One Flew Out of the Cuckoo's Nest

Well, Boog finally moved out of the house. She is now a Bryan/College Station resident. School starts next week for her. The move was relatively uneventful. She forgot all of her hanging clothes in her closet, so she should be back in a day or so to get those. And she got lost on the way to her new apartment. Hubs and I got there about an hour before they did, even though we left thirty minutes later... but we DID have a navigation system. She eventually made it and I know she will learn that path without the need of a map. Her apartment was cute... and pretty nice for a first place. We bought her a bunch of "getting started" stuff - like a broom and toilet paper and towels. So she should be all set. She had no food, but she has a car and money, so she should be able to figure that out. The grounds are actually pretty nicely landscaped and even has green grass (something I haven't seen in while with our Austin dry spell). We met two of her three roommates, who seem to be very nice. There was nothing too overtly weird about them. But these days, who knows? We left her on Saturday and I haven't talked to her since. I'm determined not to call her and just wait until she calls me. (hint-hint, Boog). Of course, if I don't hear from her soon, I'll break down. Letting go of your kids is easier than I would have thought, and harder than I would have thought at the same time. I didn't cry, she didn't cry... Pumpkin cried enough for all of us. But she is fine now and I don't think she even remembers that Boog is gone. It's not like she was around the house all the time anyhow. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Although I would bet the moment she sets eyes on Boog, Pumpkin is going to go ballistic! I just don't want it to go completely smooth... I still want to be needed! But that is something that I will have to get over. Because it seems that she is going to figure all of this out and I'll just be her mom, and not her caregiver. Well, isn't that the goal? I guess I'll try to be happy that I raised such a capable young lady. Now for her brother... ugh.

Lesson Learned

I learned a very important lesson a few nights ago. Do not drink and cook. It’s not as dangerous as drinking and driving, but you can still get hurt.

After enjoying a strong vodka tonic (thanks, CGMan), I hurried home to finish making stew for the family. All I had to do was cut up the carrots and throw them in. I got straight to work.

I was all excited about a new knife that was cutting through these carrots like they were made out of butter. And since I was in a hurry, it was perfect. When all of a sudden pain and blood everywhere. Boog’s first response was something like, “again, mom?” Apparently, I cut myself a lot when I am cooking.

Well, no cuts like this one. Hubs ran to get me a Band-Aid as I tried to stop the bleeding by squeezing it with a paper towel. I took off the paper towel a few moments later to get a peek at the damage and saw a gaping wound. I apparently sliced nearly half through my thumb. Yuck. Well, to heck with the stew or the Band-Aid, time to go to the ER.

I held it together in front of the kids, but once we were in the truck driving down the road, I started to get sick. I apparently passed out on my way to the ER from the pain, but pulled it together once again while we were there. And good thing too, as they made me wait three hours! Bastards. Although I think it was more because there were people more hurt ahead of me, rather than them just being mean to me. But still…

Well, I got three stitches and a prescription for pain medicine. We finally got home at nearly 11:00 at night. I wasn’t able to sleep because of the pain, and Hubs finally had to go get the prescription filled at about 1:00 a.m. Good husband.

It’s been a couple of days now and I’ve learned how to wash my hair without my thumb, how to button my pants without my thumb, and how to many other things without my thumb. It’s amazing how much we use our opposable thumb. How do monkeys live like this everyday?

It still hurts, but is more tolerable now. I still don’t think the alcohol was factor in my injury. After all, the carrots were cut straight. I think it was more about my stupidity and rush to finish and a very sharp knife. Either way, I’m not allowed to use a knife again… at least for a little while. Do they sell chainmail gloves at Williams & Sonoma. I need to get me one of those.

Better Half

I have the best husband in the entire world. And I’m not exaggerating.

I have known my husband for about 20 years (more than half my life, as I’m not forty yet!) We met when he was in 8^th grade and I was a senior in high school. Don’t freak out… we weren’t dating then! That’s just when I met him. And I must say that I wasn’t all that impressed at the time. Perhaps it was the age difference. Perhaps it was the fact that he was skinnier than a bean-pole. (aside, what the heck is a bean-pole, anyhow?) And there was the fact that he was so annoying. We started dating many years later, when he was in his mid-twenties and I was pushing thirty! Yes, I was a cradle-robber… not quite a cougar by today’s standards.

Anyhow, I had a rough day yesterday. It wasn’t really “bad,” just extremely, extremely busy. When I got home, it all sort of crashed. You know that feeling when you finally get to sit down, and you just can’t move again. Well, that was me yesterday evening. I didn’t want to do anything! Oh… but no time for that, it’s time to cook dinner. But wait… my dear, dear husband made dinner for the family. Even though it was just pizza, it was fantastic pizza because I didn’t have to make it! And then, he got me a glass of wine and absolutely insisted I just sit on the couch and relax. And if that wasn’t enough, he gave me a wonderful foot rub! Later, he tucked me into bed and kissed me goodnight. I slept so wonderfully. And I woke up today feeling refreshed, ready to start my day, and ever-so-grateful to have a husband like mine.

Now when I say “better half,” I mean it literally. He really is the better half of our relationship. I try to be thoughtful and proactive to his needs, like a good wife should be, right? But he is so much better at figuring out what I need, than I am at figuring out what he needs. It may be because I’m a better complainer and can bitch with the best of them, so my needs are a little more vocal. Maybe. But this man does laundry every week, vacuums, fixes things, builds things, and even encourages me to come up with projects for him to tackle. He is in the process of building a flagstone patio in my backyard. And he is making me a backyard garden so I can attempt to compete with one of my dear friends and her beautiful vegetables and herbs. He just rarely tells me no. What more could a woman want in a husband!?!?

So now, what would I change about him? Well, I would like him to be fatter (and I’m working on it). I do not possess a supermodel body and sometimes feel like Jack Sprat’s wife. I would rather be the smaller one. That’s about all I can think of right now. Heck, I even love his mom! So I had a rough start to my adult life and had to deal with a few tragedies (story for another time). I feel like I’m being paid back now for all my turmoil with a wonderful husband for me to love and to love me.

I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank Hubs for being mine. Although it’s obvious why he fell in love with me (I’m fantastic), but I am honored that he chose me to spend the rest of his life with him. He has given me two gorgeous little girls, and has been a wonderful step-dad to my first batch. I wish there was some sort of awards program for husbands. If there was, I would nominate mine. In the meantime, this will have to do:

I love you!

Zip-A-Dee-Do-Dah

Last week was my wedding anniversary. Hubs and I have been married for seven years! I surprised him with a trip to Cypress Valley Canopy Tours for a zip line trek through the trees. We had enjoyed a zip line tour exactly seven years ago during our honeymoon to Costa Rica. This was my way of revisiting that wonderful trip to Central America. Probably the two best things we did down there was the zip-line tour and white-water rafting. And since there is a full-blown drought of biblical proportions in Texas right now, there isn’t much white water to be found. So, zip-line it is! I had actually stumbled across this place several months ago. I was terribly surprised there even was such a place nearby in the heart of Texas. I didn’t expect much, but figured it would be fun anyhow. Well, surprise… it was fantastic! We had a great time. The family that owns Cypress Valley Canopy Tours has done a great job of creating a tour that is nearly as exciting as the one in Costa Rica. The only real things that were missing would probably be too expensive to replicate… rainforest and volcano. Although, they might want to consider building a mountain, digging down to the mantle of the earth for some lava, and adding some tropical landscaping for a more realistic effect in the future. But it wasn’t too disappointing considering it was Texas, over 100 degrees and drier than a… than a… it was very dry. The guides were wonderful. They made the trek that much more fun. We actually had such a great time, we decided to come back again four days later with Boog and Weasel. They were not very exited, being teenagers and all, but they came anyhow. The only thing that went wrong was Weasel initially insisted on wearing jeans instead of shorts… um, no way, Son, get your shorts on. It's like 105 outside now. Once we were there, we had a fantastic time. Weasel even seemed to enjoy himself, which is like watching a polar bear enjoy a suntan... unnatural. He would catch himself having a good time and pull himself back to teen-mode. The guides were even more fun this time. We did an egg toss while balancing on a long bridge... Brian tossed to me and I caught it, I tossed to Boog and she caught it, and then she threw it into the trees, Weasel didn't have a chance... thanks, Boog. I highly recommend anyone nearby the time to visit this place. (ARGH...I have a video to post, but I'm having technical difficulty. I've posted it, but I have no idea if it will work for you

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There was a Crooked Man, Who Wore a Crooked Smile

Crooked no more… Weasel got his braces off! He has been wearing them since 2005… that’s four years. I still can’t believe it took so long. He has been wearing them for approximately 25% of his entire life. His little sisters didn’t even know him without braces.

Here is what he looked like before braces. He was 12 years old. I know he is so glad I’m posting this picture. But really, who is reading my blog anyhoo?

Then poof… all of a sudden he looks so grown up. Ain’t he gorgeous?

I’m not even used to seeing him smile, being a teenage boy and all. So this picture is weird for me all by itself.

Pumpkin, his 4-year-old sister, thought he had something on his teeth. She didn’t realize that those things even came off his teeth. And I just can’t stop asking him to smile. Perhaps now it will become a little more second-nature, and he can stop being such a glum teenage boy. I doubt it. I think I have a few more years of agony.

Anyhow, I am very proud of his smile. And let me state that orthodontics is worth every single penny. I will make sure that my four kids have beautiful smiles. Obviously, their mom didn’t give them the straight-teeth-gene.

Two down… two to go!