Wouldn’t You Like to be a Lemming, Too?

So I pride myself in not being a lemming. I don’t follow the flock and purchase an I-phone. I didn’t vote for Obama. I don’t buy the same car as everyone else. And I don’t like to read what everyone else is reading, just because it is reportedly “so good” and blah, blah, blah.

For instance, the whole Twilight saga thing has been out for a while. I just didn’t get it. Teenaged vampires? Big whoop. Who cares? I didn’t read the books; I didn’t see the movies; I didn’t even know the names of these goofs.

Then, my sister who hardly reads was reading the book. She said it was sooo good and I just had to read ‘em. I figured, if it got her (who is barely literate) to read a novel, there must be something to it. I had nothing else to read at the time, I figured I could give it a shot.

Well, let me tell you… I read the first novel, Twilight, and was completely hooked. I quickly went through the rest of the series and have been obsessed by Bella and Edward ever since. I could hardly see a Volvo without wondering if Edward was driving. I constantly compared Hubs to Edward and wondered why I married him instead of waiting for my true-love-vampire (just kidding, Darling). The sexual tension in these books was just so… so… ugh… so tense.

I saw the movies and they were okay. Just like every movie, never as good as the book. But I’ll be in line when Breaking Dawn comes out in theaters. Although, I hope I can find one that is adults-only so I don’t have to listen to all the ‘tweens swooning loudly over a shirtless Jacob or mesmerizing Edward. At least us adults have the level of maturity to swoon silently in our heads… I mean, really, have you seen those guys? Hubba-hubba.

Oh, and I’m totally Team Edward. I actually wonder why there even IS a Team Jacob. Although, since I’m fully middle-aged, perhaps I should be Team Charlie, since being infatuated with a teenager (even if he’s an immortal vampire that’s older than my grandmother) is a little creepy.

So, maybe the moral to this lesson is that Lemmings don’t always get it wrong.

You need Kindling to Start a Fire

I’ve been laxed in posting on my blog again.  No apologies this time.  Just a simple “deal-with-it-I-have-a-suck-life-sometimes-and-nothing-to-share” comment… and we’ll move on.  Okay?

Anyhoo…

I love to read.  I’m probably not as avid as some people.  I won’t read just any old thing.  I have my favorite authors and I read everything they feel like putting on paper.  I had run through all of my regular authors and was ready to start someone new.

I was about to start the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series by getting it at Half-Priced Books.  However, a couple of my coworkers had a surprise for me!  They ordered me a Kindle reader (complete with frog-green case), which is probably one of the nicest things someone has done for me in a long time.  No reason for the gift, just because.  I felt so guilty because it seemed like I didn’t deserve it, but got over it because I was so excited! 

I quickly proceeded to download the book that I had intended to buy anyhow and have been LOVING my Kindle.  It’s definitely different than a regular book and takes a little getting used to.  But I have grown accustomed to it quickly and can’t imagine my life without it.  It sucks a little since I can’t share my books with my friends once I finish with them.  But heck, that only affects my friends, not me… so I’ll be fine.  :) 

I would just like to say thanks to my coworkers for such an awesome gift and for thinking of me.  With Hubs out of work, there was no way I would have been able to spend money on spoiling myself.  It makes it that much more appreciated when someone took their own time (and money) to be so generous. 

Oh… and by the way, the Dragon Tattoo book is fantastic.  I would let you read it when I’m done, but I won’t be able to share it since it’s on my way-cool Kindle!

A Perspective on Dying

I haven’t posted in a while, but I couldn’t let this one pass…

An Uncle passed away this past week. Being good Catholics, we went to the rosary and took Pumpkin and Cookie. They hadn’t been to a funeral since they were much smaller, so we talked a lot about how to behave just like they were in church. We emphasized the fact that Uncle had died and many people would be sad. They could not bounce around like monkeys and should act like proper young ladies.

They were very well-behaved during the evening service. Then Cookie asked me, “What did he die from?” This was such a mature question, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I looked at her trying to figure out to explain cancer to a 3-year-old. Apparently, my confused expression just made Cookie rephrase her question. She looked up and said, “Like was it dinosaurs… or a lion… or monsters… ?”

It was so hard to keep from laughing.

It’s Official

The current economy situation has finally hit us… right between the eyes! Hubs lost his job this week. He worked hard in Hell for about six years and then *wham*… goodbye.

Now, normally this would be a horrible thing. However, the job itself has become horrible, so this is really a blessing in disguise. Even though the circumstances could have been better, and it is definitely a little scary worrying about the money, and he doesn’t deserve it… all in all, I’m still happy he doesn’t have to work for that place anymore.

As I’ve stated before, I’m a firm believer in things changing. Bad times don’t stay bad forever (and neither do good times, for that matter). We don’t necessarily deserve these bad times, 0062ut I know beyond any doubt they won’t last forever. Soon enough he’ll have another job… a better job… and we’ll look back on these times and laugh.

So, Hubs, just know that I love you and that I’m proud of you despite all this crap.

But… since you are home, would you mind if I left you a honey-do list each morning?

Redemption Necessary?

Life is full of regret, right? Isn’t that what they say? Well, I now I know it’s true (as if I didn’t before).

This past Friday was our Summer Party at work. It was a pool party at my boss’ house. Most of my coworkers are twenty-somethings, single, no children, blah blah blah. They are having the time of their lives no matter what the circumstances. I, however, am full of responsibility and generally regarded as the “mom” around the office. I’m supposed to be the serious one, not the fancy free one.

All of that changed at that party. I have six words that will define the day… sweet tea vodka and cranberry juice. If you haven’t already tried the concoction, consider yourself warned. I discovered it that day and am now full of regret. The drink was wonderful, but the consequences not so much. I won’t go into all the gory details. Suffice to say I had too much.

So I’m sitting at my desk this morning wondering who will give me a hard time for my behavior last Friday, most of which I probably won’t recall. Do I laugh it off? Do I apologize? Do I ignore it? How could I have been so stupid? I am old enough to know better!

Oh, and to put the evening in true context… my husband and Weasel had to come pick me up from the party to get me home. Although that particular act was responsible, I wasn’t exactly the role model I would choose to be.

Or maybe I’m just a cool “mom” at the office… right?

Boog, R.N.

Boog is currently on the path to becoming a nurse. She is still doing her pre-req’s at school, so she’s not fully immersed in the nursing program. However, she recently started a job that is more closely related to nursing than being a hostess at a restaurant (her previous job). She has obtained a job at an assisted-living facility as a care assistant. Now she is doing some things that I could never do… and I’m in complete awe of my Boog.

Practically all Boog’s life, I was there to listen and give advice. I knew about her friends, boyfriends, school, etc. And, of course, being the overbearing mom I am, I always had an opinion or advice to share. Now, I can only sit back and listen to the stories about her new job. I have no advice to give because she is doing things I have never done – and probably could never do!

I cannot relate to having to bathe an elderly person. I haven’t bathed anyone over the age of about six. I cannot relate to changing the diapers of an adult. I’m truly not sure I would even be able to do it if I had to. And she is not only fully capable of doing these things and caring for these people, she actually seems to enjoy it.

I’m so, so proud of my Boog… and we are only in the early stages of her grown-up life – which makes this just that much more exciting. I think she is going to continue to do great at this job. I know if I were one of those residents, I would smile just a little bit more after seeing Boog.

And before you know it, she’ll be “Boog, R.N. “

Engine-uity – Update #2

Well… I hadn’t actually been giving updates to the engine swap in Weasel’s Miata. It was just too depressing. We ran into one problem after another. We were constantly problem-solving and undoing and redoing things. It has been quite a learning experience. But… THE CAR FINALLY STARTED! Weasel has a little fine tuning to do, but he should be good to go by this afternoon!

I won’t go into all the specifics as I’m sure you don’t really care. Suffice to say I now know all about: timing belts, cam gears, crank shaft sensors, ignition coils, drive shafts and much, much more. I even know how to use a torque wrench and a feeler gauge (which is not as sexy as it sounds).

The only thing that was disappointing when all was said and done was Weasel's reaction. He didn’t seem very excited. His excited face and his frustrated face and his sleeping face and his angry face and his happy face are all the identical. He is the most stoic person I know. I nearly cried when the car started, and all he could say was, “cool.” Where was the excitement and elation? Where was the giddiness that only comes with slaying that dragon? Wait a minute… I take that back. When confronted about it, Weasel said he would be excited when he was driving away from the house. I guess that’s good enough, even though I won’t have the pleasure of witnessing it.

I’m proud of you, Weasel, for sticking it out and getting it done!

And if I never have to clean black gunk from under my fingernails again, I’ll be just fine with that!

The Tax Man

Pumpkin lost her second tooth this weekend. Luckily, the Tooth Fairy stopped by and traded her tooth for a crisp one dollar bill. She was quite excited about her new found money. When Hubs asked what she planned to do with it, she quickly responded she was going to take it to IRS.

WHAT?!?!

Hubs and I were shocked by her answer. It took a couple of minutes before we were able to get her to clarify that she was taking her money to Toys R Us, not IRS. Big difference!

Now that makes more sense!

What the… ?!?!?

I turned the dreaded 40 last week. And basically it was sort of a suck-day. It wasn’t so much about getting older, but more about feeling inconsequential. My day was just a typical Thursday, like any other day. We didn’t celebrate my birthday at work like we do for everyone else. And that evening, I just went to dinner with the family. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like everyone forgot. It just didn’t feel like the momentous birthday I had anticipated.

Well, all of that changed on Saturday. I spent the day working at the office, then drove Boog around trying to find an apartment for her return to Austin. She was texting “Sam” all day and planned to go out with him that evening. I knew Hubs had something planned, but honestly thought it would be a normal date-night-dinner-and-a-movie.

Boog and I arrived back at home and walked into the house… and a bunch of my friends and family shouted “SURPRISE!” I was literally stunned. I even shed a tear or two.

Apparently, my dear Hubs had planned a party for me all along. It was an amazing surprise! Boog wasn’t texting “Sam,” she was texting Hubs about our ETA. She is quite the little liar… I’m so proud. Apparently Hubs’ surprise went off without a hitch. I had no idea and was truly in the dark.

It was a lot of fun! It feels so good to realize that I’m NOT inconsequential… to my family or my friends. Seems I really do matter! Nice.

I’m Old Today

Happy birthday to ME!

I’m forty today, which seems pretty old when you weren’t forty before.

I suppose it’s time for me to turn in my Blackberry for a Jitterbug phone. And perhaps I’ll need to pick up a walker with the little tennis balls on the feet. I even need to start thinking about which home I want to spend my last days in.

Ugh… better get moving… time is running out.

Caffeination Appreciation

Hubs and I have our regular little routine in the morning. He wakes the girls up while I’m in the shower. I get them ready while he’s in the shower. I fix the girls’ hair while he feeds the animals. And then he takes the girls to daycare, while I finish getting ready.

When I’m all ready to go, I head to the kitchen to find this on the counter:

Every morning, my dear Hubs makes me two cups of coffee to-go. It’s made just as I like it. No flavored coffee. No flavored creamer. It’s a great start to my day, every single day.

Now you must understand… he doesn’t do this because he loves me so much; he doesn’t do this because he makes the best coffee in the world; he doesn’t do to this to make sure I make it work on time. He does this to avoid me spending money at Starbucks. Well, that AND the fact that I’m probably much easier to deal with after my cup o’ Joe. A girl needs her caffeine in the morning… no matter how much it costs.

I just wanted to take the time to say thank you to Hubs. Thanks for the coffee, and thanks for saving us money. Lord knows I don’t have the strength to avoid giving our money to Starbucks.

Children of Earth

We spent the past weekend in the country. Gamma has several acres about a hour outside of Austin. We worked hard ran electricity and water to a new building that Gamma recently had built. So now, we have water!

The girls stripped down to their bobbies (Boog-speech for panties) and played in the newly piped in water. Pretty soon, they were playing in the mud. Who needs a pool?!?!

It was so funny watching them get dirty. They seemed to look up time to time to make sure they weren’t going to get in trouble. And when Mommy gave them the green light, they went crazy in the mud! They had a great time, until they had to get cleaned up. And I just had to share the picture.

Me, Scrabble and the I-Phone

For never was a tale of more groan… than this of me, Scrabble and the I-Phone

I love Scrabble. And I always thought it loved me back. But I now realize that it has been cheating on me, and seems to have fallen in love with the I-Phone – leaving me alone and despaired.

I do not have an I-Phone, I have a Blackberry. It seems so many people on this planet have followed the I-Phone phenomenon. And all of those people can play Scrabble with each other every hour of every day. It’s just not fair.

But then I realize being able to access the wonderful game of Scrabble at all times can also lead to problems. Scrabble has some serious personality flaws. It can be obsessive and never lets you put it down. It quickly tells you that you are wrong if you make a simple spelling error. And it always keeps score and tells you when someone else is better. Ugh. Who needs that?!?

I guess maybe it’s better this way. Or at least I’m going to keep telling myself that, while I remain jealous and excluded.

Woe is me.

Engine-uity – Update #1

Well, the engine is nearly out of the car. There are just a handful of connections still to separate it from the car. Seems the only trouble they have really had so far is loosening bolts that have been secure for over 13 years. Some bolts don’t cooperate like they should. But Weasel and Grapo worked very hard and made some significant progress.

The engine hoist arrives today, the new engine arrives tomorrow… hopefully everything will be done by this weekend. It can’t come soon enough for me. I want to park in the garage again!

Because it’s really all about me.

Engine-uity

Weasel’s latest car, a 1997 Mazda Miata – his third car this year, by the way – now has engine trouble. We got it for cheap, so I can’t complaint too much.

He has been working with Hubs and Grapo and has changed the water pump and timing belt, installed a new radiator, etc. Turns out, the thing now needs a new engine, which could cost upwards of $3,000! Ugh!

Well, Weasel surprised me and actually wanted the challenge of installing the engine himself. Now you have to understand a little about Weasel. He doesn’t ask for much. He doesn’t do much. He pretty much just tries to disappear under the radar, and is generally successful at it. So for him to even ask for this… well, it was HUGE!

How could I not give him the chance? He is a very smart, mechanically-minded guy. I made sure he had plenty of resources to reference during this entire task. And all I could think of was the pure sense of accomplishment he would feel if that new engine started when he turned the key. I can’t even think about if it doesn’t start!

So I bought a replacement engine for $800. Already, this path is saving me money! Weasel is going to do this installation primarily on his own, with Hubs and Grapo available if he gets stuck.

Cross your fingers that he has the diligence and perseverance to complete this daunting task. Like Hubs said, it’s like throwing him in the deep end of the pool after he learned how to put his flippers on. But if he is successful, it would surely increase his confidence exponentially!

I know you can do it, Weasel. I mean, really? How hard could it be?

Famous last words, eh? I’ll keep you posted!

The Biggest Loser

Anyone watch The Biggest Loser?  Well, I’m hooked.  I have watched it year after year.  Some of these stories are so inspiring.  And the weight these people lose is remarkable.   I don’t think I’m necessarily in the same game as these people.  I figure I only need to lose about fifty pounds.  Yes, that’s all.  One large Costco-sized bag of dog food. 

However, I still imagine myself on there losing dozens of pounds each week.  I can see myself running miles on those treadmills and lifting heavy weights.  I can see myself transforming quickly from overweight-huffing-up-the-stairs person to fit-and-can-run-a-marathon goddess.  Of course, this is all in my mind.   The reality of my participation consists of sitting comfortably on the couch watching them sweat.

I think I eat right and have actually lost some weight just by watching what I eat.  I don’t really keep track of my calories, but I do tend to read labels from time to time.  And it’s appalling how many calories are in stuff.  If you don’t already read the labels, just start.  You’ll be shocked!

I still hope that one day I’ll get off my butt and actually lose the weight and become this fit, athletic person.   So it seems I have two options:  gain a bunch more weight, try out for The Biggest Loser, hope I get selected to participate, lose all of the weight, all while not being booted off the show… OR… I could just do it on my own.

Life is hard enough without trying to make it more difficult.  I guess I should do it the easy way.

Reinspired

Lately, I haven’t felt much like blogging.  (I hope somebody noticed).  It’s so difficult to think of something cute or amusing to write about when you feel like you life is in the crapper.  Money is tight, kids are driving me crazy (some more than others) and work is hectic.  The only thing funny in my life right now is the fact that I’m not in a straight-jacket. 

Last night, however, I had a revelation.  I went to a blogger gathering in Austin to visit a notable blogger, Bossy, who is touring the U.S.  I wasn’t terribly familiar with her blog – who has time to read blogs – but went with a friend who actually follows Bossy.  I was a little reluctant at first, but I am SOOO glad I went.

After a particularly hard day, I didn’t care so much about the gathering as I cared about the presence of alcohol and my dear friend.  That was what I really needed.  But it turns out I met some of the most inspiring women in Austin.  All of them were in various stages of blogging.  We talked about that for a little bit and I learned a lot.

However, the best part of the night was just all of the BS’ing and laughing with these ladies I had never met before.  It was remarkable how comfortable I was with these total strangers.  It was the most fun I have had in a long time. 

It makes me realize how therapeutic socializing can be.  And it made me want to get back in the saddle on this blog.  I also came to the realization that it’s not so much about people reading what I put out there, it’s more about just putting it out there. 

So, to all of you ladies that I met last night (especially Jami)… thank you.  It feels good to actually be back with the living.  I hope you missed me.

Weasel Day

I realized that I completely forgot to wish my Weasel a happy birthday this past week. It doesn’t matter much. He doesn’t read my blog. He doesn’t care about such things. But, I wanted to put it out there anyhow.

He has been my most difficult child (so far). I think it’s more about him being a boy than anything else. I was raised with only a sister, so this boy thing is just a bit foreign to me. He’s my only boy, which makes him a little special. But it’s also a little new to me. And I’m learning as I go.

I hate the moodiness… I hate the secretiveness… I hate the nonchalant attitude about everything… it’s just annoying. I want him to tell me everything, and he just doesn’t. And apparently, this is completely normal for teenage boys. Ugh.

So, happy birthday, Weasel. Even though I know you aren’t reading this!

Freaks of Nature

Yesterday there was a remarkable event in Austin… snow. We don’t usually see much snow around here, perhaps just a flurry or two from time to time. There isn’t typically much accumulation on the ground, particularly this late into winter.

Here are  my little Cookie and Pumpkin making their very first snowman (pathetic, I know). Although it is a little on the small side, it was enough for them! The only real problem we noted was their lack of gloves… we never had a reason to buy them any before. Both of them were freezing by the time we went inside, but they still had to be coerced into the house. They probably could have walked in it, ate it, threw it and looked at it until their fingers fell off.

It was especially weird because we were outside just three days ago in short sleeves enjoying the 60+ degree weather. Then two days later, it’s snowing?!?! And then the very next day, most of the snow has melted and the sun is shining! Weird…

Winter Olympics

I’ve been watching the Winter Olympics off and on over the past several days. Living in Texas doesn’t allow much for winter sports, so I’ve never really been too interested. The only winter sport around here is watching the news the morning of an ice storm to see if school is out and… nope, that’s about it.

However this year, I’ve learned more about speed racing and downhill skiing than I probably need to know. It has actually been pretty amazing watching what these people can do. And then you realize the difference between first and second place is often quite small, perhaps a few inches or a fraction of a second.

I’ve mostly enjoyed the speed racing. Watching these people from around the world go around this little bitty circle as fast as they can is amazing. It doesn’t look that hard from my perspective on the couch in my living room, but I’m sure it’s much harder than it looks. I like when the commentators explain the difference in the skates or the history of the sport or give us glimpses into the passions of the various countries competing.

Then, last night we watched a little of the snowboarding half-pipe something or other. I couldn’t get past the fact that these guys were wearing plaid shirts and distressed jeans. It was apparently the official uniform for the American team.  I was shocked.

I can understand that this may be the normal attire for these living-on-the-edge-snowboarders, but come on. Shouldn’t their gear be made by Nike? They looked like they just walked in off the street. They looked like they overslept and didn’t have time to get ready. They looked like they were about to commit a drive-by shooting!

Their uniform surprisingly didn’t sway the judges. They did some pretty amazing stunts and won the gold medal. So, who am I to judge? Especially when you take into consideration the fact that I’ve never actually seen a snowboard in real life, much less an Olympic snowboarding event.

I guess this isn’t Project Runway.

Same Song, Different Verse

Last week, I was eating dinner with a couple of girlfriends. Immediately afterwards, I see that I have 15 missed calls on my phone from Weasel and Hubs. I called Hubs, who told me Weasel was in another car accident… not his fault… and he is okay.

I freak out a little, but not too much. I feel like such a bad mom because I didn’t hear my phone ringing during dinner. I feel like such a bad wife because Hubs had to load up the girls to go to the accident. Ugh. I drive out to the accident to relieve Hubs and let him take Cookie and Pumpkin home to bed.

As I’m driving up, there are flashing lights from a police car and from the tow truck. I don’t see Hubs at first, just Weasel’s car in a ditch. OH EMM GEE. Now I freak out a lot. I finally find Weasel, who I cannot hug hard enough. He is okay, but obviously freezing from the cold rain and a little emotional from the scare. His only apparent injury is an airbag burn on his arm. (Thank God for airbags!)

Apparently, he was travelling down the road when a large work truck pulled out in front of him. He swerved to miss it, but was unable to avoid the collision! It was a little more significant than his last accident. The airbags went off and he was a little shook up. There was even a moment where he thought the car was on fire due to the smoky air after the airbags deployed. Scary!

Probably the most horrifying thing for me as a mom is for my kids to be scared and I’m not there to protect them. I know that I cannot be there every moment of every day. I know that I cannot protect them from every evil, but I still want to.

Funny thing was, I actually got mad at his Weasel’s dad who has been dead for over 17 years. How could he let this happen? He is supposed to help me protect Weasel! Weasel doesn’t deserve all of this heartache! Then I realize that perhaps his dad DID protect him. Perhaps this accident could have been much worse. Perhaps this accident (and the last one) will make Weasel a better driver, which may save his life in the future.

Bottom line is, Weasel is okay.

Oh, and did I mention he only had this car for TWO DAYS? Hopefully there won’t be monthly posts about Weasel’s car accidents. Two totaled cars in two months is enough for anyone! 

Let’s see what happens in March!

Good Luck With That

I recently had a dear friend teach me the most important words a mother of a teenager could learn: “good luck with that.” I’m finding that little phrase to be a most powerful set of words. Whenever I don’t agree with what my oldest batch is doing, the best response is probably, “good luck with that.”

For example, I think Weasel is a genius. He has always been very smart, although you could not tell it by his grades in school. He is currently a junior in high school, and I actually find myself worrying that he won’t graduate next year. I keep getting notifications from school that he is failing this, or that he’s not turning in that project, or that he hasn’t completed his homework. My first instinct is to get enraged, beat the crap out of him, ground him from his car and anything else he values. Then… that little phrase… “good luck with that.”

All of a sudden, I’m off the hook. I realize that my nearly grown son is making these choices. And the only way he’ll ever learn whether he is making the right choice or the wrong choice would be to live with the consequences. If he makes bad decisions, he’ll have to live it… and vice versa if he makes good decisions.

Then the most amazing thing happens… They are liberated from being over-mothered (which I’ve been known to do from time to time). They are the ones that always want to be treated like adults. Well, welcome to adulthood. And at the same time, I’m liberated from feeling so responsible for the failures of my children. I finally realize that if they fail, it actually doesn’t reflect on me directly at all. I’m still a good mom, even if my kids aren’t perfect!

So thank you, Dawn, for helping me become a better mom to my teenagers. Now, if I could only get my little batch to clean their playroom. Well, one day at a time…

Happy Birthday, Boog!

All of my kids’ birthdays are approximately two months apart from one another. So, it’s time for another happy birthday to one of my little offspring. Today, it’s my Boog.

She is 19 today! Ugh… that affirms my I’m-getting-so-old feeling. How can I be young AND have a 19-year-old child?

She has grown up so much over the past 19 years. I can still remember her being born… at 9 pounds, 11 ounces! Ouch. I still remember that pain, too! While the doctor was telling me to push, I was yelling at the doctor to pull!

She was not a very pretty newborn, I suppose because she was squished inside me for too long. I don’t think she could open her eyes for three days. But she grew into such a cute little girl, and now a gorgeous young woman.

She has put more than a few gray hairs on my head throughout the years. But overall, she has been a blessing. And I couldn’t be more proud of who she has become, and am so excited about what lies before her.

Happy birthday, Boog!

Not a Hearing Aid

I got a Ferrari a couple of days ago. Well, it wasn’t really a Ferrari, but it was sort of a mid-life crisis thing. I got the top of my ear pierced.

This piercing obviously wasn’t a necessary thing, or even a truly cosmetic thing. Heck, you can hardly see it as my hair typically hangs down over my ears. I suppose I just needed to do something to feel a little younger, to feel a little more alive, and to feel little like I have control over something. So, perhaps it was stupid and perhaps it was painful… but it actually felt good doing it.

When I turned thirty, it really didn’t feel like that big of a deal. I didn’t feel like I was going over any imaginary hill. In fact, I suppose turning thirty made me feel like an official adult. I had my life under control. I didn’t feel old. But turning forty is an entirely different story. I very clearly feel like I’m approaching the top of this particular hill. I feel that inevitability of growing old.

So perhaps my little piercing wasn’t the greatest idea, but I’m very glad that I did it. And now I’m going to start tackling my wardrobe and attempt to stop wearing “mom clothes” and get into something a little more edgy. Who knows, perhaps I’ll have a tattoo before too long!

Oh… and I officially turn forty in May of this year. I am planning to parachute out of an airplane… in my edgy clothes with my new earring and possible tattoo. I want to be the coolest old lady on the block.

“Survey Says…”

Hubs races dirt-bikes. Although he is not the most competitive in the sport, he has a great time with the guys that ride! He always has so much fun tackling a challenging course. We usually mix it up with a little camping, camp fires and just hanging out outdoors. It’s actually lots of fun.

This weekend, however, there was an entirely different sort of dirt-bike race. One guy’s 13-year-old kid (we’ll call him Hatfield) and another guy’s 13-year-old kid (we’ll call him McCoy) race in the same level. Apparently, Hatfield usually does better, but McCoy was able to beat him this particular day. Hatfield’s dad reportedly didn’t think much about his son losing to this McCoy kid and was making snide comments. McCoy’s dad had enough and it started a shouting match!

McCoy’s dad was yelling at the top of his lungs at Hatfield’s dad around the camp fire, dropping F-bombs left and right. There were about 8 kids nearby, as well as other adults just enjoying the outdoor evening after a race. I’m glad Cookie and Pumpkin came into the trailer to pee so they didn’t have to hear it. And they weren’t going back outside! We just waited inside our trailer for the heat to die down. And I figured we were lucky it didn’t come to fisticuffs (I love that word, never get to use it!).

I felt so sorry for their wives and little Hatfield and McCoy, as I’m sure they were so embarrassed. And the worst thing is, still today they probably both think they were right! Neither of those men probably sees that they were BOTH wrong!

Idiots.

I bet Richard Dawson never hosted this kind of Family Feud!

Mommy’s Little Boy No More.

The Weasel has seemingly lost his mind… but that’s okay with me.

My 16-year-old son has decided to sell the TV in his room (which he bought with his own money) and his X-box (which he bought with his own money) so that he can buy a new laptop or netbook or notebook or something or other.

This seems like a reasonable thing to do. But, we rarely saw Weasel downstairs for about the last two years as he entered his teenage funk stage. He was always in his room playing his X-box or watching his TV. I tried very hard to leave him alone since I knew he was a teenage boy and I knew that he seemed to relish in being miserable and lonely… and I knew (or hoped) it was temporary. However, I would make him come down for dinner or to do his chores or to talk about his day, but generally I left him alone.

Now all of a sudden… CHANGE.

He has started smiling more, started interacting with all of us more, started being a part of the family again. He even wants to go on our family outings that I sometimes gave him pass so that we all wouldn’t have to suffer through his sighs and rolling eyes. He’s even dressing in something other than a black t-shirt! He’s back!

And to boot, he thinks he is spending too much time playing X-box and watching TV, so he decided to sell them. Um… are you feeling okay? I checked him for fever and made sure his eyes weren’t dilated. He seems okay.

So, now I’m so happy to have my son coming back to us. I missed him so much. Maybe he’ll go back to sleeping with his Blue-Corner-Blanket (more on that another time). Or maybe I can just sit back and watch my beloved son as he turns into a man.

I suppose now I have to call him Mr. Weasel? Nah… not until he is taller than me. Oh wait… he is taller. Okay, not until he starts wearing a suit to work. And first he has to get a job!

Love you, Weasel! 

The Corners of My Mind

The existence of forgetting has never been proved:  We only know that some things don't come to mind when we want them.  - Friedrich Nietzsche

My memory sucks. There is no other way to put it… it sucks. If I try to remember something and I look away for two seconds, the thought is gone. It has just vanished. At times, I may have a vague recollection that I may have forgotten something. But in general, I don’t even have that. So if there is no one there to remind me, it may be forgotten forever.

Lately, it seems worse. I’m not sure if it’s because I had the recent surgery and the anesthesia did something to my brain; or because of all the stress from the recent wrecks and just life in general; or because of the weather and my allergies; or even because I just don’t care. Whatever it is, it’s frustrating.

I think the most fearful thing is the fact that my grandfather had dementia and I think that I might be in the early stages. I consulted with Dr. Worldwideweb and realize that I don’t really meet the criteria for the early stages of dementia. However, I do think I might be in the early stages of the early stages.

Whatever the reason, I know that I need to work on my memory. I am going to better incorporate post-it notes and writing notes on my hand. I am going to email myself little reminders. I’m going to focus more. So if anyone has any thoughts on improving memory, please share.

Oh, and thank you God for the whole attached head thing. That was a good one.

Unlucky Day

So, Friday the 13^th isn’t the only day to be wary on the calendar. Apparently, Wednesday the 13^th can be just as treacherous.

On Wednesday the 13^th of January, I got a call from Weasel. I anticipated him asking if he could go to so-and-so’s house, but instead I hear “I hit a car.” Of course, I ask if everyone is okay (especially my baby boy) and want to know where they are. I am not too far, so I head straight over there.

And this is what I find:

 

Weasel came over a hill and this lady was waiting to turn left and was stopped in the lane. He wasn’t able to stop in time and slid into her car. It was drizzling and the roads were a little slick. He was fortunate enough to hit someone who was nice to him. She could have been yelling and screaming at him, but instead was understanding and compassionate.

Well, his car is no longer drivable and is presumably totaled. We watched it get towed away and headed home.

I had to hurry and feed the girls, because we had to leave for gymnastics class in about 30 minutes. On the way there while waiting at a stoplight, I hear the car behind me start to slide on those slick roads… right into me!

So now my car has been hit! This poor girl that hit me was pretty shook up, and her car looked a lot like Weasel’s just a little while earlier. I tried to be as compassionate as the person that hit my son. These things just happen.

Best part about all of this… now Weasel has to find a job to pay for his deductible! AND I am demanding better grades in school as a way to make it up to us! Of course, I won’t hold my breath.

Prepare yourself… the next Wednesday the 13^th is in October 2010.

Enable Cookie

Today is Cookie’s birthday! My littlest baby is now 3-years-old!

And she seems to know that she is getting bigger. If you try to tell her that she is too little to do something, she responds that she is big! And she knows this because she can hop like a bunny. Apparently, actual little kids cannot hop like a bunny. She can even demonstrate her amazing hopping abilities, if you doubt her.

Of course, her growing up does not alleviate any fussing or arguing with her sister. Pumpkin and Cookie can still fight about who gets to open the door, or who gets to carry the bag, or who gets to get their hair done first. Everything can still be a race, and Pumpkin always beats Cookie… but she does have two years of development to her advantage.

I would like to say that I know exactly what it was like being the baby sister. My older sister was always the prettier one, always the more social one, always the one that won the races, always had more friends, etc. But I came back with a vengeance.

So you’d better watch out, Pumpkin… it’s just a matter of time before she teaches you a lesson or two. And you might want to be a little nicer and maybe let her win once in a while. We don’t call her Cookie for nothing… she is a tough little cookie. She’ll beat the crap outta you in a few years, if she thinks you deserve it.

Happy Birthday, Cookie!

Enlarged Heart

We did not plan on having Boog; she was a surprise. And even though I was devastated at the time to find out that I was pregnant when I was 20-years-old, I soon came to find out it was the best mistake I ever made.

I remember how much I loved that little girl when she was just a wee baby. I always felt like I had the great ability to love more than normal people, and this was true of my first child most of all. Boog was spoiled by her grandparents, her daddy and her mommy. She was always so cute and so happy. You couldn’t help but smile whenever you were around her. It was like her aura was happy.

A little while later, we intended to get pregnant with Weasel so that the two kids would be two years apart. Before he was born, I found myself feeling so sorry for that little baby inside me. How could I possibly love it at all? I already loved Boog with all my heart, and there couldn’t possibly be much more love in me to share with this new baby.

Well, it turns out I was wrong. I didn’t need to share my heart at all. It seems that as soon as Weasel was born, my heart doubled in size… sort of like the Grinch, except mine started out large. And he was a boy! It is so true what they say about Mommy’s and their little boys. He is just a little more special in an entirely different way, just because he is my boy. But God knew to only give me one boy. They are not as much fun as the girls. He won’t let me paint his nails and he hates to shop. That’s no fun.

My heart has since quadrupled in size with the birth of Pumpkin and Cookie. And being in my mid-thirties when I had them (versus my young-twenties with Boog and Weasel) makes everything different. I appreciate things in them that I barely noticed with my first batch.

I feel like my heart is four times the size of a normal heart. I have so much love in me for all of my kids. It’s sort of amazing when you think about it. I hope that at least one of my offspring is reading this. Just know that you are loved terribly. And even though I know I am not the perfect mom, probably not even close, you could not possibly wish for a mom that loves you more. It just can’t be done.

Bun in the Oven or Bum in the Oven

Some of you may remember my bitch-post about how my mother would not retire. Well, good news… she is retiring September 1. (Although, I’ll believe it when I see it)

I realized that these nine months until she retires will be like the nine months of a first pregnancy, except she will be the baby that comes home.

1^st month:

PREGNANT: Realizing your life is getting ready to significantly change

RETIREMENT: Realizing your life is getting ready to significantly change

2^nd month and 3^rd month:

PREGNANT: Mood swings with the changes of hormones from the baby

RETIREMENT: Mood swings with the changes of hormones from coincidental menopause

4^th month:

PREGNANT: You start to feel it move more and more, reminding you this is really happening

RETIREMENT: You start to feel removed more and more, reminding you this is really happening

5^th month:

PREGNANT: The pressure on your bladder gives you the urge to go more often

RETIREMENT: The pressure on your life gives you the urge to go on vacation more often

6^th and 7^th month:

PREGNANT: The weight makes it hard to deal with pain in your neck and back

RETIREMENT: The wait makes it hard to deal with your pain-in-the-neck boss on your back

8^th month:

PREGNANT: Time to party with baby showers

RETIREMENT: Time to party with happy hours

9^th month:

PREGNANT: Counting the days because you are so ready for it be over

RETIREMENT: Counting the days because you are so ready for it be over

FINALLY:

PREGNANT: For the first time in your life, you have a baby to care for and dedicate the rest of your life to.

RETIREMENT: For the first time in your life, you have yourself to care for and dedicate the rest of your life to.

 

It’s about time, Mom.  I hope you don’t have a miscarriage!

Absence Makes the Heart Less Worrisome

I figured out a very important thing about kids living outside the nest. When they aren’t nearby, you don’t worry about them as much. This is funny to me, as I would have thought it would be the complete opposite.

I learned this important lesson as Boog is home for the holidays. She had a bad day and wasn’t in the best of moods. She left rather abruptly one evening and then didn’t come home that night. And then she wasn’t answering her phone or responding to text messages the next morning. This went on until early afternoon.

She’s hurt, or kidnapped, or worse… I just know it!

Part of me was 100% sure that nothing was wrong, while simultaneously another part of me was 100% sure that something was seriously wrong. I didn’t know which part to listen to, so I decided to calmly panic. It was officially time to start worrying.

So, I called the non-emergency number to find out how I can see if she was involved in an accident or something. I felt like a crazy mom. They confirmed she was not in jail, and her car was not involved in any accidents or citations. I called a couple of hospitals, just to check. You would think that not finding her would be good news, but I found myself almost hoping that she had been hurt. At least I would know where she is.

Finally, she called me back. She was safe, just being careless… or more accurately, she was being carefree. And I was being too protective.

I realized that if she was back at college, she would probably be missing for several days before I even noticed, much less worried. I’m trying to let my oldest daughter grow up. I’m trying to treat her like an adult. But, in my heart, she will always be my baby girl, no matter how old she gets.

And really? None of this would have happened if she would have just answered her phone! So is it really my fault?