$5 Truth

During Monday night's baseball game, I pick up some dugout chatter and Junior says, "My mom is only 23!"  Of course, I twisted my head around so fast I got a crick in my neck.  "You're a good boy and I owe you $5!"

Tuesday night at practice my nephew is helping toss the ball around with the kids and Junior is in his group.  Somehow my age comes up again and Junior stands fast to his "my mom is 23" line.  My nephew looks dazed and confused but accepts it.

The book fair is at school this week and I pass Junior his $12 he's got in the bank.  He's bummed that the two books he wants cost $6 each so he's grumbling over the potential choice he's going to have to make. 

I actually have $7 cash in my purse so I give him the fiver.  He is over the moon with excitement and thanks me for paying the money I owed him.

"Nephew didn't really believe that you were 23." he tells me.  I tell Junior I'm 10 years older than nephew's dad.

Junior thinks for a minute and his eyes get big, "So Uncle is only 13!!??"  Yes, yes he is.

It's Thursday! That's the new Friday!!

My hours got cut at work again.  I lose the equivalent of one paycheck a month, it's absolutely horrid.  Know what pisses me off even more than that?  When we stick to the new budget, we still get all the bills paid.  Some of it is the hubs ability to work an hour or six of overtime at least once a month, but most of it is just bad money management.  One of these days I'm going to grow the hell up and start feeding the damn pig on a regular basis.

Elder Spawn showed up out of the blue last week.  He received his quarterly "injun money" and hopped on a flight home!  After spending a REAL winter with lots of snow in Missouri and Kansas I highly suspect he visited mostly for the weather and he was not disappointed, it was absolutely gorgeous!  I'm really proud of him, he managed his time wisely and everyone was glad to see him.  He even did HOMEWORK on his vacation!  I swear every time he says Calculus I want to puke, that's some scary math!

We had a nice family dinner at Nana & Mr. Grandpa's Sunday afternoon and I got to cook for him Thursday night.  He requested beef and hominy soup and frybread.  I'm pretty sure I'm the world's worst Native American but I do have some mad frybread skills.  Check this one out, it looks like a chicken, ready for the roasting pan!

I got some new clothes!  I've been trying to lose a few lbs and with the money being tight I was terrified of buying new pants.  I don't think $25 worth of jeans would break our bank but I just couldn't make the buy.  What if my butt started getting bigger?  Can't we put that $25 on the Home Depot card so I can maybe paint the freakin' house?  I thought about going to the second hand stores but I have plenty of faded jeans and I wanted some dark blue denim in the worst way.  And I came about my new clothes IN the worst way:  hand-me-downs from a deceased girlfriend.

I received clothes like this once before when Lee Anne died.  Not a lot, but some nice pieces for work and some hang around clothes.  When Betty died, her widower just couldn't bare the thought of trashing her clothes and he wanted to see someone truly use them.  Our butts and boobs are/were the same size and he asked me to go through them and take what I wanted/needed.

It has been weirdly comforting to wear her clothes.  I miss Betty like crazy, we all do.  I'm going to start cleaning her house tomorrow and I'm pretty sure I won't need any water, there will be plenty of tears.

Crappy Birthday, America!

7:30ish, George the Monkey Cat is meowing loudly.

I tell him, "Junior!  Go feed your cat!!"

He jumps up out of our bed to tend to his cat duties.

"Dad!  DAD!  DAD!!!" he yells.

Junior has just learned the power of the shart.

I get to the bathroom and it's just as amazing as it is disgusting.  Remember that spinning paint toy from when we were kids?  It was just like that but brown.

 

Rough way to start the morning, and before the coffee was made!  Junior did come up to me later in the morning and apologize.  "I'm sorry I pooped in the floor, mom."

"Its ok buddy, I know the medicine you're taking for your ear infection is upsetting your tummy."

"Yeah, it makes my poop lazy."

**********

I spent the morning making watermelon ice cream.  It came out great!

I also made three pies:  Strawberry and Keylime Weight Watchers pies and a Texas Lemon pie.  I spent the previous day in the kitchen as well.  I was tired so I took a nap.

When I woke up from my nap I thought it felt hot in here so I went to check the thermostat.  It was set to 72 but read 78.  Great, now on top of the problems we're having with the water heater, we now have a cooling problem.

On the plus side, we're having some fantastic weather so we're not roasting to death in a muggy house.

******************

Cut to this evening, just after we'd finished being entertained by the whistling, exploding, smoking display of our hard earned-easily burned money, trying to get everything put away and everyone inside.

I'm stacking chairs on the porch and Junior walks up.  "Hey mom, you remember this morning when I farted but I pooped instead?"

"Yeah buddy, I sure do."  And OMG, do I ever, it was awful!

"It happened again."

At least this time it was outside and I had a water hose nearby.

Icing on the Crappy Birthday America cake:  I had a nephew puking in the flower bed and a niece with diarrhea blowing up the main bathroom. 

p.s.  The ice cream was delicious.

Kid speak

I don't usually give Junior his bath, the husband does.  Sometimes Junior gets in a mood and doesn't want to work with his dad and he asks me to do it.  Sometimes I say yes, most of the time I make the two of them suffer through it together.

It had been a while since I'd bathed him so it was fun having to remember his bathing habits.

After taking care of All.  Of.  That.  Hair. and getting the "may doughs" (tomatoes) out of his ears, we rinse him off and I wrap his hair up to dry.  "It's a genie hat!!"  Then I'll wrap him up in his towel and heave all of his 40 something pounds of boy out of the tub.  Squirmy.

Because it is impossible to do anything the easy and direct way when you're four, Junior insists on standing on his stool to be dried off.  Whatever, it's forward progress and even though I am annoyed, I'll allow it.

I playfully pat his brown little face, rub down the left arm and then the right.  A quick shimmy along his belly and back and it's time to work on the lower limbs.  Junior sticks out an arm to lean against the wall and I grab a foot to squeeze out his toes, up his calf and as I dry the top of his thigh he always yells out

"DON'T FORGET THE UNDERLEG!!"

Please view this anatomy chart:

I don't see the Underleg labeled, do you?

Far Leather Flower Noun

She always ran late.  Late to work.  Late to dinner.  Late.  It was often said about her...she'll be late for her own funeral!

It was kind of true.  There were so many folks at visitation, the funeral did start late.

I'm dreaming about her.  They were casual, fun dreams until Sunday.  I woke up in a cold sweat Sunday.

She would live if she took this medicine.  She could have the medicine if requirements were met.

If I met the requirements.

It was not clear what the requirements were, but I did meet them for a while.

And she lived.

Then she died again.  And it was just as horrible as it was the first time.  But this time, unlike the first, brought the grief.  Six hundred sixty days later.

The grief is stacked on top of the stress.  The stress is large, uneven and unruly.  The stress is having a hard time balancing it's grief.  Tears spill almost constantly in an effort to minimize the strain.  Keep the dam from completely bursting.

I sit at the office and cry through the payroll, invoicing and production reporting.  I'm hidden away in the kitchen cooking dinner, washing dishes and crying.  I'm out walking the dog at night so I can cry and cry and cry some more.

She was not my daughter so I don't grieve for her the way my grandma does.

She was not my sister so I can't grieve for her the way my mother does.

She was truly my friend, confidant, partner in crime, co-event manager, yen to my yang.  We used to have a happy hour/bitch session almost every day after work.  In about an hour we were able to listen or bitch, get it out and move on.  When I remarried, those "therapy" sessions decreased in number and that was OK with me as I had a husband to tend to.  Then I got pregnant.  Then she had a surgery and got "diagnosed."

The tumor came from where?  What do you mean more surgery?  Why didn't you do your job the FIRST TIME, on THIS surgery?

And two weeks later I had a baby.  At the same hospital.

Then we needed to buy a house.  Then we moved to the other side of the river.

River Yankee.  We thought we were pretty clever when we decided to call her boyfriend that.  Now I'd become one.

I loved the area we all used to live in, but when bought on the other side of the river, that commute back "home" seemed so far away.  And a pain in the ass to get to.  Visits became much less frequent.

And her hair fell out.  She told Junior they were going to have a race.  Who could grow their hair faster, longer.  Junior's had another six hundred sixty days to grow his hair out, it's almost to his butt.

She had a stroke.  With all that radiation and poking about in her brain, it's no wonder.  She was weak, yet determined.  She and Junior would assemble wooden puzzles at the dinner table.  I could never be sure who I was more proud of, her for telling her brain to make her hand grasp that small knob and place it in the right hole or Junior, for not being afraid of how she looked and still playing with her.

He has the puzzles.  He's pretty good at putting them together now.  It sucks to know he won't remember how he came to own them and who he played with them first.

660.

Food jerk.

The husband and I were food jerks today.

The Big. Game. is tonight.  High school - RIVAL - football.  Both boys went to the game.  They'll hang out with their women, eat stale boxed popcorn and stadium hot dogs.  These delicacies will be washed down with watered-down fountain sodas in plastic green cups.  GO TROJANS!!  (the football team, not the prophylactic)

While the husband and I were executing the weekly Tactical Grocery Discount Extravaganza Tour through town, we realized it would be just he and I for dinner and decided to treat ourselves to steak.  Bossman gave me a couple of pounds of shrimp and we still had some left to cook  after eating a mess of boiled shrimp last night.

Yep, we went deliberately deviated from the Food Plan.  I'm fairly OCD about the Food Plan.  The Food Plan  has an Excel file.  The Food Plan is printed out, in grid form, and displayed on the Master Calendar on the fridge.  You are responsible to check the calendar and the Food Plan for yourself.  I study weekly ad papers from seven stores compiling a menu from sale items.  The Food Plan is Serious Business.

With just the two of us eating (I don't care what you're eating, unless it's a hot dog or cake, Junior is not going to eat it) steak and shrimp was just too good not to pass up.  We went for it.  We agreed to be a food jerks.

We did get a little food jerk karma thrown back in our gullets.  After I got the shrimp peeled and swimming in the garlic and Teriyaki sauce the skies got dark.  Very dark.  And the rain came down.  Not good for grilling steaks and shrimps.  We opted to have George Foreman cook our dinner for us.  While George cooks mean burgers and dogs, he's not really our preferred Go To Guy for steak cookin'.  In the end he did alright but we did miss the fire taste.

We finished off dinner with a batch of scratched-out-of-the-box brownies.  Mmmmmmm!  I'm ok with being a food jerk.

I didn't know it was contagious....

Small ears hear well and they repeat things you don't want them to say.  

Recent words we're guilty of at home:  stupid, whatever, shut up.  Please note these are most often spouted from angsty teenagers but I admit I'm guilty of WHATEVER!! a lot of the time.

Junior gets tickled when we say one of these words now.  He'll climb atop his little soapbox and say, "Don't say that word, Mom.  I don't like that word.  It hurts my ears when you say it."

Inside my head, I am screaming back to him, "THEN DON'T MAKE ME SO CRAZY!!"

But usually I just say sorry and that I'll try to do better.  Hrumph!!  Dang his almost 4 year old selective memory!!

Yesterday when we picked up Junior from Nana's he was saying DUH! a lot.  He said it about 4 times before we left, then once more in the car.  I told him that was not a word he needed to be using.  While I was strapping him into the car seat he said it again and while I raised my hand to pop his lips, he covered them up and said, "Sorry!"

And I'm mumble to myself, "I know where you got that word.  Nana says it all the time."

Of course little ears heard me and said:

Yeah, Nana gave me the Duhs!

Well boy, that's OK, just as long as she doesn't give you a case of the Duh-huhs.   (Yeah, I looked for John Boy & Billy's Hoyt and Delbert to insert here but they're stingy and I'm not paying for that!  Just tell Goober I said Hello.  Hellos are still free, right?)

I learned it by watching YOU!!

From: Dad

To: Jocelyn

Sent: Wednesday, May 20, 2009 9:13:23 AM

Subject: Cat

The other morning I was conferring with a Professional Cat Rassler.  He was telling me his cat died because he didn’t have any lemon juice.  In order to keep my cat from suffering the same demise, I was wondering if you knew of any ideas to get lemon juice in my cat.  Any and all ideas will be considered.  Thanks.

________________________________________

 

From: Jocelyn

To: Dad

Sent: Wednesday, May 20, 2009 9:38:23 AM

Subject: Re: Cat

Professional Cat Rassler?  Please tell me he had an eye patch and a hook hand?  A professional would have some sort of battle scar(s), right?

 

What the heck are you supposed to do with the lemon? TO THE CAT???!!  And live??

 

The only thing I've seen is that cats HATE citrus so you can leave orange/lemon/lime peels in the garden to keep em out.  (We use this for the a$$hole cat across the street who LOVES to lay in the neighbors' gardens.)  And make a spray for stuff you don't want the cat to shred up.  Or you can make home made lemon spray to kill fleas on the cat.

 

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2758/lessons_you_can_teach_your_cat.html 

 

http://www.ehow.com/how_4796738_flea-medicine-cats.html 

 

If you are going to try to get the lemon into the cat I would suggest investing/building a miniaturizer to make the lemon much smaller and make it taste like his food.  Also, I would shrink Tahlee's claws or buy some of those falconer gloves.  Maybe a whole body suit??

 

Is he eating MORE plants?  I found this link to make a spray to put on plants so the cat won't keep trying to eat them.

http://www.myhealthycat.com/plants-poisonous-to-cats.html

 

Dammit, I'm supposed to be concentrating on work.  Now all I can think about is CATS AND LEMONS!!  

 

(Junior finally told Husband TO HIS FACE that he wanted a cat.  Maybe Husband will cave and Junior will stop trying to take Tahlee from you.)

________________________________________

From: Jocelyn  

Sent: Wednesday, May 20, 2009 12:27 PM

To: Dad

Subject: Fw: Cat

 

Ok, I'm still waiting to hear back from you.  It's been 3 hours and I really need to know how and why you need to combine cats and lemons.

________________________________________

From: Dad

To: Jocelyn

Sent: Wednesday, May 20, 2009 1:27:10 PM

Subject: RE: Cat

Your youngest spawn was telling me about his cat.  He died because he was lacking the Sacred Lemon Juice.  Ask him when you see him this afternoon.  He will give all the needed information.

________________________________________

From: Jocelyn  

To: Dad

Sent: Wednesday, May 20, 2009 1:51:15 PM

Subject: Re: Cat

Oh crap!!  It's times like these I am SO GLAD I'm in this rat hole office BY MYSELF.  I have laughed until I cried over this one. I also had to take a call from one of my bosses in the middle of my laugh/cry fest without sounding crazier than he thinks I already am.  Fun times!!

I was really concerned for Tahlee.  I know he's been gnawing on the spider plant and was wondering if he had been sampling the rest of the "salad buffet."  And wondering how in the world you'd crossed paths with a "Professional Cat Rassler" in the first place. It's not like the use a lot of cranes in their training, ya know?

Junior is on the lemon juice kick because he's been watching me squeeze lemon into my water glass.  He will certainly need an eye patch and a hook hand if he tries to feed lemons to Tahlee!!  And yes, I would totally watch that show(down)!!

Morning Conversation

During our morning Fight Club (brush teeth, comb hair, wash face) Junior informed me that he'd recently had a conversation.

Junior:  I talked to Mr. Grandpa.

Me:  Oh yeah, what did you guys talk about?

Junior:  I like Tahlee.  I give Mr. Grandpa fifteen dollars.

Me:  You're going to give Mr. Grandpa fifteen dollars?

Junior:  Yes.  And then I take Tahlee.

I can see that the kid is just not going to give up on that cat!!  And Dad....whatever you do, DO NOT accept any monies from that boy!!

Happy Birthday

Lee Anne Redwine

1964 - 2007

You were the big sister I never had.  

You were the auntie I always wanted to hang out with.  

You were the friend I could always count on.

You were the savvy entrepreneur who taught me the way.

You were the best NASCAR buddy and Talladega will never be the same to me.

You were.

I are.

And I miss you.

This week in Boy Land...

WELCOME TO SPRING BREAK.  THESE ARE THE RULES.

NOBODY COMES OVER TO HANG OUT AT MY HOUSE.

YOU MAY COME AND GO AS YOU PLEASE IF:

1.  YOU CALL ME FIRST AND ADVISE OF WHO YOU ARE WITH, WHAT YOU PLAN TO DO AND WHEN YOU WILL BE HOME.

2.  ALWAYS HAVE YOUR CELL PHONE ON.

3.  ALWAYS HAVE YOUR HOUSE KEY.

4.  YOU MAKE SURE MYA IS TAKEN CARE OF BEFORE YOU GO:  WATER IN DISH, MAKE SURE SHE’S NOT LEFT OUTSIDE, MAKE SURE SHE’S NOT TOO HOT IF LEFT IN THE HOUSE.

BEFORE YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE, YOU MUST MAKE SURE YOU SECURE IT!!  WINDOWS CLOSED AND LOCKED, DOORS DEADBOLTED.  IF I COME HOME AND FIND AN UNSECURED AREA, I WILL TAKE YOUR STUFF TO THE PAWN SHOP JUST LIKE A FREAKIN’ THEIF.

YOUR CURFEW FOR THE WEEK IS 10:00 PM, PERIOD.

REMEMBER THAT HUSBAND IS OUT OF TOWN THIS WEEK SO DON’T MAKE ANYTHING DIFFICULT FOR ME.  IT WILL NOT BE PRETTY.

THANK YOU FOR BEING SMART.  WEAR CLEAN UNDERWEAR, SAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU, YADDA, YADDA.

Dear Dad....

I think I just found your people.

If you ever go missing, we'll know where to find you.

I'm the oldest

I have two sisters and a brother.  

My younger sister died when she was four months old.  It was December.  Two weeks before Christmas.  I remember my mother telling me about the funeral we were having for her.  I remember her telling me that they would be playing "Isn't She Lovely" by Stevie Wonder and "they edited out all the sounds."  (I wouldn't discover the edited out parts until I was 20ish and I think I died a little more when I did figure it out.)  I remember wearing my Blue Bird uniform and sitting with my friends in the church.  I remember that tiny casket.  

I thought that was the saddest thing ever and I would not want to touch or be around a baby for a very long time after that.  I have always felt so sad for my parents and the club they had joined but no one wanted to be a member of.  

I remember opening Christmas presents a few weeks later.  I remember my dad pulling out another gift from under the tree for either my sister or me to open.  The present was not for either one of us, it was for Andrea.  And I remember that sucked.

I remember my mom joining a grief group to help her get thru such a difficult thing.  I remember how some of her fellow grievers were angry when she got knocked up with my brother.  

And you'd better believe all kinds of sunshine, love and goodness poured onto brother's not-so-small ass when he arrived.  We all spoiled his ass rotten so we could fill the missing void of Andrea's presence.  He was so spoiled that he didn't walk until after he turned one.  Who needs to walk when you can be toted around like the prince he was?

And then there were three.  It ended up that we're all 5 years apart.  Close enough to beat and torture each other on a regular basis but not so close we ever had to go to school together.  As the oldest I certainly did keep to my duties of keeping the younger two in line.  Sure, it was mostly my line they were towing but I can't help it if I'm smarter than you...and bigger.  All the easier to pin you to the floor and tickle you until you pee your pants, my pretty! (Good thing that house had linoleum floors, huh?  Way easy to hide the evidence!)

As we've grown into adults, I am still the oldest but now I find myself in a different place.  While we are not a particularly close brood, I am still sought out for dirty deeds.

Unfortunately, my sister and her husband are now members of the club my parents joined so long ago.  And it hurts me in many, many ways.  I know exactly where her anger is.  And I'm trying to not let it eat me alive.

Pray.

FIRST!!

Lots of firsts this weekend.

First big mow.  The Husband mowed and mowed and mowed.  Back and front yards, then the spare lot.  Thankfully, we have a riding lawn mower to manage that much area.  It was a hand-me-down from my Memaw.  It's an old-school Snapper JUST LIKE the one Forest Gump drove around.  It's old as hell but she keeps on running.  And running, and running.  

First bloom.  I counted 25 amaryllis blooms the other day.  I don't recall having any more than 12 the prior years.  I'm glad to see the 'roids paid off.  Saturday morning gave way to the first one blooming and as a bonus, the banana tree is coming back to life.  I expect to see 3 to 5 leaves on it by the weekend.  WOO HOO!!

First lizard.  So awesome to see the little guys running around again.  The lizard I saw was stalking around the amaryllis and lilies so I reckon he's eating bugs off my plants.  Thank you Mr. Lizard!

First hummingbird.  My BFF came by Sunday and as we were chatting it up on the front porch I caught buzzing in my eye line and saw a hummer buzzing at the empty feeder.  So I cleaned and filled the feeder so all of my little friends stop by for a drink.  Hummingbirds are the best show in town.

First sprouts.  I bought a seed tray to get my flower boxes up and running.  (Better late than never, right?)  And I also planted the garden seeds:  broccoli, squash, zucchini, cucumbers.  The seeds started sprouting by Sunday afternoon and as of Monday afternoon it looks like most of the seeds were successful.  Junior is excited because he can grow and pick all the TWO NUMBERS he can eat!  Now if we can just find a "Ranch" bush to plant...

First independent.  I don't know if you'd call it independent or actual use of imagination - Junior playing and not requiring someone to help him play.  I wanted to watch the race, Husband was packing up getting ready to work out of town this week and Junior wanted to be outside.  I turned up the TV, opened the windows and sat on the porch working crosswords and turning left while Junior played with a water gun, a bowl of water and all the rocks he could find.  And everybody was happy and no one had issues of the 4 year old I NEED variety.  

First breather.  Too much stress in March.  TOO MUCH.  This weekend was the first time in a while that I haven't felt like I was....well, was.  It was nice to feel comfortable and relaxed.  I did my shopping early on Saturday and that was about all I had to do.  It was awesome.

So all that good stuff, and the Husband being gone left me sitting and thinking last night.  I have a big week ahead of me.  The annual Easter gig is Sunday.  I have cakes and pies to make, change to plunder, baskets to buy and fill up.  No rest for the wicked!

Little brother's done gone on

Have I mentioned lately that boys are dumb?

Teenage boys have NO CLUE.  I should be thankful they can wash their own ass and do their own laundry but clearly, I still have much to teach them.

Buy valentines, you must.

So Saturday is Valentines Day.  This doesn't mean a whole lot to me anymore as I consider the husband working a solid 40 per week and a paid mortgage a true expression of love.  To young teenage girls in lurve, Valentines Day has the potential to be a B.F.D.  Both of my boys currently date teenage girls.

Each evening this week, I would walk to their room and try to have a conversation.

Monday:

Me:  Boys, have you thought about Valentine's Day at all?  It's on Saturday.

Boys:  Why?

Tuesday:

Me:  Boys, have you thought about Valentine's Day at all?  It's on Saturday.

Boys:  Are we supposed to?

Wednesday:

Me:  Boys, have you thought about Valentine's Day at all?  It's on Saturday.

Boys:  I don't know!

Me:  Yes, clearly you don't know.

Thursday:

Borrowed One calls me at 3:45 wanting to go play basketball.  I told him that was fine but when you got home, we were going shopping for Valentine's Day.  He's down with it and Elder Spawn agrees as well.

So at 9:00 pm (PM!!) I load up two testosterone laden knuckle-dragging teenagers to Walmart.  And of course, the second we walk in the door, we see 40 people we know.  We make brief chit chat and I have to pull them away so we can get down to some bidness.

The boys start out in the special Valentine's area.  Nothing here but a bunch of cheap-ass stuffed animals and candy.  They seemed to be thrilled by this but Mama does not approve and I direct them to the jewelery department.

Usually the jewelery department is staffed by some not so friendly ladies.  Tonight, we are blessed to be hosted by the frutiest guy I've ever seen in Walmart.  He is wonderful:  kind, helpful and patient.  

ES can't remember if he's even SEEN his girlfriend's ears so of course he doesn't know if her ears are pierced.  BO finds a set of heart-shaped CZ's and his bling alarm goes off.  I'm feeling pretty "meh" about these but we agree to purchase and Fruity works on putting them in a nice box suitable for gift giving.  ES can't form an opinion on anything and gives up, wanting to walk back to the candy area.  I'm pretty "meh" on this idea as well.

I keep assuring the boys that I'm not trying to commit you to anything, over extend your relationship, etc.  But you are SO NOT going to do this half-assed.  Mama's not having it.

As we're walking dejectedly back to candy land I try once again to appeal to ES, "Are you sure you didn't see anything in the jewelry department?"  Poor ES is so confused and probably wishing lightening would strike his mother down so she would shut the hell up.  We walked back to jewelery to give it one more shot.

Fruity asks us exactly how much we're willing to spend and I submit to the $30 range.  Remember, it's not about being cheap.  I'm not trying to fluff up their relationship any more than it already is.  I don't want anything that screams I'M COMMITTED TO YOU FOREVER AND EVER.  I'm just trying to present you as a nice, thoughtful young man.

The only thing Fruity can offer us at that price is a 20" sterling silver necklace with a 1/10th of a carat in diamond chip/dust heart pendant.  Fruity puts extra emphasis on REAL DIAMONDS.  And in my head, after he says REAL DIAMONDS, I'm screaming, "AT WALMART!"  ES's eyes light up and we've found our gift!  We tell Fruity we're headed back to candy for some reinforcements and he says just come back when you're ready and I'll have your gifts ready to go.

So we've suffered a good 30 minutes in jewelry and it should take just a few minutes to complete our gift bonanza extravaganza, no?  Yeah.  NO.

I found a cute red bucket shaped tin with hearts for handles.  It would be nice to fill with small candies and the jewelery box.  Since I've been a teenage girl before, I could just imagine these girls would have that tin until they graduated from college.  Some small trinkets that a boy gave you are really hard to part with and usually can be converted to a useful purpose (even if said boy turns out to be a total dick).  Standing in that isle, I could see that tin being a pencil cup on a desk for a loooooooong time.  Because I think like a woman.  

You would have thought I was showing them an alien artifact from Remulac.  I tried to explain the concept of inserting goodies and the present and we had a small meltdown.  Right there.  In Walmart.  BO:  "I'm so confused!"  ES:  "What?  Me too!"  I can't think of any basketball or skateboarding terms to communicate to them any better so being mindful of the time we've already spent in here, I gave up.  I pointed to the Russell Stover heart-shaped $1 sampler box and said, "Just get one of those!"

The boys saw a bigger heart with chocolates that was also $1 and started to grab that one instead.  I lovingly (ok, maybe not lovingly but in a Dammit I'm so ready to get the hell out of here! way) point out that while that box may be bigger, the candy inside is shit compared to Russell Stover.  The point was well received by the young gents and they each went with the RS sampler.

On our way back to jewelery I asked BO if he wanted to trade up his CZ earrings to a diamond necklace as well and he eagerly agreed.  I felt bad because Fruity had our stuff cleaned up and ready in the really nice gift boxes and we changed our order.  I think Fruity approved of the upgrade though because he took just as much time, care and glee for our sake as we did in finally coming to a frakkn decision.

As we were getting into the car I told them I had some Valentine's gift wrap they could use, and in unison they whined:

We have to wrap it too??!!??

Dammit boys.  So. Much. To. Learn.

It's now 10:00 pm (PM!!) and on the drive home they both thanked me over and over again.  There was much discussion about being "lost" and "having no idea."  Then there was much talk about how the same trip would have gone down if the Husband would have taken them.  BO said they'd probably still be in electronics trying to pick something out.  And I'm thinking to myself, "Yep, you three would be there playing GAMES in electronics."

And if you'll excuse me, I'm off to track down my 10th grade boyfriend's mother.  After this experience, it's so clear to me now that even though HE presented me with the earrings for Valentine's Day, HIS MOTHER is the one who bought them.  I owe her a thank you card.

Boys are so dumb.

Best Toy Ever

I almost fell out when I found this link on a Woot! board.  I've been studying that page and just reeling over flashbacks.

This photo is from Christmas 1973 so I'm assuming this is the original playset.  

I remember playing with this thing ALL THE TIME and not only did it serve me well, it was handed down to my sister - she came along 5 years later.  I do believe that it was still in playing condition by the time my brother rolled around

 10 years later.  (And dammit, he was the one who finally BROKE my favorite Tonka toy.  Jerk.)

I think my favorite part was the bridge holding the two halves together.  The traffic light in the middle of the bridge can be turned to change colors / directions.  I do remember it was a bitch to get the two halves joined with the bridge though.  They had to slide in just right.

The umbrella table had good "sproing" to it since the umbrella post was made out of a firm but not too rigid spring.  You could hold the base of the table and shake it like crazy to watch the umbrella bob around and not only could you hear the sproing sound, you could feel it in your hands.  The street lamp had the same awesome sproing factor except its sound was much longer and louder.  I'm pretty sure I got yelled at once or twice over that sound.

The cars that came with it all had fuel tank holes.  You could actually gas up your car at the fuel station.  If you needed to work on your cars, just drive them into the garage and crank them up on the rack.

The jail kicked ass because you could toss a Little People right into the cell and lock their ass up by twisting the knob on the top of the jail.  Twist, twist, open, closed.  This could go on for hours and HOURS.

Every single door worked and had some kind of small bump on the floors to make sure they stayed closed.

You could wind, wind and wind up the firehouse alarm.  I don't remember what kind of sound it made but I'm sure the handle had 1,000,000 miles on it by the time this village made it to baby bro.

The fireman's bed always bugged me.  It seemed like it would be very uncomfortable but the fire chief was made out of wood and plastic so I'm sure he did not mind sleeping on some cheap-ass foam.  He was so very not married because a good wife would not let you sleep on something so ugly and green.

The accessories were awesome.  There was always a steak cooking on the grill and there were several sleek captain's chairs to sit in...if you weren't busy driving a car, sitting the barber chair, laying on the jail cot or making a phone call.  The phone booth....slide open the door, slide the door closed, slide, slide, slide.   HOURS AND HOURS!!

The best, most fabulous part....check out the TOP of both halves.  There's a handle!  Chunk all the stuff inside, close her up and you're off to grandma's house with your favoritest toy EVER!

All of this fun can be yours too on Ebay.  Buy it now for $92 plus $29 shipping.  I wonder how much it sold for in 1973?  Damn, I think I want this for my birthday.

Setting Examples

This photo makes me laugh like a hyena every time I see it.  I’m the clown, clowns are funny.  My witch friend is Cassie, we pretty much grew up together (at least from about 1 to 12).  We are four in 1975.

I’m not sure why Cassie is looking at me and smiling other than I’m a clown and clowns are funny.  I have no idea why I am smiling so intently.  We are four so I’m guessing our camera hog gene was firing pretty rich back then.

When I found this photo last night, I laughed and laughed and laughed.  It’s just so goofy.  This photo is early evidence that I spent the majority of my youth living in overalls.

My laughter eventually breaks into tears.  While I am happy Cassie and I had such rockin’ Halloween costumes and make up, I can’t help but think about our mothers who got us all dressed up.

If I remember the story correctly, our mothers met in a laundry mat.  They were close in age, Cassie is a month older than I am and behold!  Cassie’s mom and I share (as well as a very dirty, dirty democrat) the same birthday.  Alas, being a young child, I didn’t really care about their womanly relationship, I was just glad to have someone to play with.

I too have known the joy of finding a friend, a best woman friend when I was a young mother.  Her daughter is a year older than Elder Spawn.  We met when they were about 4.  We did lots and lots of stuff together when they were young and still liked us a whole lot.  I think they still like us now but they keep us at a teenager’s arm-length.  At all times.  Unless they want something. 

When I see this photo, I don’t really see us kids.  I see past the children and look at two long-haired hippie-ish women sitting at the kitchen table talking about how to dress us up, what they have on-hand to dress us up with and which neighborhood they would walk us thru.  They were probably listening to some kick ass music on the stereo I was never allowed to touch and maybe even drinking a glass of wine. 

I did/do these same things with my best woman friend!!!

My heart bursts with pride and gratitude when I think about all four of us:  at that same age, at that same period in our lives.  I am so thankful for the example Mom and my other mom gave to me. 

I am so thankful I was glad to find that kind of friendship as well.

Christmas wrap up

So Christmas was pretty awesome.  Junior is three now so he's REALLY into presents and their eventual "tearing."  For the two weeks before Christmas, all we heard is:  "Can I tear this present?  I want to tear this present!  Go ahead Mama, tear this one!"

Shopping was hard this year.  We just shelled out cash for one of the big boy's class ring and paid for both big boys to go on their annual youth trip at the Big God Conference in Myrtle Beach.  And big boys like big expensive toys.  It was a tough one but they got what they asked for and they seem happy.  (Except for my screw up buying the right game for the WRONG system.  It all worked out, Santa found the receipt.)

Of course, being the procrastinator I am, (hey, give me a break - I bought all the damned presents - mostly on time!  I even skillfully stacked them and camouflaged them with a sheet - the ones that would not fit under the big boys' beds.) I'm always wrapping presents until Christmas Eve.  Junior was being a good little elf helping with the placing of presents under the tree...until the one large box would not fit under the tree, even though it would slide up neatly next to the tree.  I didn't realize just how tired the little man was until that meltdown.  "Mama, de prez ant wont' fit under de tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"  Oh my!  Three rears its ugly head again.  Junior, would you like to revisit your new "I'm NOT taking a nap!" policy?  You should really think about it long and hard.

I did do a lot of holiday cooking.  I made crockpot candy and even got a little help spooning them out from a not-so-surly teenager (I reckon he knew Santa was watching).  174 pieces divided into three containers on a Friday turned into ONLY 1 container in the fridge by 7:30 am Monday.  It should be called CRACKpot candy, it's that good.

I finally opened the KitchenAid Stand Mixer box and made two batches of banana nut bread over two weekends.  Oh my!!  I can not describe the awesomeness of the KASM - there are no words.  Best. Kitchen. Accessory. EVER!!  

My favorite part of the KASM is the receipe prep.  It's like playing Alton Brown in your own kitchen!!  The KASM instruction manual preaches almost nothing but DO NOT OVER BEAT your goodies.  (This is probably a good rule to apply to most anything in life.  Do not over beat your goodies!)  You have to be READY! to put all your stuff in the mixer at the right time to avoid over beating.  Nothing like a little PRESSURE to go with your awesomely intimidating FIRST stand mixer EVER.

Junior and I decided we needed to make chocolate chip cookies for Santa.  Junior remembered this from last year!  So Junior and I have all kinds of ingredient bowls set out on the counter.  I'd left the butter in the mixer to soften earlier in the evening.  I spun the butter around a bit to make sure it was indeed softened and I was satisfied with the yellow mush so I unlatch the head thing and kick it back to scrape and add the eggs and sugar.  Junior is short and three so he's standing on a chair, right next to the mixer.  He sees the butter on the paddle and before I can say, "Noooooo!!!" he sticks out his tongue and LICKS the butter and says, "MMMM!  Deese cookies good!"  Dammit boy.

We got all the wet stuff in the mixer and it was time for the flour.  Junior did a good job of scooping it into the chute without getting most of it on the counter.  When they were done mixing I gave him the beater to "clean" and he was done after that.  He got what HE wanted, I was left to plop 'em out on the cookie sheets.  

Junior also remembered that we put carrots out for the reindeer last year and he asked to do it again this year.  I'm glad *I* remembered to buy carrots!!

Everybody but me slept in Christmas morning.  I'd been wanting to make fudge for the first time so I made a pot of coffee and started my fudge experimenting.  I had no clue it was SO EASY to make!  I can't believe I let myself be so intimidated for so long.  It was kind of scary when the boil started making the ingredients "grow" in the pan but it did not boil over the side of the pan.  The hardest part is scraping the marshmallow fluff out of the jar.  Sticky stuff!  

My last holiday cooking duty was to provide pinto beans and fry bread for the Friday night dinner.  Most of the family got together at Mom & Dad's and had Indian tacos.  Fry bread is hard work and well worth the reward.  I made two batches and there was only 1 bread left when we'd finished filling our gullets.  Also, I had flour ALL OVER my NEW shirt but managed to not get it all over the floor.  

Dinner was really good but my favorite part of the night had me acting like I was 10 years old again.  And torturing my younger siblings.  Again.  SO FREAKIN' GOOD!

Brudder and his family had just left and Junior and I were running around hiding from each other.  I was waiting in the dark hallway when Brudder came back in for the 3 items one always leaves when traveling with small children.  I heard him telling mom he left something in the back room and could hear him headed my way to get it.  I scooted back a little and crouched down like a cat.  Hell, I think I even wiggled a bit like kittehs do just before the ATTACK!  I should probably be ashamed that I was THAT excited.  But I am not.

I got him good though, just as he stepped to where I was I jumped up with a RAWR! and he did shriek a little as he jumped.  And it was a sweet sweet wave of HA!  I STILL RULE YOU! that washed over me.  So very awesome.

I hope you all enjoyed your Holiday Season as much as I did!  Here's to a prosperous NEW YEAR!

IT'S WEDNESDAY!!!!

It took ALL DAMN WEEK, but Wednesday is finally here. The season finale of Sons of Anarchy is tonight. I think I have "life" situated so I'll be more than ready at 10:00.

Dinner will be quick and dirty, Junior will be in the express bathtub line. The only loose end is one of the big boys is out with a friend and isn't supposed to be home until 10:00. If he breaks curfew and I have to lecture during my SOA time....someone is going to be picking up dead leaves in the yard AND the spare lot. With a pair of chopsticks.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I'm glad. We're having a late dinner this year - like 6:00 feed bag time late. So HOORAY I get to sleep in tomorrow instead of waking up in a panic trying to get things done. Also, Thanksgiving is NOT at my house this year so I really don't have much to worry about except being at Mom & Dad's by 4:00.

I'm bringing to the meal:

• Punch - the drinking kind. Hardly as much fun as the other kind of punch but generally safer around the childrens. I hunted down (like it was an animal) a punch fountain a few years ago and it's the best damned $20 I have ever spent on punch. The fountain has three tiers and lights (!!) so even if you're only serving Kool-aid...it looks spectacular! When I make Christmas punch (for adults only) the streams of the fountain make big ol' foamy boob looking blobs in the bowl. You know its a party when there's light-up boobies in the punch.
• Green Bean Casserole - just like all the other years. Hey, it's a classic, a favorite and a "safe" side dish (as opposed to a Nasty-Assery "casserole"). This year Alton Brown has inspired - maybe even challenged - me to make it from scritchety-scratch. I'm a bit nervous because GBC is a staple and how the hell can you mess up a holiday staple and not manage to melt and pour into the nearest a/c vent after dinner should there be an issue with said casserole you prepared. Here me now Lowe's Foods: If you don't have panko bread crumbs on your shelf when I arrive this evening....someone is getting hurt.
• Sweet Tea - made with real sugar, brewed in a metal pot on the stove then lovingly dumped into my construction-type dispenser cooler. It's only two gallons so I'm hoping that's enough. Heck, I can drink a gallon a day by myself. Sweet tea is a drug.
• Kid table - easy AND stress reducing. Just rip (screw) legs off and toss into the back of the car.
• Kid stuff - MY FAVORITE!!! I bought about $50 worth of Dollar Tree arts and craft supplies during the July 4th family gathering. I never had so much fun with pipe cleaners, googly eyes, foam shaped sticky things, scissors and glue. I think my nieces and nephews had fun too. When I wasn't pushing them out of my way and hoarding all the sparkly pieces for my project. Oh come on now, I didn't push them that hard. I think Nana and Mr. Grandpa need a collage of home-made turkey hands on their shiny new fridge.

Here's to hoping you have a Happy Thanksgiving and you get what you want out of the SOA finale. If Tig doesn't bite the big one or at least get severely maimed I think it will have a direct effect on my Green Bean Casserole. Then....my lovely Tig....YOUR ASS IS MINE!!!