Monday, December 14, 2009
I'm Just Sayin . . .
The one thing I love about children in general is they just say what they are thinking. At times this can be a source of embarrassment but at other times it is down right hilarious. I traveled to Dallas over the weekend for my brother’s 40th birthday party. On our way, Andrew and I were discussing the Heisman Trophy announcement which was scheduled for Saturday evening. Colt McCoy is one of Andrew’s idols so he really wanted Colt to win. I told Andrew I almost hoped he did not win. He asked why of course and I explained the folly of those who have won in recent years and how it was almost a curse. We talked about blowing championship games, getting hurt and then I said “And it seems like when the go into the NFL they tend not to do well.” Andrew pondered this for about 20 seconds and then asked me “Hey mom, did Tony Romo win the Heisman?” I told him I didn’t think so. He looked absolutely devastated and said “So, he is just naturally bad?” I started to laugh and he followed up with “I’m just saying . . .” LOL
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Spank the Monkey
So, I am in the kitchen making dinner and I hear the normal sounds coming from the living room, TV monologues, chatter between my two children and Charlie growling and yipping at one of his squeaky toys. These are the sounds that are music to my ears – mainly because there is no fighting or blood curdling screams. I was content until I hear Andrew say “Hey Maddie, wanna watch me spank the monkey?”
At this point my little sense of euphoria goes right out the window. I quickly step into the door way to see what is going on and to my relief Andrew is showing her something on the computer . . . at first I am relieved that he is not in fact “spanking” anything. Then the feeling of doom comes again – what in the world is on the computer because the kids are laughing really hard. Now my mommy sense tells me that if it were something sexual, they would not be laughing they would be asking me a million questions. So I stroll over and see a game on the screen. There is a huge monkey and the object of the game is to “slap” him so hard that he reaches a speed of 200MPH. That was it. I once again resumed my station in the kitchen and finished dinner. I wonder if they have a game called “choke the chicken”?
At this point my little sense of euphoria goes right out the window. I quickly step into the door way to see what is going on and to my relief Andrew is showing her something on the computer . . . at first I am relieved that he is not in fact “spanking” anything. Then the feeling of doom comes again – what in the world is on the computer because the kids are laughing really hard. Now my mommy sense tells me that if it were something sexual, they would not be laughing they would be asking me a million questions. So I stroll over and see a game on the screen. There is a huge monkey and the object of the game is to “slap” him so hard that he reaches a speed of 200MPH. That was it. I once again resumed my station in the kitchen and finished dinner. I wonder if they have a game called “choke the chicken”?
Friday, October 9, 2009
The Tooth Fairy
At 5:00 am this morning my son crawled into bed with me and said the 7 words that make all parents cringe in horror. “Mom, the tooth fairy did not come”. Normally, I am not the most alert person as 5:00 am but these words sent my adrenalin production into overdrive. How in the world could the stupid tooth fairy forget to show up? I am pretty sure this would put me in the running for worst mother of the year so I had to devise a plan.
Andrew and I started talking about the rain how it could have possibly delayed the arrival. I mean the weather can back up air ports for hours and hours so why not the tooth fairy? I also pointed out that since he got up soooo early, it could be possible that he just got up before she was able to make her stop. His last name does begin with a “T” which would put him at the end of her route. But he quickly added that since my last name begins with an “M” she should have gone by name rather than his. This spared a debate on does the tooth fairy go by the parent or the child? This was buying me all kinds of time!!!
My brain was beginning to form a plan on how to get the money in there and not destroy the innocence of my child. Then Andrew drops the bomb on me – “You know what I think mom, I think the tooth fairy didn’t come because you came in late (I had a massage appointment last night and got back around 9:30) and you forgot I lost my tooth”. OMG – now to me this is a difficult situation – do I fess up or try to keep the tooth fairy alive. I mean seriously, how much longer can he actually believe some person sneaks into his room at night and pays him for a tooth? But if I fess up on the tooth fairy, I can kiss Santa and the Easter Bunny away too and I do LOVE playing Santa. So, I did what any decent parent would do – I looked my loving little boy straight in the eye and lied like a dog!
After a very convincing speech on how the toothy fairy was real which included references to air, God and the perfect man, the things we cannot see but still believe in anyway, he seemed halfway okay with the notion. At this point, I suggest we take Charlie downstairs to go potty. As I do most mornings, I grabbed my phone and acted like I was checking my messages but I was actually pulling my wallet out to get some cash. And of course the ONLY bill I have in my wallet is a $10. I never realized how much this little slip up would actually cost me. So, by this point I stuff the $10 in my waist band and walk onto the back porch where Andrew is trying to talk Charlie into going out in the rain to go tinkle. Thank you God!!! I realize this is my chance. I told Andrew I had to go potty myself and I would be right back. As soon as I got in the door I ran like I stole something. Once I get into Andrew’s room I reach for the money and it is gone –it had fallen out of my waistband. I found it on the stairs – I grab the tooth, lay out the money out and head back down stairs. My goal was to completely jump over the last two steps – but it was dark and I have short legs and the grace of a duck, so I half way hit the last step, stumble and run smack into the front door, where Andrew finds me. And he says “Mom, what are you doing?” I said “Ummmm, I checking to see if our new flowers on the front porch are getting any of this rain water or if we need to water them”. He believed me!!!!!!! Woo hoo. So we check the flowers and then walk back into the kitchen - I get coffee and we head back upstairs.
Andrew likes to sit with me while I get ready for work. We have some of our most meaningful conversations at this time so we once again begin to discuss the tooth fairy. I asked him if he had checked the ground . . . maybe she left him money and it fell behind the desk since his fan was on . . . You should have seen the spark in the kid’s eye! He walked back in a few moments later holding a $10 bill and a look of utter amazement and confusion on his face. I’m not sure if he was perplexed on how the money got there or the fact he got a $10 for his tooth. In all honesty, probably the best $10 I have spent in a very long time . . .
Andrew and I started talking about the rain how it could have possibly delayed the arrival. I mean the weather can back up air ports for hours and hours so why not the tooth fairy? I also pointed out that since he got up soooo early, it could be possible that he just got up before she was able to make her stop. His last name does begin with a “T” which would put him at the end of her route. But he quickly added that since my last name begins with an “M” she should have gone by name rather than his. This spared a debate on does the tooth fairy go by the parent or the child? This was buying me all kinds of time!!!
My brain was beginning to form a plan on how to get the money in there and not destroy the innocence of my child. Then Andrew drops the bomb on me – “You know what I think mom, I think the tooth fairy didn’t come because you came in late (I had a massage appointment last night and got back around 9:30) and you forgot I lost my tooth”. OMG – now to me this is a difficult situation – do I fess up or try to keep the tooth fairy alive. I mean seriously, how much longer can he actually believe some person sneaks into his room at night and pays him for a tooth? But if I fess up on the tooth fairy, I can kiss Santa and the Easter Bunny away too and I do LOVE playing Santa. So, I did what any decent parent would do – I looked my loving little boy straight in the eye and lied like a dog!
After a very convincing speech on how the toothy fairy was real which included references to air, God and the perfect man, the things we cannot see but still believe in anyway, he seemed halfway okay with the notion. At this point, I suggest we take Charlie downstairs to go potty. As I do most mornings, I grabbed my phone and acted like I was checking my messages but I was actually pulling my wallet out to get some cash. And of course the ONLY bill I have in my wallet is a $10. I never realized how much this little slip up would actually cost me. So, by this point I stuff the $10 in my waist band and walk onto the back porch where Andrew is trying to talk Charlie into going out in the rain to go tinkle. Thank you God!!! I realize this is my chance. I told Andrew I had to go potty myself and I would be right back. As soon as I got in the door I ran like I stole something. Once I get into Andrew’s room I reach for the money and it is gone –it had fallen out of my waistband. I found it on the stairs – I grab the tooth, lay out the money out and head back down stairs. My goal was to completely jump over the last two steps – but it was dark and I have short legs and the grace of a duck, so I half way hit the last step, stumble and run smack into the front door, where Andrew finds me. And he says “Mom, what are you doing?” I said “Ummmm, I checking to see if our new flowers on the front porch are getting any of this rain water or if we need to water them”. He believed me!!!!!!! Woo hoo. So we check the flowers and then walk back into the kitchen - I get coffee and we head back upstairs.
Andrew likes to sit with me while I get ready for work. We have some of our most meaningful conversations at this time so we once again begin to discuss the tooth fairy. I asked him if he had checked the ground . . . maybe she left him money and it fell behind the desk since his fan was on . . . You should have seen the spark in the kid’s eye! He walked back in a few moments later holding a $10 bill and a look of utter amazement and confusion on his face. I’m not sure if he was perplexed on how the money got there or the fact he got a $10 for his tooth. In all honesty, probably the best $10 I have spent in a very long time . . .
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
The Morning Assault . . .
Anyone who knows me realizes I like dogs more than I like most people. That is for many reasons but mainly because they are completely loyal to you and always seem happy to see you. About 10 years ago I ran a dog rescue out of my home. I lived in a very small town in OK and once they know you take dogs in I pretty much woke up at least twice a week to a new dog on my door step. I personally prefer mutts. They are healthier, do not require a piece of paper to be loved and usually are so darn ugly they are cute.
So about two months ago the kids and I decided to get a dog and of course we checked out the local animal shelters and rescues to find that perfect dog. We spent about two weeks and finally found a dog that met all the rules – the rules were pretty much the fact the dog had to be small since we are currently living in a rental house. That is how we ended up with Charlie.
Charlie is a cross of a mini schnauzer and we think, Jack Russell terrier. Charlie is a very sweet dog. He is not yippy, he is not timid and he loves to play. He is about 7 months old now and is fully potty trained. He sleeps through the night too . . .kinda.
I do not sleep well or much. Typically if I can get 5 hours I am ecstatic so Charlie and I tend to stay up until midnight or after. I get up at 6 to get my much needed cup of coffee in before I get the kids up. However, Charlie has begun what I like to refer to “The Morning Assault”. Again, Charlie is a puppy and puppies like to play. So around 5:30 Charlie wakes up and makes his way to the end of the bed. From what I can tell, he just sits there until I make some sort of move – I am pretty sure if no drastic movement is detected a shallow breath is enough to engage the assault. Once detected, Charlie pounces on me and begins to gnaw and bite and wrestle . . . with my hair. Now, I will give Charlie credit at that time in the morning my hair resembles some sort of scary monster but I don’t THINK it actually fights back. Once the attack has ensued, any attempt on my part to defend myself is taken as a challenge. At this point serious biting, growling and wrestling begins . . . and then Charlie begins to growl and bite back. . .
My attempts to have Charlie sleep with the children have failed miserably. My attempts to keep Charlie up until the wee hours in hopes of him sleeping in have been about as successful as Tony Romo this season. So, I guess I will just realize Charlie is who he is and deal with it . . . Benadryl here we come!
So about two months ago the kids and I decided to get a dog and of course we checked out the local animal shelters and rescues to find that perfect dog. We spent about two weeks and finally found a dog that met all the rules – the rules were pretty much the fact the dog had to be small since we are currently living in a rental house. That is how we ended up with Charlie.
Charlie is a cross of a mini schnauzer and we think, Jack Russell terrier. Charlie is a very sweet dog. He is not yippy, he is not timid and he loves to play. He is about 7 months old now and is fully potty trained. He sleeps through the night too . . .kinda.
I do not sleep well or much. Typically if I can get 5 hours I am ecstatic so Charlie and I tend to stay up until midnight or after. I get up at 6 to get my much needed cup of coffee in before I get the kids up. However, Charlie has begun what I like to refer to “The Morning Assault”. Again, Charlie is a puppy and puppies like to play. So around 5:30 Charlie wakes up and makes his way to the end of the bed. From what I can tell, he just sits there until I make some sort of move – I am pretty sure if no drastic movement is detected a shallow breath is enough to engage the assault. Once detected, Charlie pounces on me and begins to gnaw and bite and wrestle . . . with my hair. Now, I will give Charlie credit at that time in the morning my hair resembles some sort of scary monster but I don’t THINK it actually fights back. Once the attack has ensued, any attempt on my part to defend myself is taken as a challenge. At this point serious biting, growling and wrestling begins . . . and then Charlie begins to growl and bite back. . .
My attempts to have Charlie sleep with the children have failed miserably. My attempts to keep Charlie up until the wee hours in hopes of him sleeping in have been about as successful as Tony Romo this season. So, I guess I will just realize Charlie is who he is and deal with it . . . Benadryl here we come!
Monday, September 28, 2009
First and Ten - Pass the Baby Powder
Have you seen the ESPN commercials where the girl is attending a baby shower and watching a game on her phone? When I first saw that commercial I laughed because I thought it was kinda funny and a little “over the top”. Well, I will no longer laugh at such commercials because if could have, I would have done the same darn thing this past weekend.
I attended a baby shower for the daughter of a friend of mine. By some scheduling error, the baby shower started at 2:00 and the UT game started at 2:30. I figured play a baby game, eat some food, open gifts and we are out of there by 3:30 4:00. But NOOOOO – as usual people come draggin ass in 30 minutes to an hour late. Then everyone has to talk and be introduced and of course they are blocking the TV. Me and three other faithful football fans are parked on the couch watching the game but do you think anyone cares that we missed the fist touchdown because someone wants to see a quilt that has been handed down generation to generation? Nope – so I casually mention the fact that the lighting in the kitchen would probably show the detail work better on the quilt – we got to catch the replay.
By 3:30ish it is announced that we are going to begin the viewing of the gifts. Me and my two football cohorts huddle up and decide pausing the game is the best idea – that way we can fast forward through the commercials when we start it back up. I am looking around at all of the people and glance at the pile of gifts and my first thought is – how many outfits does this girl really need? I mean really – it is a baby that is going to puke and poop on everything – put it in a onesie or one of those sack things to make it easier on everyone. But NOOO – we go through each bag very methodically and each bag contains no less than 5 outfits. Of course we have to hold EACH piece of EACH outfit up so everyone can see it, check the sizing of each piece and then discuss where it can be worn. WTF! So as the pile of gifts dwindles and the clock races forward we are excited to be able to turn the game back on at 5:00.
Just as we are about to hit “play” some seriously LATE arrivals show up for the shower – now I am thinking at this point these people are geniuses. Not only did they miss all the introductions and baby shower “fun” but they have probably been at home watching the game and can still get a piece of the cake. So, we hit the play button at which point one of the new arrivals announces the blowout score of the game. Seriously? Me and my two football friends just give up at this point because it really does spoil the fun when you already know the score. Let’s just skip the cake . . . and go home.
All joking aside - I love my friend and would be there for her or her family at ANY time . . . I just hope she doesn't need me durning the UT vs OU game - LOL.
I attended a baby shower for the daughter of a friend of mine. By some scheduling error, the baby shower started at 2:00 and the UT game started at 2:30. I figured play a baby game, eat some food, open gifts and we are out of there by 3:30 4:00. But NOOOOO – as usual people come draggin ass in 30 minutes to an hour late. Then everyone has to talk and be introduced and of course they are blocking the TV. Me and three other faithful football fans are parked on the couch watching the game but do you think anyone cares that we missed the fist touchdown because someone wants to see a quilt that has been handed down generation to generation? Nope – so I casually mention the fact that the lighting in the kitchen would probably show the detail work better on the quilt – we got to catch the replay.
By 3:30ish it is announced that we are going to begin the viewing of the gifts. Me and my two football cohorts huddle up and decide pausing the game is the best idea – that way we can fast forward through the commercials when we start it back up. I am looking around at all of the people and glance at the pile of gifts and my first thought is – how many outfits does this girl really need? I mean really – it is a baby that is going to puke and poop on everything – put it in a onesie or one of those sack things to make it easier on everyone. But NOOO – we go through each bag very methodically and each bag contains no less than 5 outfits. Of course we have to hold EACH piece of EACH outfit up so everyone can see it, check the sizing of each piece and then discuss where it can be worn. WTF! So as the pile of gifts dwindles and the clock races forward we are excited to be able to turn the game back on at 5:00.
Just as we are about to hit “play” some seriously LATE arrivals show up for the shower – now I am thinking at this point these people are geniuses. Not only did they miss all the introductions and baby shower “fun” but they have probably been at home watching the game and can still get a piece of the cake. So, we hit the play button at which point one of the new arrivals announces the blowout score of the game. Seriously? Me and my two football friends just give up at this point because it really does spoil the fun when you already know the score. Let’s just skip the cake . . . and go home.
All joking aside - I love my friend and would be there for her or her family at ANY time . . . I just hope she doesn't need me durning the UT vs OU game - LOL.
Friday, September 25, 2009
9 Tips for Dating - Shelly's Translation
Okay, so I just read an article on Yahoo! titled “9 Signs a Guy is a Keeper”. While I agree with most of them I think I shall interpret them further.
Tip #1 – He has his act together – Shelly translation – he can get his ass out of bed and make it to work on time or get the kids to school or yes, even make it to church on occasion since there seems to be no problem getting out of bed for golf, football or fishing.
Tip #2 – He puts you first – Shelly translation –when you park to go into a store and get out of the car, you don’t have to sprint to catch up with him before he walks through the door. Or your birthday/anniversary comes around and you get to go to dinner with him . . . rather than hoping to see him on the jumbo-tron at some sporting event.
Tip #3 – He’s not afraid of your germs. Shelly Translation – he will actually hand you a Kleenex instead of throwing the box from across the room in fear of your infectiousness.
Tip #4 – He’s a family man – Shelly translation – he knows family member’s by their names (other than mother, father and sibling) rather than referring to them as the "short fat one" or the "geek with no hair" or "pat".
Tip #5 – He makes time for your friends – Shelly translation – he would like to hang out with you and your friends regardless of boob size, child sitting availability in the future or season tickets he/she may own.
Tip #6 – He’s your Biggest Cheerleader – Shelly translation – he is not whiny when you want to go shopping or to dinner with friends rather than sitting at home watching him watch TV.
Tip #7- He remembers the little things – Shelly translation – He knows your birthday or that you worried about an upcoming meeting rather than who was named to the football hall of fame in 1987 or who won the British Open in 1995.
Tip # 8 – He’s Happy When Your Happy – Shelly Translation – he is genuinely happy to do things you like to do just to see you smile – not because he thinks he will get laid or sexual favors for “doing stupid things” like shopping or just taking a walk.
Tip #9 – He makes you the best you can be – Shelly translation – you feel good about yourself when you are around him – rather than plotting ways to secretly cause pain to his person or booby-trap his “precious little car”.
These are just my thoughts and feelings and I realize they are not for the masses – but then again, neither am I!
Tip #1 – He has his act together – Shelly translation – he can get his ass out of bed and make it to work on time or get the kids to school or yes, even make it to church on occasion since there seems to be no problem getting out of bed for golf, football or fishing.
Tip #2 – He puts you first – Shelly translation –when you park to go into a store and get out of the car, you don’t have to sprint to catch up with him before he walks through the door. Or your birthday/anniversary comes around and you get to go to dinner with him . . . rather than hoping to see him on the jumbo-tron at some sporting event.
Tip #3 – He’s not afraid of your germs. Shelly Translation – he will actually hand you a Kleenex instead of throwing the box from across the room in fear of your infectiousness.
Tip #4 – He’s a family man – Shelly translation – he knows family member’s by their names (other than mother, father and sibling) rather than referring to them as the "short fat one" or the "geek with no hair" or "pat".
Tip #5 – He makes time for your friends – Shelly translation – he would like to hang out with you and your friends regardless of boob size, child sitting availability in the future or season tickets he/she may own.
Tip #6 – He’s your Biggest Cheerleader – Shelly translation – he is not whiny when you want to go shopping or to dinner with friends rather than sitting at home watching him watch TV.
Tip #7- He remembers the little things – Shelly translation – He knows your birthday or that you worried about an upcoming meeting rather than who was named to the football hall of fame in 1987 or who won the British Open in 1995.
Tip # 8 – He’s Happy When Your Happy – Shelly Translation – he is genuinely happy to do things you like to do just to see you smile – not because he thinks he will get laid or sexual favors for “doing stupid things” like shopping or just taking a walk.
Tip #9 – He makes you the best you can be – Shelly translation – you feel good about yourself when you are around him – rather than plotting ways to secretly cause pain to his person or booby-trap his “precious little car”.
These are just my thoughts and feelings and I realize they are not for the masses – but then again, neither am I!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I like fish tanks. I think watching fish swim is very relaxing so for the past 5 or 6 years I have kept a Beta in my office. My first beta was named Dirk – he was a pretty blue and I got him during basketball season . . . so of course I named him after my favorite Mav. Dirk must have been the exception to the rule because he lived for almost two years. Once he “passed” I waited a respectable amount of time and went and got another fish – this time we named him Sam. I called to check on Sam while I was on vacation and asked my friend in the office, Amanda Griffith, if she was feeding Sam. She replied yes but when I got back from my vacation I noticed the fish bowl was empty. Apparently, Sam kicked the bucket while I was gone and Amanda did not want to ruin my vacation . . . she is sweet in that way. After Sam, I got Charlie . . . Charlie barely made it two weeks – not really sure what his problem was but he was just not meant to be. Last week, I got another fish – I did not tell anyone in the office about the new fish, nor did I name it – it was a very busy and hectic day – way too hectic to attempt to name a fish. So the next morning when I arrived at work I am looking in the bowl and there is no fish. As I begin to look around I finally find him – dead, dried out like a piece of leather on my desk calendar. He landed and flapped around on Tuesday September 1 and made his way over to Wednesday September 2 as there are little fish scales on those dates. But here are the two big questions – do I strip off the September calendar and just be without a calendar for September? And secondly – why did my fish commit suicide? In answer to my first question, Steve, my big boss, came up with a great solution – we just put sticky notes over those two days so I do not have too look at the crime scene. As for the second question I guess I will never know what early fishood tragedy caused him to jump from his bowl. Many in my office think that fish suicide is a sign that I should probably NOT get another fish . . . but I disagree – now it is more of a quest, a challenge to find the perfect fish . . . that can survive for at least 6 months to year. So now, I have Griff - he has been alive and swimming for 3 days now - we are off to a good start! And I have named him Griff in honor of Amanda Griffith, because when she returns we will not longer have a Griffith - he name will be Harvey . . . Congrats Amanda HARVEY!!!!!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Please Mom, No E-Harmony . . .
How do you know when you may need help? Well, maybe it is when one of your children begs you, I mean begs you not try E-Harmony. Now, I am not single yet and even when I do become single I somehow doubt I will try E-Harmony. But after 5 seconds of reflection I had to ask . . . why, son, are you so against E-harmony? Apparently, his father had a date via E-harmony prior to meeting his current girlfriend, who we really like, and I am not sure how it went on the actual date, but for my son it was one of those “scarring” experiences of childhood. Apparently, (can you tell I work with lawyers?) when said date took place the kids were left with a babysitter and the sitter watched my two kiddos and the child of the “other woman”. During this date Andrew and the other child was goaded into fighting and then the other child apparently yielded some type of pipe and began to hit my lovely little boy. His sister, aka She-rah Princess of Power, came to his rescue. Therefore I have sworn off E-Harmony! Not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of my children. I will also swear off Cool River and any place that still allows smoking.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Pardon me but your breast is hanging out . . .
When I woke up this morning my first thought was “When did I start smoking again?” I smoked for almost 12 years and quit about 8.5 years ago. Anyway, I quickly realized that I had not started smoking again but had frequented a night club outside Austin City Limits. If you are inside the city limits there is no smoking in public places but Cool River aka “The Meat Market” is in Round Rock and therefore smoking is allowed inside in designated areas only. Now, in my opinion having a smoking section inside a building is kinda like having a peeing section in a swimming pool.
My experience at Cool River was one of horror, amazement and complete hilarity. I have not been out dancing with the girls in probably 12 years or so. Heck, I have been to a bar like that since college. My cohorts got there first and I have to tell ya – these girls LOVE to dance. I am more of a two-stepping kinda girl, but when the band broke out with some “Pour Some Sugar On Me” you know I hit the dance floor.
However, what truly amazes me is this – I am guessing 85% of the women in that bar ages 21 to 55 broke MY cardinal rule. Now, I can actually see why the 21 year olds may think it is okay to leave the house without a bra but I can under no circumstances see why someone over the age of 26 would dream of it – unless of course the wares are after market accessories and I did not see any of those. For goodness sake women – please invest in a strapless bra or at the bare minimum some pasties! I know you think that halter-top has the ability to lift and separate but cotton stretches, the knot comes loose and you end up just hanging out all over the place. I saw more nipples last night than I do when walking down the baby bottle isle at the grocery store. And they only comment I will make on the teeny tiny mini skirts is please – put on some panties or wax.
Secondly, the men who stand around the dance floor for their viewing pleasure really creep me out. I watched two guys who scoped the dance floor out for about 10 minutes and then they would jump out there and start dancing. It was not difficult to figure out their grand (mating) plan – they looked for the woman/women who appeared to be the most trashed and were in need of assistance of not falling on their ass. This gives the said vultures the grand opportunity to bump, grind and grope at will.
All in all it was grand fun and I cannot wait to go out with the girls again – but this time I will suggest someplace inside Austin city limits . . . I wonder if any have a No shirt, No bra, No service policy?
My experience at Cool River was one of horror, amazement and complete hilarity. I have not been out dancing with the girls in probably 12 years or so. Heck, I have been to a bar like that since college. My cohorts got there first and I have to tell ya – these girls LOVE to dance. I am more of a two-stepping kinda girl, but when the band broke out with some “Pour Some Sugar On Me” you know I hit the dance floor.
However, what truly amazes me is this – I am guessing 85% of the women in that bar ages 21 to 55 broke MY cardinal rule. Now, I can actually see why the 21 year olds may think it is okay to leave the house without a bra but I can under no circumstances see why someone over the age of 26 would dream of it – unless of course the wares are after market accessories and I did not see any of those. For goodness sake women – please invest in a strapless bra or at the bare minimum some pasties! I know you think that halter-top has the ability to lift and separate but cotton stretches, the knot comes loose and you end up just hanging out all over the place. I saw more nipples last night than I do when walking down the baby bottle isle at the grocery store. And they only comment I will make on the teeny tiny mini skirts is please – put on some panties or wax.
Secondly, the men who stand around the dance floor for their viewing pleasure really creep me out. I watched two guys who scoped the dance floor out for about 10 minutes and then they would jump out there and start dancing. It was not difficult to figure out their grand (mating) plan – they looked for the woman/women who appeared to be the most trashed and were in need of assistance of not falling on their ass. This gives the said vultures the grand opportunity to bump, grind and grope at will.
All in all it was grand fun and I cannot wait to go out with the girls again – but this time I will suggest someplace inside Austin city limits . . . I wonder if any have a No shirt, No bra, No service policy?
Sunday, August 2, 2009
I give that dive an A for effort - now give me my meds.
I have officially become closer to 40 than my mid 30’s. I came to this conclusion tonight after a play session with Charlie ( my new rescue dog)and attempting to get up off the floor. My knees hurt, my lower back feels as if someone has vise grip on it and as usual, my ankles pop loud enough to startle the dog or wake a sleeping baby. Actually, when my little ones were very little, I did not walk out of the room after putting them down to sleep. Rather I shuffled my feet along the carpet without bending my ankles at all because when I first start walking my ankles pop so loud they actually woke up my new born infants
Anyway, I have been struggling for a few weeks now. At first I blamed it on the move. You know packing boxes, hauling boxes upstairs, running from the neighbor because you don’t have a bra on – those types of things. But the soreness never really went away. So, then I blamed it on my brother, Monty. Which I guess technically is was not his fault but I was at his house last weekend. Then the “kid” who was on the dive team for TCU was teaching Andrew how to do back flips and for some darn reason the phrase “I can do that” came out of my mouth and of course I had to try to do a back flip off the dive board. Now, I did not really get it on my first try, nor my second, third . . . eighth – you get the picture. But I talked myself into believing that the reason my body parts hurt was directly correlated to the back/butt/side/ head busters I ended up doing in my brother’s pool – or of course there is the fact the dive board has very little spring to it and I obviously need some spring.
Then tonight I had to refill my “pill box” (yes, I have a pill box broken down into AM/PM for all types of stuff that should make me live forever) and I realized that I have not been taking my glucosamine for almost 3 weeks now! Which really excited me for about a minute. I am not old! I am not hurting because I tried to do back flips off an un-bouncy board – I just have not taken my meds . . . OMG – I am old.
Anyway, I have been struggling for a few weeks now. At first I blamed it on the move. You know packing boxes, hauling boxes upstairs, running from the neighbor because you don’t have a bra on – those types of things. But the soreness never really went away. So, then I blamed it on my brother, Monty. Which I guess technically is was not his fault but I was at his house last weekend. Then the “kid” who was on the dive team for TCU was teaching Andrew how to do back flips and for some darn reason the phrase “I can do that” came out of my mouth and of course I had to try to do a back flip off the dive board. Now, I did not really get it on my first try, nor my second, third . . . eighth – you get the picture. But I talked myself into believing that the reason my body parts hurt was directly correlated to the back/butt/side/ head busters I ended up doing in my brother’s pool – or of course there is the fact the dive board has very little spring to it and I obviously need some spring.
Then tonight I had to refill my “pill box” (yes, I have a pill box broken down into AM/PM for all types of stuff that should make me live forever) and I realized that I have not been taking my glucosamine for almost 3 weeks now! Which really excited me for about a minute. I am not old! I am not hurting because I tried to do back flips off an un-bouncy board – I just have not taken my meds . . . OMG – I am old.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
K Fed is Apparently Fat
I am just wondering what it says about our society when I pull up Yahoo! and one of the top stories is Kevin Federline’s recent weight gain. I mean seriously, it was bad enough that every time you turned on the TV for the past 3 weeks all you could see was Michael Jackson’s children being exploited, or questioning how many plastic surgeries he actually had. But K Fed? I mean this guys claim to fame was he was married to Brittany Spears and has to actually care for his own children because Brittany has the mothering skills of Margret White or Andrea Yates.
By the way, when my kids heard of Michael’s death Andrew was very, very upset. He came to me teary eyed and said “Mom, I can’t believe Michael Jackson is dead.” And when I hugged him and asked him why his reply was “He was the best basketball player ever . . . “
By the way, when my kids heard of Michael’s death Andrew was very, very upset. He came to me teary eyed and said “Mom, I can’t believe Michael Jackson is dead.” And when I hugged him and asked him why his reply was “He was the best basketball player ever . . . “
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Goodbye Phoebe
A great sadness has entered our new little home. Sunday evening when the kids and I returned home, Madison noticed something wrong with our hamster, Phoebe. I had noticed over the past several days she was not eating much and she was not playing at night like she usually did. Madison said it looked like something was wrong with one of her front legs. When I reached in a picked her up she started SCREECHING. OMG – I have never heard anything of the like. Such a loud sound coming from a small little fur ball was unsettling. Phoebe also had a very bad odor to her. Yes, I know that most hamsters tend to have a smell but Phoebe had always been very clean so the stench that arose was surprising. When I calmed her down, I noticed the entire left side her body was very swollen and it was different from her stuffing her pouches.
I called the emergency vet and they asked a number of questions and then told me to go ahead and bring her in – but if there were kids in the house to prepare them because she would likely not be coming home. Turns out Phoebe had a huge tumor! The vet said they could grow in rodents (how dare he call my sweet Phoebe a rodent) very, very quickly. So, I had her put to sleep. They wrapped her in a little cloth and I took her home. Now Phoebe lies in burial in the front flowerbed.
The kids were upset for about 27 seconds before they asked if we could get a dog . . .
I called the emergency vet and they asked a number of questions and then told me to go ahead and bring her in – but if there were kids in the house to prepare them because she would likely not be coming home. Turns out Phoebe had a huge tumor! The vet said they could grow in rodents (how dare he call my sweet Phoebe a rodent) very, very quickly. So, I had her put to sleep. They wrapped her in a little cloth and I took her home. Now Phoebe lies in burial in the front flowerbed.
The kids were upset for about 27 seconds before they asked if we could get a dog . . .
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Now with REAL Chicken
Madison, Andrew and I were discussing our trip to Waco tonight. They are heading back to Dallas for the weekend. It is Cliff’s birthday and they have some activities planned for Friday night so he asked that I bring them tonight.
As we were eating lunch today, we were discussing where to stop for dinner tonight – our Waco Tradition. I personally loathe most of the fast food giants – McDonalds, Burger King and the like and luckily, my kids too prefer the more upscale eateries such as Chick-Fil-A and Subway. Madison of course suggested Magic China as she has a fondness for fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and hot tea. Andrew, however, prefers more traditional food aka chicken nuggets. So Madison suggested that she and I east at Magic China and we stop on our way at Wendy’s and pick up Andrew’s favorite meal – the 10 piece chicken nugget and fry combo. To our amazement, he said he would no longer be eating at Wendy’s! Madison asked him why and he said he was really bothered by a recent commercial he saw in which Wendy’s was advertising their NEW chicken nuggets that are “NOW made with real chicken”. He wonders now, as do many, what the heck are actually in the aforementioned chicken nuggets?
Now, I have told my children they may ask me any question and I will give them the best answer I can but that even though I am older than dirt – there are a few things I do not know. This is one of those questions that I do not have a good answer for and in all honesty, I am scared to death to find out. It is kinda like asking what exactly is in a hot dog . . . Andrew and I do not eat hot dogs either (well once a year at the fair we share a corn dog, but that is deep fried and doesn’t count as a hot dog any longer). I mean seriously, I will go to Sonic and order a foot long chili cheese dog and ask them to hold the weenie . . . which always gets a chuckle or “What did you say?” and I tell them all I want is the bread, chili, cheese and onions. I refuse to ask the question “What is the chili made of?”
As we were eating lunch today, we were discussing where to stop for dinner tonight – our Waco Tradition. I personally loathe most of the fast food giants – McDonalds, Burger King and the like and luckily, my kids too prefer the more upscale eateries such as Chick-Fil-A and Subway. Madison of course suggested Magic China as she has a fondness for fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and hot tea. Andrew, however, prefers more traditional food aka chicken nuggets. So Madison suggested that she and I east at Magic China and we stop on our way at Wendy’s and pick up Andrew’s favorite meal – the 10 piece chicken nugget and fry combo. To our amazement, he said he would no longer be eating at Wendy’s! Madison asked him why and he said he was really bothered by a recent commercial he saw in which Wendy’s was advertising their NEW chicken nuggets that are “NOW made with real chicken”. He wonders now, as do many, what the heck are actually in the aforementioned chicken nuggets?
Now, I have told my children they may ask me any question and I will give them the best answer I can but that even though I am older than dirt – there are a few things I do not know. This is one of those questions that I do not have a good answer for and in all honesty, I am scared to death to find out. It is kinda like asking what exactly is in a hot dog . . . Andrew and I do not eat hot dogs either (well once a year at the fair we share a corn dog, but that is deep fried and doesn’t count as a hot dog any longer). I mean seriously, I will go to Sonic and order a foot long chili cheese dog and ask them to hold the weenie . . . which always gets a chuckle or “What did you say?” and I tell them all I want is the bread, chili, cheese and onions. I refuse to ask the question “What is the chili made of?”
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
So I am the Office Mom - I Have Been Called Worse
I think it is high time address the fact that I am known as "The Office Mom". Now, anyone who knows me would probably agree that I am borderline ADD or ADHD. However, since traditional medications have the opposite effect on me, I tend to deal with any "problems" and use them to my advantage. Thus the simple term multi-tasking does not really apply to me - I tend to me more of a contained tornado or a positive "El Nino" effect.
I am motherly by nature - or bossy - which ever you choose to call it. I like to help others and tend to have some creative ideas on what to do / not to do. I also have the unfortunate characteristic of being blatantly honest - to a fault. If you want an honest answer - ask me - if you want to feel better about yourself even though that outfit would look better on a corpse - don't' ask.
But motherly instinct has landed me in the position of listening to many of my coworkers on different issues and problems. I have also landed to position of taking care of all celebrations of the office. WHICH I LOVE. I get to plan activities and parties for the people I spend most of my time. I love these people -they have been with me through so many parts of my life. They are the ones I look forward to seeing everyday, they are the ones who always give me sound advice an they are the ones who love me for me. However recent advice from certain individuals would qualify as borderline insane and I have chosen to disregard - sorry. I appreciate the effort but it is best left in the 1940's.
So I don't mind loading the dishwasher, cleaning the tables and microwave, picking up stuff left over from parties and the God forsaken Friday activity - The Cleaning of the Fridge. Well I kinda do mind the cleaning of the fridge cause I just have to say - some of that stuff in there is just plain NASTY and I am pretty sure toxic.
However I do not stock the snacks, I do not keep up with the toner for the printers and I am certainly not Paul's keeper (well sometimes but only on occasion). I do not do laundry or ironing, I do not do windows and I refuse to keep a snake in my office - however I appreciate the offer Steve.
Therefore, I proudly take up the name office mom. The definition I found that I liked best is: Mom: something or someone that gives rise to or exercises protecting care over something or someone else. I will take care of all my fellow co-workers, friends and family members as needed. I do not ask many questions and legality is not typically not an issue for me.
Side note: just because I am "The Office Mom" does NOT mean I am old. Nor does the fact that I wear a watch (aka fashion accessories) mean I an ancient. I just like to take care of my peeps and be punctual.
I am motherly by nature - or bossy - which ever you choose to call it. I like to help others and tend to have some creative ideas on what to do / not to do. I also have the unfortunate characteristic of being blatantly honest - to a fault. If you want an honest answer - ask me - if you want to feel better about yourself even though that outfit would look better on a corpse - don't' ask.
But motherly instinct has landed me in the position of listening to many of my coworkers on different issues and problems. I have also landed to position of taking care of all celebrations of the office. WHICH I LOVE. I get to plan activities and parties for the people I spend most of my time. I love these people -they have been with me through so many parts of my life. They are the ones I look forward to seeing everyday, they are the ones who always give me sound advice an they are the ones who love me for me. However recent advice from certain individuals would qualify as borderline insane and I have chosen to disregard - sorry. I appreciate the effort but it is best left in the 1940's.
So I don't mind loading the dishwasher, cleaning the tables and microwave, picking up stuff left over from parties and the God forsaken Friday activity - The Cleaning of the Fridge. Well I kinda do mind the cleaning of the fridge cause I just have to say - some of that stuff in there is just plain NASTY and I am pretty sure toxic.
However I do not stock the snacks, I do not keep up with the toner for the printers and I am certainly not Paul's keeper (well sometimes but only on occasion). I do not do laundry or ironing, I do not do windows and I refuse to keep a snake in my office - however I appreciate the offer Steve.
Therefore, I proudly take up the name office mom. The definition I found that I liked best is: Mom: something or someone that gives rise to or exercises protecting care over something or someone else. I will take care of all my fellow co-workers, friends and family members as needed. I do not ask many questions and legality is not typically not an issue for me.
Side note: just because I am "The Office Mom" does NOT mean I am old. Nor does the fact that I wear a watch (aka fashion accessories) mean I an ancient. I just like to take care of my peeps and be punctual.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
If I Kill It - I should Probably Eat It.
Okay so everyone knows that I am one of the biggest animal people ever - I mean I do like dogs more than I like most people - just because with a dog you know what you get. You get a nose in the crotch "aka the dogs personal playground", you get the feeling of being needed and wanted all at the same time and if you are lucky, you get a great cuddle bug.
Anyway, my kids both have inherited my love me of animals. We actually saw an armadillo today on the road - we were at a stop sign and the kids were almost crying because apparently this poor creature had been hit and drug down the road. What was left of its carcass was in a neat little package right beside the car for the kids to gawk at.
A few weeks ago Andrew and I were on a run. And he asked me what we were having for dinner. I told him fried catfish. Andrew is not a fish eater so I was really surprised that he said he wanted to go try the fish because he was told in order for him to go fishing he needed to be able to eat what he caught. So I said "great!!! You should try the fish"
Then as we ran a little longer, he said "I think I want to go hunting". Now this surprised mye since Andrew still cries when he talks about my parent's dog dying last year. And he went on to tell me that he was told that in order to go hunting he needed to be ready to eat what ever he killed. I told him I thought that was a great idea - then he said "Well, I guess I better shoot a cow". OMG I about died right there in the middle of the street because he was seriously thinking that he could go and just hunt and shoot a cow. So I asked him about chicken and he said "I can eat chicken . . . I could shoot a chicken."
I love the way a child's mind works . . .
Anyway, my kids both have inherited my love me of animals. We actually saw an armadillo today on the road - we were at a stop sign and the kids were almost crying because apparently this poor creature had been hit and drug down the road. What was left of its carcass was in a neat little package right beside the car for the kids to gawk at.
A few weeks ago Andrew and I were on a run. And he asked me what we were having for dinner. I told him fried catfish. Andrew is not a fish eater so I was really surprised that he said he wanted to go try the fish because he was told in order for him to go fishing he needed to be able to eat what he caught. So I said "great!!! You should try the fish"
Then as we ran a little longer, he said "I think I want to go hunting". Now this surprised mye since Andrew still cries when he talks about my parent's dog dying last year. And he went on to tell me that he was told that in order to go hunting he needed to be ready to eat what ever he killed. I told him I thought that was a great idea - then he said "Well, I guess I better shoot a cow". OMG I about died right there in the middle of the street because he was seriously thinking that he could go and just hunt and shoot a cow. So I asked him about chicken and he said "I can eat chicken . . . I could shoot a chicken."
I love the way a child's mind works . . .
I am no longer ther newest people in the neighborhood!
A new family has moved in one house down! They have an almost 5 year old boy named Alex and a 9 year old girl, Olivia. Now Olvia is not blonde but apparently she is still hot because Andrew is all in a tithy. We just went swimming with the new neighbors and had a fabulous time. God is Good to put such wonderful people in our life so quickly.
On another front - we now have two new betas in the house. Madison has a red one and she named him Booth - from Bones. Andrew's fish is a blue/green and his name is Max. Thank goodness there was not a pet deposit for the fish!
Anyway, we are completely settled in and have most of what we need - now I will begin with the wants! I want a dog but will need to save up for the pet deposit. Then there are lots of peices of furniture I would love to have for the hosue but I look forward to finding these treasurers at garage and estate sales or consignment shops.
Andrew and I are going to make cookies . . . and then we are all making homeade pizza's for dinner. Have a good evening!
On another front - we now have two new betas in the house. Madison has a red one and she named him Booth - from Bones. Andrew's fish is a blue/green and his name is Max. Thank goodness there was not a pet deposit for the fish!
Anyway, we are completely settled in and have most of what we need - now I will begin with the wants! I want a dog but will need to save up for the pet deposit. Then there are lots of peices of furniture I would love to have for the hosue but I look forward to finding these treasurers at garage and estate sales or consignment shops.
Andrew and I are going to make cookies . . . and then we are all making homeade pizza's for dinner. Have a good evening!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Can I Get an AMEN!
So, I am sitting at my brother’s house in Grapevine waiting to go pick up my kids. I am really excited and ready to see them. They have been with their dad for a week now and I think that is just a bit too long . . . I am sure he thinks other wise.
So one of the girls in our office is moving and since I just completed a move I have a lot of boxes for her – yeah! I hate to waste anything. So I told her I would bring them to her at work. Well when I got home last night, I spoke to Kate (my next door neighbor) and she was telling me the low down on the other people in the neighborhood. The guy that lives door to her, I think Todd, is the social butterfly of the area. Apparently he is the person who knows EVERYONE. After getting all the details I had to run some errands. I came home and it was close to 9:30 and I hit the shower. And of course I think of packing boxes – by the way I have not put them in my car yet. So I throw on my PJ’s (and I am sorry to disappoint but they are shorts and a tank) and head out to the garage. As I am loading up the last of the boxes "Todd" comes out of his front door. It is like he has radar – he sees me and yells “Hello there” and begins heading my way. OMG! Now normally I am more than social and love to meet new people but I was so not in the mood or the clothes to be talking to anyone in the driveway. So I did what any good new neighbor would do – I ran like hell. I hit the garage door button and think I saw Todd’s sneakers just as the door met the ground.
I am not so vain as to not want people to see me without make-up or my hair drippin wet. But I do live by one rule – you NEVER and I mean NEVER leave the house without a bra. Which most people who know me probably don’t get it since I am not …. Well blessed in that way. But I was raised Southern Baptist and while they never mentioned that as one of the great sins (dancing, fornicating and apparently women having a job or an opinion) I am pretty sure that is why I have such a strong aversion to built in bra’s (which really don’t’ work) and the lack of bras altogether. So, I will have to make cookies or some other “forgive me” gift and take over – fully clothed.
Okay, that is it for now. I hope you all have a great Friday evening and I will blog you soon . . . Peace
So one of the girls in our office is moving and since I just completed a move I have a lot of boxes for her – yeah! I hate to waste anything. So I told her I would bring them to her at work. Well when I got home last night, I spoke to Kate (my next door neighbor) and she was telling me the low down on the other people in the neighborhood. The guy that lives door to her, I think Todd, is the social butterfly of the area. Apparently he is the person who knows EVERYONE. After getting all the details I had to run some errands. I came home and it was close to 9:30 and I hit the shower. And of course I think of packing boxes – by the way I have not put them in my car yet. So I throw on my PJ’s (and I am sorry to disappoint but they are shorts and a tank) and head out to the garage. As I am loading up the last of the boxes "Todd" comes out of his front door. It is like he has radar – he sees me and yells “Hello there” and begins heading my way. OMG! Now normally I am more than social and love to meet new people but I was so not in the mood or the clothes to be talking to anyone in the driveway. So I did what any good new neighbor would do – I ran like hell. I hit the garage door button and think I saw Todd’s sneakers just as the door met the ground.
I am not so vain as to not want people to see me without make-up or my hair drippin wet. But I do live by one rule – you NEVER and I mean NEVER leave the house without a bra. Which most people who know me probably don’t get it since I am not …. Well blessed in that way. But I was raised Southern Baptist and while they never mentioned that as one of the great sins (dancing, fornicating and apparently women having a job or an opinion) I am pretty sure that is why I have such a strong aversion to built in bra’s (which really don’t’ work) and the lack of bras altogether. So, I will have to make cookies or some other “forgive me” gift and take over – fully clothed.
Okay, that is it for now. I hope you all have a great Friday evening and I will blog you soon . . . Peace
Thursday, July 9, 2009
My New Life Deserves a Blog
Most of you are aware that I have recently started a new chapter in my life . . . so in honor of the momentous occasion I have decided to start a blog. Woo hoo!
I am sure most of my information will pertain to my children who are an endless source of fun, amazement and hilarity and likely our hamster, Phoebe, who always finds a way out of her cage.
The most exciting news as of late is I have finally settled on a name for my new beta . . . his name is Charlie. I know this may not seem like much, but alas my children are still in Dallas with their father and my sources of entertainment have been few and far between this week. Phoebe is not the best company as she does not like to cuddle on the couch and tends to pee too often to keep out for any great length of time.
I am excited about the fact my new house is only 2 blocks from the elementary school Andrew will be attending and 2 blocks from the community swimming pool. I have the house completely unpacked and it is ready for the goats . . . I mean kiddos to come home. I met some of my neighbors over the past few days. Two little boys live across the street ages 4 and 8. When speaking with the father (who is apparently the soon to be ex-husband and no longer living there) informed me that there were a few smaller kids, under the age of two who live close. There is also some man they have nicknamed “The Hermit” because he rarely comes out of his house. Then there are two young girls, ages 11 and 9, who live down the street. When informing my kids of the possible play / schoolmates in the area, Andrew was more concerned if the girls were blonde rather than details on the boy closer to his age. Go figure.
My next door neighbor is a sweet girl by the name of Kate. She is single and her boyfriend stays with her on occasion. She told me not to be startled by his appearance as he has a long scraggly beard and wears t-shirt – I am just glad it was t-shirts and not wife beaters. I now have a vision of Chong (from Cheech and Chong and if you don’t who they are you are probably too young to be reading my blog) in my mind and wonder if he also wears headbands. She also informed me that the people who live directly behind me tend to have loud parties in the back yard about once a month. She mentioned speakers, singing and drums. This should be interesting . . . because I have always wanted to learn to play the drums . . .
Tomorrow I go to Dallas to pick up my kiddos and bring them to our new casa . . . I am excited and nervous all at the same time. I am sure Phoebe will be excited for them to come home so my time will be occupied elsewhere.
I am sure most of my information will pertain to my children who are an endless source of fun, amazement and hilarity and likely our hamster, Phoebe, who always finds a way out of her cage.
The most exciting news as of late is I have finally settled on a name for my new beta . . . his name is Charlie. I know this may not seem like much, but alas my children are still in Dallas with their father and my sources of entertainment have been few and far between this week. Phoebe is not the best company as she does not like to cuddle on the couch and tends to pee too often to keep out for any great length of time.
I am excited about the fact my new house is only 2 blocks from the elementary school Andrew will be attending and 2 blocks from the community swimming pool. I have the house completely unpacked and it is ready for the goats . . . I mean kiddos to come home. I met some of my neighbors over the past few days. Two little boys live across the street ages 4 and 8. When speaking with the father (who is apparently the soon to be ex-husband and no longer living there) informed me that there were a few smaller kids, under the age of two who live close. There is also some man they have nicknamed “The Hermit” because he rarely comes out of his house. Then there are two young girls, ages 11 and 9, who live down the street. When informing my kids of the possible play / schoolmates in the area, Andrew was more concerned if the girls were blonde rather than details on the boy closer to his age. Go figure.
My next door neighbor is a sweet girl by the name of Kate. She is single and her boyfriend stays with her on occasion. She told me not to be startled by his appearance as he has a long scraggly beard and wears t-shirt – I am just glad it was t-shirts and not wife beaters. I now have a vision of Chong (from Cheech and Chong and if you don’t who they are you are probably too young to be reading my blog) in my mind and wonder if he also wears headbands. She also informed me that the people who live directly behind me tend to have loud parties in the back yard about once a month. She mentioned speakers, singing and drums. This should be interesting . . . because I have always wanted to learn to play the drums . . .
Tomorrow I go to Dallas to pick up my kiddos and bring them to our new casa . . . I am excited and nervous all at the same time. I am sure Phoebe will be excited for them to come home so my time will be occupied elsewhere.
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