door and figured he was an axe murderer. (not drinking)
• I once told him I was pregnant; but had read the results wrong. The next time I told him I was pregnant he asked to read the results for himself. (definitely not drinking)

Hmmm, after re-reading these a pattern is beginning to emerge – I think it must be the not-drinking that causes these episodes. Quick! Somebody pour me a glass of wine! LOL.

 

I’m sure these things could happen to anybody. They are just minor details. I’m not a ditz, really. I am a smart, organized woman who has her “moments”. Really. 

 

So why am I sharing – This is finally my 100th post! To see my most recent ditzy moment read here.

More Ramblings and Rantings (and I am NOT spacey!)

So, you all remember how I was flipping out because there was only 81 days left until Christmas.?
Well today at lunch I went to TJ Maxx to see if I could find anything for gifts.  I found these little beauties for the girls at the office for only about $2.00 each!  (Score!!)

Can you see the little snowflakes embossed on each one?  So cute.  Put some scented candles in and done.
When I got home I decided to inventory my gift closet.  What???  You don’t have a gift closet?  Get one, immediately!  Best invention EVER!
If memory served me correctly – I had seriously depleted the gift closet last year.  Turns out I had.  BUT – I had begun to replenish it during all the after-Christmas sales last year.  Which means that I know have enough crap stuff to cover the girls through next Christmas and maybe even a couple of birthdays.

Inventory includes:
4 candle holders
5 birds (very cute with “wish” etched in them)
2 silver candles
2 snowmen candles
Noel ornaments (each ornament is a letter)
Peace ornaments (same deal)
2 jingle bell wreaths
6 mini loaf pans
Joy ornament in silver
4 gingerbread-looking ornaments
2 sets of pretty magnets
2 Nutcrackers
2 sets of notecards with the initial K (sooo know whose getting those)
Snowman soap dispenser
Crystal votive
Crystal candy dish
1 set of three jeweled boxes
4 sets of purple gloves
4 sets of bath salts
Christmas platter
So I’m pretty well stocked for the girls at the office and any of those “what-if” gifts.  Whew.  I feel a little better already.  I even made the appointment for Man-Child’s portrait today.  There’s still decisions to be made about the party and THE list.  ::sigh::
In other news – this is my 99th post.  Will I do another “huge” 100th post?  Doubt it.  Maybe I’ll just re-post what I thought was my 100th post.  We’ll see.
And Man-Child just informed me that I was “so spacey that not even NASA wanted to explore my brain.”  Thanks.  Thanks a lot.  Do I really deserve this?  No, I don’t think so.  Because for the record I am NOT spacey (I do have my moments – but I’m NOT spacey – although hubby tells me I have blonde roots – what the hell?).  Believe me when I tell you I am the most non-spacey of this bunch that I live with!
Doctor’s office also informed me today that yes they have the flu shots for Man-Child BUT they are only giving them out on Tuesdays and Thursdays between 2:00 pm and 4:00.  WTF?  Really?  And when are working parents and children in school supposed to come and get them??  I’m getting very irritated with our doctor’s office.  I may write a letter (I’m famous for these – just ask Northwest Airlines (3 page letter) and BellSouth (six page letter)!).  So even though the shots are free through our health insurance – I guess I’ll be taking Man-Child to the local pharmacy – unless I can convince the doctor’s office to re-arrange their schedule.
AND . . . yesterday, some crazy woman absolutely REFUSED to let me merge – even though I had my blinker on and everything.  I almost either a) smashed into her car or b) run up over the curb and into someone’s yard.  WTF?  Really??  And then it turned out that she was in front of me practically all the way home.  So – you know me – I proceeded to have a hostile conversation with her all the way home.  Which may or may not have included expletives. 
I’m so tired of dealing with idiots.  I’m off for a glass of wine and some relaxation.  Thanks for “listening” to the rantings and ramblings.

Okay Now I Feel Like An Idiot

Apparently Blogger counts your "drafts" as posts too.

That means my last post wasn't actually my 100th post.

And after all that linking.

Damn.

I think it counts anyway.

It’s The BIG One….

I've worried over this and worried over this.  This is my 100th post.  Yeah, I know I can't believe it either.

I wanted to either have something deep and profound to say or something absolutely hilarious.

Sorry.

I got nothing.

So I grabbed a glass of wine and played solitaire.  Don't judge.

Solitaire and chardonnay help me to think.

And this is what I've decided - I'm dedicating this post to all my followers friends.  If it weren't for you - I wouldn't be here.  (Well, technically, that's not true - I'd probably still be here rambling and ranting all to myself; which I do on a daily basis anyway.  But I'd be lonely!!  At least this way, I'm not talking to myself!  I'm talking to you!)

So a big shout out to:

Liz at but-then-i-had-kids who was my very first friend and she loves shoes almost as much as me. 

Chic Mama I’ve become very involved in her blog (no, I’m not stalking you! I just want to put you in my pocket and bring you home with me!)

Sandy at One Day At A Time

Mom’s Web at Moms Peace Bites

Life with Kaishon

A Woman of No Importance

Modern Mom at How To Survive Life in the Suburbs

Yummy Mammy at Secret Diaries of Wannabe Yummy Mammy

Margaret at Margaret aka Fact Woman

Ms. Lovely at The Ideologies of Melissa

Posh Totty

Mellisarock

Sandy Calico at Baby Baby

Blasé at Think and Laugh, Not Necessarily In That Order

Chapman Crazy House

Cholessa at Choleesasworld (sorry I haven’t visited before but I just now found your link!)

Lisa (I can’t find your link on your profile page!)

Miss Mel at Night Light Stories

Lee at Weber's World - The Way I See It

Bina at Just Another Day

Kathryn at From the Inside ... Out

Thank you all so much for your support, for reading, for commenting.  The comments you made during my crisis with my dad touched my heart.  It utterly amazes me how although we don’t “know” each other – we are there for each other.  Ahh, the power of the internet.

Some of you have been there from the beginning; some of you have just found me.  How you found me, I don’t know.  Hmmm, might be interesting to hear how you found me.

So go read the blogs of these fabulous people.  They are cool.  They must be if they are friends of mine.

I’m tired now.  All that linking has plumb wore my fingers out.

It’s a tradition y’all!

Only 81 more days until Christmas (ducking and hiding!).  Please don’t hate me for bringing it up so early, or at least at what some may consider to be early.

Every year about this time I start to plan.  I need to get Man-Child’s picture done so that it can go in the cards.  I need to get a family picture that will be the card.  You have to plan these things in advance, you know.

Then I have to make THE list.  You know the one where you list all of the people you buy for.  Then I get intimidated – because even though I’ve whittled it and whittled it – it still seems very long.  And I don’t know what the hell to get any of these people – even though they are family and very good friends.

So, then I go into total panic mode and begin to hyperventilate – because there is only 81 more days until Christmas and I haven’t even started on one thing!  Not. One. Thing!!!

And then, oh shoot, I realize I haven’t even thought about our (mostly) annual Christmas party – which is generally thrown about a week or two before Christmas and is, apparently, a much-looked forward to event by all our friends who were discussing last year’s party this past weekend – so damn it, I can’t very well nix it this year, can I?  Maybe I could break an appendage.  That would be a good reason to shut it down.  But, Christmas shopping with said broken appendage?  Hmmmm, maybe not such a good idea after all.

So about this time – I am completely and totally stressed out and wondering if I have enough vacation time left to take off and get some of this crap stuff done.

And the freakin’ cookies!!  I was supposed to start freezing batter back in the summer so all I’d have to do is bake the damn things – but of course, back in July I was too busy having summer-time fun.

Then, of course, there are the “what-if” gifts; you know because even though the So-and-So’s didn’t get us a gift last year what if they give us a gift this year like they did two years previously?  And if they give us the gift at the party – do I have to give them a gift or could their gift be considered a hostess gift?  And if I give them a gift in return then what about the other guests that didn’t get a gift?  OMG!!!

Oh crap – my co-workers!  What to do about them?  We generally exchange something small between a small group of us.

At this point, I begin to have heart palpitations and I have broken out into a sweat because dear mother of God there is NO way I can get all this done in the next 81 days!  I need a bottle of chardonnay – STAT!

So this, dear friends, is how I’ve spent my day today.  What?  Working?  No, no, no.  I’ve had far to much to think about to worry about that. 

What can I say?  It’s a tradition y’all.  And you don’t mess with tradition.

Oh No! The Guest From Hell Is Coming!

I don't like him.  At All.

One of hubby's old friends called today to say he'd be stopping by our neck of the woods.  Not sure when just yet - or how long!!!

I. Can't. Stand. This. Man.

Why?  I don't really know.  He's obnoxious to no end.  He's got these weird lips (I know you can't not like someone about their lips - but his. . . I don't know; they remind me of a pervert or something).  I don't know exactly what it is about him; but he's revolting.  It's just a vibe or something.  You know what I mean, right?

Every woman that I know that has met or known him can't stand him either.  My mother-in-law.  Hubby's ex-wife.  All my friends who got to meet him when he blew into town for hubby's 50th birthday bash.  Which probably explains why he's been married umpteen times.  What blows me away was that anyone would have married him in the first place.  Yes, that was mean.  I can't help it.  I don't like him.

All hubby's other friends that I've met, I've liked.  This one . . . I tried, I just can't.  Hopefully he'll blow in during the work week so I can be at work for the majority of the time he's here.   If not, maybe I can have "appointments" or some girl time scheduled.  Something.  I can't be around him for any length of time.

He knows that I (or any other female) doesn't like him - and he doesn't care!  It seems to me that if he knew his bud's wife didn't like him - he'd make an effort with her, right?  He actually told Hubby to "warn the wife and tell Man-Child I'm coming." 

I truly don't see the same appeal that hubby does.  Maybe it's because they were partners as policemen so many years ago.  If they'd never been paired then maybe hubby would see what I see - I don't know.  But Man-Child likes him too; and he's only met him once!

I am soooo not looking forward to this visit.  I think we actually invited this to happen as we just happened to be talking about him today right out of the blue.  I must make a mental note to never have a conversation where his name crops up.

I need a glass of wine now.

She stole my shoes!

Man-Child requested a cook out with family friends for his birthday.  We complied. 

It was a fabulous party; which apparently ended with a friend stealing a pair of my shoes.  Hmmm, I'll deal with her later.

Man-Child raked in the cash - because really, what else do you get a teenage boy?  He's already asked me to take him to the mall today. 

He also raked in the compliments.  My good friend asked everyone to tell what they loved about Man-Child.  She does this all the time.  It's very sweet.  Even though it puts you on the spot.  I always try to be at the end of the line - gives me time to think.

I almost cried listening to what everyone had to say about my boy.  I wish I had recorded it.

He was told about his sincerity, his integrity, his sweetness.  Hubby almost cried as he was telling Man-Child just how much he loves him and having him in our lives.  One of the little ones said that they loved him because when Man-Child plays with him he never hurts him on purpose.  We heard over and over again about his manners, the way he looks adults in the eye and has conversations - instead of grunts and one word answers to questions. 

He said it was embarrassing to listen to all that.  But I could tell - it made him feel good to have all his good qualities laid out there.

Every thing that was said led me to believe - despite all my doubts - maybe, just maybe, I've (okay, okay We've) done a good job so far.

Parenting is not easy.  It's damn hard work.  It seems like all I do is bitch and nag.  Apparently, it's paying off in the important areas. 

I love that boy so very much.

Now, I have to go deal with beeatch that stole my shoes!

I love being a girl but . . .

Being a girl is fabulous!  Men can't appreciate shoes and fashion the way we do (well, I suppose some can).  Men can't be pregnant - which, for me, was awesome - I absolutely loved being pregnant.  Men can't give birth - which again was pretty awesome (thank you to whoever invented the epidural - otherwise it might have been hell on wheels!).

But . . . some things about being a girl truly, truly suck. 

Okay, Blasé being my only male friend in the blogosphere you may want to stop reading here.

I'm truly tired of PMS and that time of the month.  Really.  And the older I get, the worse it seems to become.  At this point I'm thinking COME ON menopause or surgery.  And it really irks me that the guys don't have to "deal" with anything of this sort.  So, not fair.

I'm extremely tired of shaving my legs and underarms and dealing with the whole bikini area.  Honestly?  And if you don't deal with it then you look like some kind of crazy, hairy monster.  Again, so not fair - men only have to do their face.  Most women deal with at least three major areas; some even more.  So if somebody feels the need to give me laser hair removal - I. Am. There!!  If I have to suffer from any more cuts and nicks, so help me . . . .

And can anyone tell me why being the woman in the house equates to toilet cleaning?  Laundry?  Or being the only one who has the ability to "find" things?  How the hell should I know where you left your pager, your keys, your id card, your socks, your shoes, or the mortgage papers?  I didn't leave them wherever you left them because you are so disorganized that you can't designate a "home" for said items?

Hair?  Really?  I'm tired of spending so much time and money on it.  I look at hubby.  He washes and combs it.  That's it!  Me?  I have to wash, condition, special treat once in a while, have it cut, colored, dry and style it.  If I don't do all of the above then again I look like some kind of crazy, hairy monster.

I love me some handbags - but why does that mean I have become the "keeper of all things?"  When Man-Child was small it started out with "Here mommy, hold my rocks."  (He loved rocks - don't ask me why - they were everywhere!!)  It has now morphed into "Here hold my keys, my wallet, my pocket knife, my id card, my phone, my whatever."  I am NOT your personal "holder."

I have also become the designated shopper.  Yes, I love to shop.  But really?  It's your mother, sister, brother, niece, nephew, friend, etc.  How the hell should I know what will rock their boat??

Why does being a girl mean that I am the filler-outer of all forms, the disciplinarian, the inviter, the one who makes the obligatory phone calls, etc?

::Whew::  Glad I got that off my chest.  Thank you for letting me vent.  I can now go back to enjoying being a girl!

Boys . . .

 

Need I say more??

15 Years Ago . . .

Fifteen years ago, Man-Child was born.

Fifteen years!

Where has the time gone? 

My baby; is now a Man-Child.  How has this happened?

Granted, for the most part, he's a wonderful young man.  But where did the chubby,little guy go?  The one with the Fred Flintstone feet?

The one who giggled and cooed.  And hugged and kissed with abandon?

I love my Man-Child soooo much.  He's fairly independent.  He's very strong in his convictions.  He's true and loyal.  He is outgoing (for the most part) and friendly.  He is polite and kind.

But . . .

He's not my sweet little guy.  The one with chubby little cheeks, legs and hands.  The one who turned to me for comfort.  The one that looked to me for everything.  Where did that little guy go?

Yes, being a "mommy" is hard.  It's exhausting and gut-wrenching.  I had no idea what I was doing more than half the time; but sometimes. . . I miss being a mommy.

Now, I'm just a mom.  Sometimes, I'm even just a "ma"  When did this happen?  I don't like it one bit.

I'm not old enough to have a fifteen year old living in my house.  I'm really not.

But . . . I look at the young man he's become and think - maybe I haven't done such a bad job after all.  Maybe, with luck, he'll become the man he is promising to become.  Maybe, I've done my job right.

But still . . . where did my little guy go?

Happy Birthday, Man-Child.  Mommy loves you!