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

)

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!

Land of the Lost

Yesterday, I stumbled across something called the Doe Network. It is a bit morbid, but I was fascinated. This network is dedicated to discovering the identities of John/Jane Does found over the years. I had a vague recollection of hearing about something like this, but had no idea...

If you have time, read this article. It is an inspiring story of how this network came to be.

The sheer number of unidentified victims and missing persons out there is staggering. I just briefly scrolled down the John/Jane Does and saw page after page after page of unidentified people. There are several thousands. Many are victims of probable crimes, and some were found after more innocent events (car accidents and such). I just found the entire matter very, very sad.

The saddest thing that I realized was that many of these missing people and found people do not match. That means that there are more people out there that have not been found. And even worse, there are many people out there that have been found, but were not reported missing. Ugh.

Now, being the goofball I am, I decided to try to find a missing girl from Texas. So I put on my cape and spent about 45 minutes on the search. I did everything I could think of to find her. She did not appear to be one of the Jane Doe’s listed. So, I thought she must still be alive. I was actually giddy. I started checking Google for any entries for her. I even checked to make sure she didn’t have a Facebook page… she didn’t. All I could find was articles about how she went missing.

I’m an idiot. As if these people hadn’t done this already. Did I really think that I was going to find her – in 45 minutes? If she was just a runaway, do I really think she would have a Facebook page using her real name? Maybe she didn’t want to be found. Even as I type this, I roll my own eyes! I’m ridiculous.

Still, I think this is such a remarkable project and I wanted to share it with you. I wish I could help these poor people: both the living looking for the lost, and the lost who cannot speak for themselves.

Most poignant to me was the comment in the article: "The one real fear in life is not death -- the greatest monster of all is the unknown.”

The Presence of Sound vs. The Gift of Silence

Anyone that knows me will tell you that I’m not frequently described as a quiet person. On the contrary, I like to talk. Silence is usually very uncomfortable for me, so I’m constantly trying to fill that silence with anything. And since I’m not very good a bird calls or singing, I talk.

I am unable to ride in an elevator with another person without commenting on something… their hair, the weather, the elevator buttons, whatever. Waiting in line is another favorite of mine. Misery loves company, and I’m sure to comment on this to those around me. It’s amazing the different reactions you get from strangers when you spark a conversation. Most people seemed genuinely pleased with the interaction, and actually talk back. A few are a little taken aback and seem to want to run from you. Weird.

My two little girls, Pumpkin and Cookie, are already showing very strong signs of trying to keep up with their mother. They talk their Daddy’s ears off. Boog, who is 18-years-old, has the perfect combination of sharing and keeping quiet. However, my son Weasel, who is now 16-years-old, is the exact opposite of his mother.

He doesn’t talk… period. His verbal vocabulary consists of “’salright” and “that’s fine” and some sort of grunt when he shrugs. He has been a quiet guy forever. It’s quite frustrating for me. I want to hear about everything in his life, and he has nothing to share. Not only does he have the affliction of being a teenage boy, he also has a natural tendency to keep quiet. It’s a lethal combination.

In an attempt to figure out if there was anything physically or psychologically wrong with him, I took him to see a doctor. He had been diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder when he was about nine, which can be quite debilitating for him. But more recently, the real revelation came in the fact that this doctor diagnosed ME with talking too much! She said that I talked for him, which led him to retreat inside himself. What? Is that really a diagnosis? Is that really a problem?

I always thought that my outgoing personality and talkative nature was a good thing. It was something that always kept me in touch with my fellow man. It was the thing helped me make new friends. It has made me a smartass in the best sense of the word. And now, it’s made my son quiet?

I suppose it makes sense on paper. I talk, therefore he doesn’t. So, what does this mean? Did I create my own sort of Frankenstein monster? How can I live with myself? I damaged my baby boy by being too talkative.

Should I start being quiet now? My husband, I’m sure, would be quick to say yes to that question. But no such luck, Darlin’.

Anyone that knows me now would also not believe that I too was once a quiet young lady long ago. Yup, it’s true. So there is hope that he will grow out of it and be as talkative as his mother one day. It’s going to be getting louder around here over the next few years. Perhaps it’s time to invest in some industrial earplugs, Darlin’.

Within Legal Limits

I adore my mother-in-law. Unlike what is traditionally accepted, I would pick my MIL over most people on this planet. Quite often, I remind my husband that should our relationship not last, then I get his mother and he can have the house. Heck, there are parts of me that wonder if I married him just to be related to her and her family.

The best part of my MIL is that she seems to like me too! When I call her, I usually tell her it’s her favorite daughter-in-law (although I am the only one, which makes me the least favorite too). When she calls, I usually talk to her without even handing the phone to her son… followed by an “Oops, sorry, honey. Did you want to talk to your mom?” And whenever her son does something that irks me, she completely understands and even agrees with me from time to time, instead of blindly defending her offspring.

And her grandbabies… She loves those little girls so much, it’s amazing. Whenever they are around her, she is just laughing and laughing. We are sometimes concerned she will laugh herself into a heart attack. But so far, she has managed to stay conscious. She has the hardest time telling them no, to whatever they request. Although we are working on her to be a little more strict - no more Mountain Dew or Pepsi with their sugary snacks - no staying up to 11:00 p.m. when she babysits.

She is from a real Texas country family. Her family settled not far from Austin many years ago, like the mid 1800’s. She is number 9 out of 14 children! (ouch) And obviously, those children reproduced over the years. Hubs is grandchild number 31, and my two littlest ones are great-grandchildren number 49 and 55 of 58 (after a while, it’s just ludicrous to keep counting). One thing is for sure: Very Big Family! Hubs used to be afraid to date anyone in this part of town for fear that he might find out they were kin!

It is so great to get together with her family because everyone still shows up to the functions. They are a very close family. Even though Grandma and Grandpa have both passed on, all of those kids they created and most of their kids and even their kids’ kids still gather together. We see many of them Labor Day weekend and Memorial Day weekend and at Christmas. They actually have to rent a hall to celebrate Christmas. And I can’t forget to include all the baby showers, bridal showers, weddings, etc. It is the greatest feeling, being with all of those people and actually belonging.

It is so interesting to hear about their lives growing up... about how the boys slept on the porch of their tiny little house... how they would prepare meals for the entire clan… how they would work in the fields. This family is the type that people write television shows about.

And I’m so grateful to be a part of it. So I guess I’ll continue to attempt to keep my husband happy, since he is related by blood. And there probably isn’t a court in the land that would award me his family in the event of divorce. Ahem… you are the best husband in the world, Darlin’.

Technorati Tags: family

Is God Spitting on Us?

Last night, we had a big storm in Austin. It hasn’t rained in what seems like months. And it has been hot, hot, hot. I have lived in Texas all my life, but don’t remember a summer this hot. Although, I think I may say that every summer… but this summer it is the truth! And it’s not just hot, like in Phoenix. It is humid hot. It’s so hot that just looking outside makes you start sweating. And going outside makes you melt. Anyhoo, back to the rain. For days, it has been threatening to rain. The sky would get dark and it would smell like rain. But then it would rain about 5 miles north of Austin and 5 miles south. It felt like perhaps we did something wrong and God was just teasing us. Well, he made up for it last night. It was a gorgeous thunderstorm with rain jut pouring from the sky. And it was in the early evening, so we could still enjoy it. My husband put buckets out to catch the water (so he could water the plants, because this might be the last rain). It was so nice. Then, the lights went out. Oh no! There was a very loud clap of thunder with lightening that I think hit something about 100 feet outside my yard. I even went out to make sure nothing was on fire. Well, nothing was. The lights went out and stayed out, which is actually a bit unusual for us. They were out for about 1 ½ hours. And it was blissful! No TV, no X-box, no static noise… it was so nice. The only sounds were from the kids. And the little ones weren’t even scared (whew!). We just watched the rain. Then put the little girls to bed. It was so quiet in the neighborhood and it was getting so dark as the sun went down. I laughed when I told my husband that it felt like we were the last people on earth and man-eating zombies were approaching. Thank goodness we have that diesel! With nothing else to do, we played games! We attempted to remember how to play Farkle, but couldn’t get the rules straight. (I need my coach, Dawn). Then we played rummy, which I kicked some major butt. Then my son and I were about to start a game of chess… and blip, the lights came back on. Awwwww. But here’s the best thing, he still wanted to play chess with his mom. So I got a little bonding time with my anti-social teenage son. It was wonderful! However, I haven’t been able to beat my son in chess since he was about seven… and he beat me again. I no longer felt like we were being punished. I felt like it was some sort of reward! Thank you for forcing us to spend time as a family!

Carbon-Based Non-Humans

Along with my two batches of children, we also have two batches of animals... two dogs and two cats. I won't include the fish as they are more closely compared to décor than pets. Like the kiddos, the animals are complete opposites from one another. The dogs… Charlie and Sienna. Charlie is a 120-pound golden retriever; Sienna is a 40-pound dachshund/german-shepherd mix (I know, weird). Sienna is bundle of energy and constantly bouncing around, and she is my escape artist. Charlie is a little older and has a bad hip, so he is slower to move. When they play chase, it’s basically Sienna running as fast as she can in a figure-eight while Charlie stands in the middle of the crossroad waiting for her to zip by. He just reaches out to try to get her and doesn’t move his feet. I truly believe he thinks he will actually catch her one day using this method. He’s either smart enough to not try, or too stupid to realize his method isn’t working. I choose to believe he is smart. Now the cats… Sophie and Daphne. Sophie is the anti-social one, just a fat snob. Most people don’t even realize that we had that cat because she never really comes downstairs. She is Boog's cat and knows it. The rest of us are just annoyances to her. Whenever we see her downstairs, our first thought is something is wrong. Daphne is the complete opposite of Sophie. Daphne is a lovable, cuddly, purring kitty that cannot seem to get enough us. She is constantly following us around and sits either right next to us or right on top of us. She even sleeps between my pillow and my Hubs’ pillow. Even though I love her best (I’m not sure if you could tell), she seems to prefer Hubs. It’s probably because he is the primary caretaker of the animals, where I am more like the grandma. I love them all, but really just want to admire and cuddle with them without actually having any actual responsibility. He cleans up the pee from little accidents, feeds them every day, picks up dog poop in the backyard, takes them to the vet, etc. I am not sure what I would do without my zookeeper. It allows me to enjoy the animals without having to do much of anything. And I want to make sure that he knows how much it is appreciated. All of us humans in the house get to enjoy the non-humans thanks to his hard work. Thank you, Darlin'.