Grant Funnies

Grant was a hoot this weekend. First of all, I REALLY wish I had pictures of him dancing at the school dance on Friday. SO SO SO funny! He did bring two balloons home from the dance. He was feeling artsy on Saturday morning after the dance.

Meet Harry Popper and Pinky:

Grant says that they are in love and like to kiss alot - especially on Valentine's Day. And, can we just stop for a moment and realize how adorable, smart, witty and clever he is that he gave the boy balloon round spectacles and named him "Harry Popper" all on his own. I know I am his mother and therefore biased but I'm just gonna say that I think it is awfully clever for a five year old to come up with that kind of play on words.

In a more disturbing turn of events...Saturday morning found us sleeping in late and Grant finally came in and crawled in the bed. He was chatting with mom and dad when he remembered that it was Valentine's Day. Rich asked him if he knew what Valentine's Day was about. Grant said, "yes. it is when you pull your pants down and spread your love around the whole world." WTH? WHO the heck are this kid's parents? They must be some seriously effed-up people. I'm just sayin.

Just a Phase, Right?

So, I have a confession. I am SICK TO FREAKING DEATH of being old and responsible. I'm sick of being practical and dependable. I have been all of these things since the dawn of time. Something snapped about a week or so ago. I want to go out. I want to be carefree and fun. I NEED a party. Lots of parties. Crazy, rumpus ones.

MORE of THIS:
LESS of THIS:



I'm assuming, because I think I'm a pretty darn good mom, that I will get over this. Its just a phase. It will pass. But, in the meantime...My champagne glass needs a refill, please.

Overheard From The Back Of The Van

You guys are going to think I made this up. This was an actual, practically verbatim conversation from the back of my van this afternoon during carpool. If you do do not believe me, you can call or email Jamie or Connor. They were there too, they can vouch for my truthfulness! Grant is five and Livvy is four. All capitalization was actual emphatic voice raising and inflection...


Olivia: Are we getting married?

Grant: Yeah, still. But when we're married it is YOUR job to change ALL da diapers.

Olivia: Not when I go to Book Club. When I go to Book Club you have to change the diapers. Even the poopy ones.

Grant: I'll go to Book Club.

Olivia: Daddies don't go to Book Club. They stay home to change the diapers and put all the kids in the bed.

Grant: We'll have to take the babies on our date.

Olivia: NNNOOOO THAT is a family date!! When WE go on a date the Grammy or the Auntie or the babysitter will change the diapers.

Grant: We have to take the baby on the dates!

Olivia: THAT IS NNNOOOTT A DATE!!! Dates are when the babies STAY HOME! When we get married you will know that.

Times like these, I am so glad I got the van without the rear entertainment system. This is SO much better!

Trader Tuesday - NEED YOUR INPUT! And, Some Bonus Whining

I'm having trouble focusing on my Trader Tuesday contribution. So, here's the plan. You are all going to help me out. Tell me what kind of recipe you are interested in today. Quick dinner ala Sandara Lee's Semi-homemade style? Or fancy-pants, send children away for the night, impress the hubs dinner ? Quick and easy dessert? Showy dessert? Old southern favs? One caveat - I DO NOT fry chicken at home. Ever. So, don't ask me about that. Ill post at 10:30, so get those requests in!

Reasons I cannot focus:

• Too long of a to-do list
• Fall Festival
• Obsessing about dress for wedding. If I get brave Ill take pics of myself in all three and you can vote. Or, not. My internet bravado has its limits.
• Damn family always needs to be fed
• Choosing furniture (read: OBSESSING!)
• Pissed off that the eldest got not one, BUT TWO, detentions! And would you effing believe that one of them was for SOCKS!!!!!
• Other general, pissiness of both the friend and marital nature.
• Went to Pilates for first time since December. Might I suggest that you do not ever take 10 months off of an activity you plan to continue? It hurts both your muscles and YOUR EGO very, very much.

You Are Going To Be SO Jealous

This weekend:

• Husband is on road-trip bachelor party (can you see my eyes rolling?)
• Jamie has history fair deadlines looming in the hear future
• Jamie has major mythology exam
• Jamie has SAT to study a bit for
• Jamie has mythology presentation to plan
• Connor has First Tee
• Grant is way behind in his speech therapy "at home" work.
• I have not followed through on my get ready to look hot-as-hell-and-knock-husband-on-his-ass-with-my-awesomeness-in-cute-dress-for-wedding plans. Feel need to start cramming like Claire Huxtable (Do you remember that episode?)
• It is October the 4th and it is NINETY EFFING FOUR DEGREES outside and the rest of the damn country is "falling" into autumn. Texas sucks.
• Need to paint fireplace brick and need to paint bathroom
• Need to clean out fridge and clean the shelves and drawers

Okay, since you asked.... **Edited to add 2 most embarrassing moments of the evening

I was not going to bore you with stories from "apple land," but some of you ASKED about it. AND some of you might need to plan your own events one day. So, here's the scoop. Everything was red and white gingham. The centerpieces were overflowing baskets of apples tied with gingham ribbon. The kids decorated their own paper apples that will later be transferred to a big bulletin board in the front hall of the school along with pictures from the dance. (the pictures do not look as cute as it did irl. AND I look awful because I was 1. EXHAUSTED and 2. had non-contagious allergen/viral pink eye!)

As you entered the building...we blocked off the first entrance to the gym with a "picture spot" made with apple trees made by sparkly, beaded apple sin ficus topiaries, potted flowers, apple garland, etc. there were also five apples to put your face in...so cute.


As you proceeded down the hallway to the entrance there were more than a hundred apples lining the walls. We sent home paper apples to the parents and had them secretly send them back to school. Then, the kids "found" their apples at the dance to see all the beautiful things their parents said about them. This one about the "fanny dance" was one of my favorites.




Then, inside the "foyer" we had snacks and crafts. The snacks were apple "nachos." the "chips" were apple slices and the "cheese" was caramel sauce (all served in a nacho tray of course). We had also planned to have little cups of green jelly beans to be the "jalapenos," but those didn't get purchased in time...We also had the popcorn machine running and lemonade. (probably should've been apple cider, eh?)





The kids danced the night away and these are two very, very very, tired girls. They need a nap and a long lunch at Bistro Louise followed by pedicures. (meet the illustrious Jennifer...) You know, WHAT was I thinking taking a picure with a girl 8 years my junior when I hadn't slept and HAD PINK EYE???? I didnt even have on real make-up...scared to irritate my eyes.

**Two most embarrassing moments of the evening:

1. I was busy refilling lemonade and realized that I was singing - I knew every single word to Miley Cyrus's 7 Things! Huh? How? I'm not 13!

2. Jennifer and I somehow ended up dancing the Macarena with the kids. I overheard a dad whisper, "OMG! What would it be like if those two WERE drinking?"

AAWWWW, You Guys...You're the Best!

You guys....you are the best, really you are. It brought a literal mist to my eyes to get all the phone calls, email, and comments inquiring as to my whereabouts and well-being!

Unfortunately, I am still not really in the state-of-mind to blog. Just in a plain ol', old-fashioned funk. I have tried to work through said funk by writing about it, but it is so vague that there is nothing TO write. I just can't put my finger on what is causing it! Basically, it is everything and also nothing. Have you ever felt like that? I'm sure you have.

Also, I am short on time lately. Holy Hell! the PTO owns me. Maybe it is because the somewhat OCD part of me takes over and "good enough" is NEVER enough for me. And there is just ALWAYS another event to plan or group to organize or spreadsheet to create. Currently, I am entrenched in planning a Johnny Appleseed back-to-school family dance. The details, while interesting and adorable to me, would bore you to tears.

Lastly, the traveling husband has been home more than is typical lately. It has been nice, but he requires my time when he is here - hence, less time for blogging. (And Ill tell you a secret...I must be accustomed to his being gone so often, because he was starting to drive me Ca-razy and I was not too very sad to see him depart for a few days this morning!)

I'm still keeping up with all of you and your more-interesting-than-mine lives though! so, even if I'm not actually writing here, Ill at least try to be better about commenting. It just seems to require SO much energy...ugh, see what I mean? I am in such a funk that I think it takes too much energy to comment! WTH?

Oh, and, tonight is the first night that I've had to wait up for my suddenly-a-teenager to come home. He went to the high school football game with his friends and his friends' older siblings. I guess this is where IT starts!!!!!! EECK! Wasn't it just five minutes ago that I was tying green and gold ribbons onto my ponytail before a high school football game on a Friday night?

Lesser Moments in Parenting; You Can't Kill a Chicken That's Already Dead!

I have a temper. A big, bad one. I have learned over the years how to contact my inner "zen" when i feel myself losing it. However, there is one topic that causes me to blow my top every. single. time. My husband has an annoying way of belittling my housekeeping skills. I am not the best at it. But, I like it to be clean and orderly and I am my own worst critic. I beat myself up about it all the time. I am a VERY busy person. I have three kids and a husband who is perpetually traveling. You might be able to imagine how much it makes me crazy when he saunters home from a trip in a hotel room to let me know how I could be doing things better around here. Ya know? AS IF he has a fllippin clue as to how to run things around here or how crazy it is on a day to day basis. Even on the few times I have left him in charge I come home to homework not done, bedtimes ignored, and sometimes a mess in the kitchen. Weekends he's in charge - I leave meals to eat, school project supplies purchased and organized with a plan for the project...let's just say he doesn't get the REAL picture of what it is like to be me! And, he has this completely DELUDED notion that he is the only one in the house who picks up after himself and he is rather sanctimonious about it. This makes my head spin in rapid circles while levitating above my neck because he has NO IDEA how many things of his I pick up and put away on a daily basis. I could explain this topic forever, but that is not the point today (although it is always the point of every irritating thought in my head!). Long point made short - his commenting on housework makes me mad as hell.

One night a few years ago, I was already in a bad mood due to children being irritating and especially needy. The house was a mess. I had had a hell of a day. We had just moved here and I was homesick and had no friends. I was making dinner. It was probably something yummy, but I don't remember what it was. I was managing dinner, homework, and at that point Grant was still a new walker and was toddling around behind me whining and clutching my legs while I tried to bustle around the kitchen. There was a package of chicken breasts on the counter. One of the packages in the styrofoam trays. Rich enters the house and proceeds to criticize my parenting, my homework tutelage, etc, etc....I'm obviously pissed, yet he just keeps right on. I think I even warned him to cut it out! Then, he did it...He stared asking me in some condescending, sing-song way about every thing on the counter. Fight started. Game on.

I was so irate that I think I honestly blacked out. I remember feeling dizzy and woozy my head was spinning so fast. My ears were literally hot. I was getting ready to slice the chicken breasts with a big knife. Finally, I was ready to hurt someone or throw something. Somehow this rage turned into me screaming at him to "JUST!! SHUT!! UP!!!! I! HATE!! YOU!!" while I stabbed the chicken over and over with the big knife. Next thing I know, I see Jamie and Connor (ages 9 and 6) cowering in the corner, whimpering, "she's killing the chicken...." I had scared the crap out of them. I feel very badly about it to this day. It was DEFINITELY a lesser moment in parenting. It got worse. Later, when trying to apologize to everyone for my inexcusable behavior I tried to justify part of my behavior by rationalizing that you can't kill something that is already dead. (told Rich privately that he should be damn happy there was chicken on the counter or he might have been at the end of my knife instead of the chicken) However, it is pretty funny around here when people use the chicken as a warning. Just the other day, Rich and I were bantering about politics (when aren't we?) and Jamie says, "Dad, I think you'd better cool it or she's gonna kill another chicken." And, whenever Rich helps cook (and by help, I mean take things out of the refrigerator when I ask, because seriously, I'm not sure he can boil water) if there is chicken anywhere to be seen, he will point to he chicken and say, "you boys better behave or the chicken's gonna get it!"

Are you all afraid of me now?

Trader Tuesdays - on Wednesday

From Twitter today:
LEEXXXX @yankeemb ummm.... all talk and no recipe action? consider your wrist slapped. ;) Hope nothing bad happened... you ok? about 15 hours ago from web in reply to yankeemb

Nothing Bad happend, just, well, PTO happened.

So sorry about the Trader Tuesday fellow recipe lovers! My excuse is that it was the first PTO meeting of the year (my first meeting as president)...enough said? It was ca-ray-zeee around here! I thought Id post when I made it home after meeting and getting kids to bed...hahaha...I am so naive.

AAANNNDDD, there is the little matter that I am embarrassed to publish my recipe for the week in light of the fact that 3 of the Tuesday Traders are real Louisianans, not just people from the near-to-Louisiana gulf coast like myself. However, I am too damn tired to think of a new one, so here is my Cheater's version of Red Beans and Rice. It is SUPER QUICK and EASY, yet is still my husband's favorite dinner. I make sure to get this on the stove simmering before he comes home if he is mad at or annoyed with me. The smell hits him in the garage before he even walks into the house. He walks in the door with a smile. (If Ive REALLY pissed him off, I pour a really cold Abita into a frosty mug when I hear the garage door go up signaling his arrival) The kids all love it too - the beans, not the beer.

Cheater's Red Beans and Rice

• 1 -2 cloves garlic (to your taste)
• 1 lb smoked sausage (or whatever kind you like - andouille, hot, whatever, but plain 'ol smoked sausage will do )
• 1 medium onion (or 1/2 large) ( I don't like it too onion-y)
• 3 cans light red kidney beans
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 1 1/2 tsp Creole Seasoning ( I use Tony's)
• 1 small bay leaf
• a few dashes Louisiana style hot sauce (Tabasco, Louisiana, Crystal (my favorite), or another)
• A bit of olive oil
  

Finely chop onion. Slice sausage. (I like to cut my round slices into halves or fourths - I like smaller pieces of sausage, but you can leave them bigger if you like).

Heat enough oil in dutch oven to sweat the onion. After the onions have been in for a minute or two, add in the sausage and brown the onion and sausage together. When close to browned, add in your garlic. Finish browning. Then, add in your chicken broth to your hot pan, being sure to scrape up any of that yummy brown goodness sticking to the bottom of the pan. Then add in your 3, undrained, cans of beans. Stir in your seasoning, hot sauce, and bay leaf. Bring close to, but not quite to a boil. Then simmer for about 30 minutes covered. Then simmer for about 30-45 minutes uncovered. This sounds like a long time, but it is basically hands off for all of that simmering time except for the very occasional stir of the pot.

When you are ready, cook up some long grain rice. Serve beans over rice. I usually serve this up with some crusty French bread and a spinach salad. Leftovers are great and my boys love to take them for lunch at school. (consider this link to be additional kitchen help to make up for my tardiness in Tuesday trading!)

Okay, I'm off to do more PTO work and iron shirts for the fugliest formal uniform in the history of uniforms. (hate thursdays!) Once I get a little more caught up (when the hell is that going to be?*%$#!?#!) I plan to start a new series of posts. I was looking through my recent posts and archives and noticed that I sound a little too "perfect mommy - muffiaish" OOOH NO! Not so! So, I'm going to post some installments of "Greater Moments in Parenting" and some installments of "Lesser Moments in Parenting." You all have to promise to not call CPS though, okay?

Letting the Punishment Fit the Crime

If you know me IRL, then you know that this is often how I parent. I think the fancy-pants psychologists call it "natural-consequence parenting." I call it "better than screaming my bloody head off and wanting to strangle them parenting." I like to make a lasting impression on them so that they do not repeat whatever offensive behavior has occurred. ( I am afraid that, on occasion, the lasting impression created is that their mother is a psycho.)

For example, when the big two were little and they got into a squabble that escalated to the point where one hit, pinched, kicked the other then the punishment was that they had to sit and hold hands for 5 minutes. At the end of the five minutes, they could only get up if they could apologize to each other and tell me three good reasons they were glad that the other was their brother. (do I have this on video? You better believe it!) If you slam a door in this house, you are required to SLOWLY open and close it 10 times without making a bit of noise - If you make noise, you start back over at 1. If you cannot pick up your toys, then obviously you have too many to handle and we should give them to unfortunate children who do not have so many. Can't stop biting your nails in church? Well then, obviously you need a manicure! Which I will complete with pink nail polish that you will leave on for at least 24 hours as we run around town.

I've got more, but you get the idea. Yes?

Today was a "non-uniform" day at school. Jamie came out for breakfast looking presentable. However, I noticed that he had on no-show socks with his Vans. The school has some stupid rule about this for some unknown, stupid reason. Your socks have to show and they have to cover your ankle bone. ( I know! DUMB! but its the RULE!) I brought this to Jamie's attention. He informed me that I was wrong and that Amber (a girl in his class) told him that the rule had changed. I replied that I was unaware of this and that I would know as I am on the darn policy committee. He insisted that he was SURE about this new found sock freedom. He ate and left for school.

I went about my normal business. At around 10:30 am I went to pull my cell phone off the charger. I saw that I had a missed call/voicemail at 8:21am. Do I really need to tell you who it was from and what it said? Of course it was Jamie pleading for me to bring him socks so that he would not get an Out of Uniform violation....HA! AS IF! No way! You can take the violation, pal! I thought I was doing well to not cave and force him to suffer the consequences of his bad choices.

BUT I WAS OUTDONE AT MY OWN GAME!!!! I present you with the sight that greeted me when I picked him up at 3pm this afternoon...

Yes, yes, in case you can't see them clearly... Those are PINK knee socks!!!

The only problem here is that Jamie found it all quite hilarious, especially since two of his friends suffered the same fate. I think the three of them kind of enjoyed their "celebrity status" all day. Lets just hope that the lesson was still learned even if it wasn't exactly "the hard way."

Bye-Bye Birdie -OR- Why Don't I Know and Live Close to MoMommy? -OR- My Damn Bleeding Heart Husband -OR- I Don't Even like Dogs!

What a weekend! Saturday morning found mom and dad sleeping in. It was heavenly. Not long after getting out of bed, Grant came running in the front door to inform us that, " Daddy, Daddy! There are baby birds on the sidewalk Really, really, BABY birds." And we were all, "grumble, mmhmm,, grumble, coffee, creamer, uh-huh." Then, Jamie came in to back up Grant informing us that Grant was not exaggerating, there were, in fact, two brand-new birds on the sidewalk and that only one was alive. The kids were not giving this up so Rich went out to investigate. Grant followed closely behind him. Next thing I know, Rich was back inside calling down the hallway that, "we have a problem." The problem became apparent when I came out of my room to find Rich in the hallway with a tiny, tiny, baby bird in his hand. I said something along the lines of, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" He said, "I know, I know, but Grant was there kneeling next to me and when the bird opened its beak, Grant looked up and said, 'he's huu-ngree, Daddy' " he continued that, "Furthermore, it was OUR cat who ingested the bird's mother and brother." And THAT is how I ended up making a baby bird incubator out of a heating pad, tupperware, and paper towels, and making baby bird Karo water and baby bird food out of soggy cat food. (You all see the irony in THAT one, right?)



As it turns out, you have to feed a baby bird like EVERY TEN MINUTES for at least 12 hours a day! And, also, they poop. A LOT. I was none too happy about all of this and assumed that the bird would give up the fight in a short while. Nope. Bird is still alive. I told Rich that apparently the bird was viable and that I was in NO WAY going to raise a bird for 3-6 weeks until it could fly (we figured out by looking on line that the bird was between 5 and 7 days post hatch.) all the while feeding it every 30 minutes....Not to mention IT IS JUST GROSS and should not be in my house. He checked around and Animal Control said they knew of some private rehabilitators that could care for it. Animal Control came and picked it up just a few minutes ago. What do you think the chances are that they are totally blowing sunshine up our rear ends and that there are no rehabilitators and that they just killed it??? Because now I'm like all sad and shit. Damn baby bird, I didn't even like you. You were UGLY and weird looking, but now I'm sad they might kill you.



Good Luck Baby Bird. You were kind of cute in your own hideously ugly way.

Back to School - The After School Edition

• Connor likes his teacher
• Jamie likes all of his teachers, but thinks it is a pain to have to change classes and go to his locker all day.
• Connor was not happy at all that his religion teacher gave them an assignment on the first day. In fact he said, "I don't think a religion teacher should be so sacrilegious as to give us an assignment on the first day."
• Jamie was equally displeased that the new Spanish teacher gave him an assignment on the first day.
• Neither Connor nor Jamie likes that the new Spanish teacher speaks no English in her classroom for 5th grade and up. In further evidence that my children are total smart-asses they said, "She makes Spanish seem like a foreign language!" They thought they were very clever and cracked themselves up at lunch over this one. (We ate trashy Chinese at the buffet they make me take them to every year on the first day of school. I happen to LOVE tradition for the sake of tradition, so I play along even though the food is gross. Blame the Catholicity!)
• More evidence that my kids are ridiculously lucky to get to go to this school...Every kid found one of these beautiful cookies on their desk this morning: (School mascot is a hornet)

Say a little prayer that tomorrow goes as smoothly. I have my doubts as tomorrow is a formal uniform day, and I'm likely to forget to help Jamie tie his tie tonight and then there will be much stressing an crazy hurrying around like chickens with our heads cut off in the morning. Hopefully, just writing that sentence here will help imprint the mental memo onto my brain. Or, maybe Ill make my Palm yell at me ...Duh! Should have thought of that before right now!

All Systems Go! Photodocumentation for Dad

The first day of 5th and 7th grades! It went pretty smoothly. I hope they don't think breakfast will be this yummy everyday. They had raspberry coffee cake, eggs, bacon, and fruit. Yes, that is a coffee cup in front of Connor - he is his momma's boy!

The annual front and back "ready to go" pictures!

OH MY GOSH!!! Best part of the morning! The music teacher was playing twinkling background piano as the students and parents came in this morning. It was like the festive happy atmosphere of Nordstroms on a Saturday. I LOVE this school for things just like this. It REALLY IS the little touches that matter! I could gush about their school for many a paragraph, so I'll cut myself off right here.

Connor in the 5th Grade classroom!

I even snuck down the middle school hallway and got these blurry pictures of the new 7th grader! He looks just "miserable," doesn't he?

Does Dinner Taste Better in a Pretty Kitchen? **EDITED for leftovers!

I do not know for sure, but I can tell you for sure that every single person in my family asked for seconds and raved and gushed about dinner last night. I can always count on one or two people to love dinner, while the other one or two act as though I'm feeding them rotten Alpo. EVERYONE being thrilled with dinner is a big deal. It was a simple dinner so I thought I'd share my creation with anyone interested. (If you lived in Japan with me, or ever visited me there, this tastes A LOT like Pancho's chicken salsa blanca!)


Take 5 boneless/skinless chicken breasts and put them in a baking dish. Season them liberally with taco seasoning, garlic salt, and black pepper. Slice a small onion and lay a few rings over the chicken. Drizzle all of this with the tiniest amount of a neutral oil such as light/extra light olive oil or just a vegetable/canola oil. Bake chicken in a 375 degree oven for about 3o minutes or until done depending upon the size of your chicken breasts.

Let cool for about 10 minutes or until you feel like dealing with getting dinner on the table. Then chop and/or shred all of the chicken. Dump the chopped/shredded chicken into a large skillet or saute pan. Add in about 1 1/2 - 2 cups Pace Salsa Verde. (you can also toss in some minced jalapeno here for some extra "kick") Mix together over medium-high heat. Let it really start to simmer/boil. Then just let it cook for about 45 minutes to an hour or until most of the liquid has evaporated. (you won't be able to evaporate all of it, but it will be greatly reduced) At this point cut 4-6 oz of light cream cheese into pieces and stir it into the hot chicken until melted and blended. Stir in a bit of salt and pepper. Serve alongside warm corn and/or flour tortillas. I baked some refried beans topped with enchilada sauce and shredded cheese as a side dish. A big fruit salad made for a refreshing accompaniment as well.

Hope your family enjoys as much as mine. It was really easy! You could even bake and chop the chicken the night before...How easy would that make dinner the next day?


**EDIT/UPDATE** Leftoves are di-vine over rice! (thought of doing this first go-around next time, but cooking the rice with rotel mixed in)

Truer Words Never Spoken

A friend of Connor's came to pick him up to take him to his class's Back-to-School party tonight. His mother is very nice and she is fascinated by the pilot marriage lifestyle. She is constantly (like to the point of being annoying) telling me how she "could not do it!" she "doesn't know HOW I do it!" and that I am her "hero" and "amazing!" It is all very sweet. Really, it is. I'm not gonna say that I don't like the praise. I usually respond that,"Well, I've never known anything different." Today, she was gushing more than usual after a week of PTO craziness. She only saw the results. She didn't see the behind-the-scenes pictures of my house going to hell in a hand basket, or the laundry piling up higher than Mount McKinley, or the amount of fast food crap my children ate during the insanity that was my week. She once again said, " I just don't know how you do all that you do!"

Connor looked up at her and said, "Sometimes she just doesn't."

That, my friends, is EXACTLY HOW I do it...Sometimes I just DON'T.

Pros and Cons

Pros to being sick before vacation:

• Probably will be well and not likely to get sick while ON vacation
• Lose a few pounds, even if it isn't the healthiest way to do so
• good excuse for procrastinating all the prep work and packing
• lots of couch time to make all those lists that I LUURV to make before packing!

Cons to being sick before vacation:

• HolyCrapHolyCrapHolyCrapDoYouSeeThatCountdownOverThereInThePinkBox?????
• No one else here to shop and pack
• House needs to be clean and orderly as there will hopefully be remodeling progress while we are at beach! And I can NOT NOT NOT stand to come home to a mess and feel immediately overwhelmed and thrust back into reality!
• My SIL and I decided years ago that all b-day gifts will be exchanged at beach instead of throughout the year. This is SOOO much easier - UNLESS you are so sick that you can NOT move from couch and have not yet purchased b-day gifts for your nieces!

Also, if you have written lovely, thought provoking, or funny as hell posts in the past two days I apologize for not commenting. I had comments I wanted to share, but even my freaking fingers ached. I tried to send the comments telepathically,but I don't think it worked.

This is a Friday? Can I get a do-over please?

Have you ever seen the Lemony Snicket's movie, A Series of Unfortunate Events? Well, at the very beginning, there is an adorable cheerful clip of a movie about happy elves which is abruptly stopped as the narrator says, "I'm terribly sorry. This isn't the movie you'll be watching. The movie you are about to see is extremely unpleasant. If you wish to see a movie about a happy little elf, I'm sure there is still plenty of seating in theater number 2." Tonight that would be a fitting intro for this blog!

*I slept a whopping total of four hours last night. Those four hours were not consecutive, and some parts of them were spent on the bathroom floor hoping that steam from the shower would help Grant to stop coughing and to breathe a little easier.

*Connor was bawling that his ear hurt. hmmm, oh, yeah, remember that fever from a few days ago? Now, I'm catching on...

*I cleaned out the refrigerator

*I had a laser hair removal appt - if you haven't done this, I recommend it, but OMG does it hurt LIKE HELL!

*My mouth is in pain from the dental work I had done yesterday.

*The doc prescribed stuff for the boys. I dropped scrips off at 2:15pm. At 4:50pm the pharmacy realized that they couldn't decipher one of the scrips and faxed the offices (why not JUST CALL???) surprise - already gone home. DUH! No meds for you, MaryB!

*Go to Central Market to get sushi for boys and myoplex bars for me. Forget it was Friday - Burgers and Bock. Look at all adorable, fun people as I wait for a parking place for like 25 minutes. Feel like loser when I see everyone on the patio living it up with the live band whilst I get take out sushi in my workout wear. THEN, most all sushi was gone!

*Leave Central Market with NO Dorothea's potato chip goat cheese! (trust me! Sounds crazy, but is De-lish!)

*Mow lawn. This a real PITA since the Texas State Utilities Commission and Atmos (Assmost as we are currently referring to them here) are taking their sweet time redoing all the gas lines on our street. Almost fall into 15 ft deep hole they have dug in my yard.

*Delicately handle a WAY weird text message from neighbor. (Nervous tummy x 100,000!)

*The only good parts - Watching the 2nd half of August Rush with the boys, and seeing Rich's number on my caller ID for the first time in weeks! One more two-way run of the Orient and then he is on his way home!

This was NOT how I envisioned the beginning of our summer vacation!

I will find something happy and uplifting to say tomorrow. Hope you all had fun for me this Friday night!

Like Mother Like Daughter

My friend Susan who NEVER EVER EVER reads blogs (whats up with that?) checked mine yesterday. She called me laughing hysterically to inform me that I am "a walking dichotomy." She continued, "who else cares enough to spend 18 months researching mascara like it is the secret to world peace, yet still does calculus in her sleep and likes to discuss the ways our country teaches math all wrong to our children?" (yeah, don't get me started on the kindergarten teacher who told the kids that a square has 4 angles, a triangle has 3, and a circle has none!-AAARGGHHHH!)

This is only interesting because I have had had a post languishing in my drafts folder titled, "A Walking Dichotomy." It was about my mother. My mom is also a chemist. However, unlike me, she actually DOES SOMETHING, for monetary gain, involving the chemistry. She flies all over the freaking planet putting her mad chemistry skills to use working on military aircraft and whatnot. In the past few years she has actually flown out to aircraft carriers while they were at sea. I think she has more tailhook catches than my husband. HOWEVER, WHAT WAS SHE DOING in the back of the C-2 on the way to the carrier????? Smocking baby dresses! And, knowing her, she probably baked the pilot some brownies that she made from scratch after she milked a cow and made her own butter to make said brownies.

So, genetics or coincidence? In all seriousness, I guess I have to answer that it is nurture not nature. I give huge props to my parents who never believed in putting people in a "box." You can be girly and feminine while still being wicked smart in "a man's field." You can be a straight, male hairdresser. You could be a really short basketball player. Stereotypes weren't recognized in our house. I hope this is one thing that I am able to successfully convey to another generation.

Are we having fun yet?

Want to know the best way to spend your anniversary and the first day of summer vacation?

Well, it's NOT away from your husband, 11 hours with no electricity in the Texas heat, trying to dose out some meds for your child who has a 104 degree fever by candlelight. Oh, and the day started with a phone call from school to bring one of the boys a uniform because, apparently, free dress passes cannot be used on days with awards assembly.

Yeah, that pretty much sucked.

It can only get better from here, right? Thank goodness I've got Destin and Santa Fe looming in my future.

Too Annoyed to Think of a Pissy Title

Once again I was in the awkward position of feeling as though I had to defend my choice of school for my children. I am getting REALLY, REALLY TIRED of this. My irritation with this topic is trumped only by the lady in the grocery who, upon seeing me (children in tow) pick up a gallon of whole milk, felt the need to tell me that the AAP suggests low-fat after age two. WTF? WHY do people feel the need to interfere in other people's lives? Did she notice that my children are so skinny that CPS might take them away at any moment for malnourishment? Does she know that my oldest is on the verge of going on growth hormones and that he has been undergoing many a bone scan, x-ray, and blood tests??? I just smiled and said,"Well, my pediatrician disagrees with you when it comes to my small children." It occurs to me that she walked off thinking that not only do I not understand nutrition, but that I take my kids to quack of a pediatrician. (Nothing could be further from the truth by the way - she is brilliant. I LOVE her!) Okay. Off topic. Moving on...

To steal a phrase from Tessie, I am WICKED PISSED! My boys go to Catholic school, okay? NOT private school. They are NOT the same thing! BTW, I have nothing against private schools either. Here is a list of things people have said to to me in the past. In real life, I usually pull out my pocket phrase* of, "Well, schools are like shoes and the same one doesn't fit everybody." In purple are things I'd like to say, but rarely do.

• "Don't you think it is irresponsible to spend all that money on elementary school?" Excuse me, is that ANY of your business, and do you even know how much my tuition bill is at our school or how much money we do or do not make?
• "How do you plan to fund their college education? Wouldn't that be a better plan for your money?" Well, maybe - except that I have like five good reasons to disagree with you. What I do not have is either the time or inclination to explain them to you.
• "You know, you are only hurting them in the long run. They will go crazy when you let them out into the real world. You have to stop sheltering them!" Funny thing that - I have like 13 years of Catholic schooling under my belt and have yet to go crazy. The percentage of kids I graduated from grade school or high school with that "went crazy" is NO different than the percentage that "go crazy" in general. Honestly, I'm one of the more well adjusted people I know.
• "People who think they are too good for public school piss me off!" (yes, someone at the park actually said that to me directly after asking me where my kids go to school!)" I have absolutely no words for this one except to say that all three of my boys have better manners than that jerk! No, I do not think I am "too good" for public school. I do, however, think I am "too good" to bother talking to you any further!
• "All of my friends who went to private school were afraid of black people." (OH AND AND AND the person who said this one to me didn't use the word black people - think of a really nasty slur - that's what SHE said!) Tolerance and acceptance is taught at home - not at school. Frankly, I think the Catholic church does a much better job backing up what we teach at home than the average Texan I meet around here. (Sorry for the sweeping generalization here, but really...the racism here blows. my. mind.) One of my proudest moments as a parent was the time that one of my nieces asked her mom if a black girl could marry a white boy. My oldest was there and looked at her like she had nine heads and said, "well, they're both people, right?"
• "Why would you send your children to a school that is not overseen by the state? Is there any accountability without the state tests?" TAKS or FCAT and the like? Teacher pay and bonuses tied to the results? Are you kidding me? Putting those teachers in an impossible situation where you tie their hands to a test and impede their ability to do what they do best? you know, TEACH! You think this is a GOOD idea? You know who oversees my kids school? ME! That's the hell who!
• "Do you realize that you are hurting my children by not sending your kids to public school? I mean you are taking money out of my children's school system!" WTF????? No you dumb ass - I'm helping you. My tax money gets collected and spent just like everyone else's! I'm actually paying money into a system I'm not using which actually BENEFITS you. Do the math!

Oh my gosh, there are SOO many more I could tell you about, but these are some of the highlights. Just to be very, very clear. I have no doubt that the children of my friends who are in the local elem. school are getting a very good education. I'm just saying it is not the choice for us, and I do NOT understand why people feel that it is appropriate to comment, judge, or lecture me about it. I would never do this to anyone about any of their life choices.

I'm looking back and realizing that I did not exactly explain myself very well about how Catholic school is NOT the same as private school. It would take me pages and pages to try to explain this. I will try to cover this in tomorrow's post though. It is a subject near and dear to my heart. And, if you have any questions about Catholic education, feel free to ask. There seem to be a lot of misperceptions out there and I would like to clear them up so I can stop dodging the "Where do your kids go to school?" question like a slick politician.

###DISCLAIMER### Do not take the poor writing on this blog as evidence of shitty Catholic education. I simply refuse to obsess and edit what I write here the way I do everything else. There has to be an end to my OCD and I say it is at this blog. I spew, I spellcheck, I publish. The end. If you ask my children they will tellyou that Iam actually the grammar Nazi. If 12 yrs of Catholic school grammar don't drill it into you, I assure you that 4 semesters of Latin definitely will!

*pocket phrases are phrases that I use verbatim, in a practiced, friendly tone, when I can feel the inside spool reeling up to unleash on someone. I have several that I can rely on to get me out of almost any situation before I lose it and say things I shouldn't. Maybe I should post them. They are so, so useful, but only if you practice them! You have to be willing to talk to yourself in the mirror...