The Busy Edge

I had some people expressing some concern because there have been no Edge updates. Never fear, my friends, we are here. We've just been a tad bit busy. It's too early and I haven't had enough coffee yet to truly focus so I won't go back and read my archives to see if I have mentioned this very juicy tidbit.

SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW!!!

Can't you just see the excitement and giddiness in those words? Hold on a second whilst I savor the moment.

Okay. Am done.

I hear some of you gasping out there in Internet Land because you feel this might be too early. I, too, thought it was an early start date until I looked at the school calendar. These kids will have plenty of time off during the school year. I would almost put money on the fact that other school age kids will be green with envy because my girls will have twenty two days off at Christmas time. That's when we have perfect weather down here in Edge Country anyways. Why, last year, the kids were outside playing with new toys from Santa in shorts in flip flops. Can't beat that. Right now it's just too hot to go outside and the skeeters will tote you off if you pause while walking.

My girls are ready to go. I'm a lucky butt because they enjoy school. Makenna already likes her teacher (whom we met yesterday at open house). The class is big and spacious with lots to do. My baby girl is in third grade. I'm just in shock that she's grown so much so fast. She's read all the books in the house and is anxious to hit the library and find some more reading goodness. By the way....have I mentioned she read the last Harry P*tter book in three days? She literally devoured it.

Paige is a hoot. We took her to her open house last night and she literally floated through the building. Don't you realize one important fact? She is in eighth grade now. She and her cronies "Rule the School". Fred and I were picking on her before we got there and firmly told her she was not to see her friends and do that running-up-while-screaming-and-giggling-saying-omygoddidyouseesoandso deal. Anyone who knows a teenager will tell you this is impossible for them NOT to do. Heh heh...did my heart good to see everyone hollering her name when she went past them. It's going to be a tough year, though. She has gifted everything this go round. Whew. I told her she better get her heart right and understand she's got to buckle down and get busy. Cross your fingers she will. My understanding is pretty much everything she's taking will be on a high school level. My poor baby.

Yeah, the Edge has been right busy the past week trying to get prepared and ready for a new school year. We went home to South Carolina this past weekend for one last visit. Not really the LAST visit...but we won't go for a while because I want the girls to get settled in to a good routine. Driving home on Sunday afternoons is a tough four hour drive for them to do, then turn around and go back to school on Monday mornings. The girls went to see their father on Saturday while I got a special treat. I got to spend the day with my Mama and Daddy. We headed down to Myrtle Beach to do some shopping for the girls. I'll do more specifics on that later this week.

This afternoon will be a little sad for me. Both girls have hair cuts and Makenna is asking to get hers all cut off. ~sigh~ Her hair is so beautiful. It's white blonde and down the middle of her back. I've let Paige decide her hair style since she was Makenna's age, but I don't want to give Mak the same privilege. We did come to a compromise of sorts. She agreed to keep it as long as her shoulders. That'll still be a cool ten inches gone, I'm sure. I'm going to see if our salon does the Locks of Love program. If so, we'll be donating that gorgeous pony tail so some other sweet girl can have pretty hair. Either way, that hair will not end up on the floor. I have pony tails of Paige's I've saved. Maybe I'll put it all together myself and send it off. I don't know. We'll see.

There you have it. That's why I've been negligent in my posting the past few days. As soon as I get the girls settled in nicely, we're going to find The Boy a 3K program to attend. He needs some social skills in a major way. I'm sure all my faithful readers would agree whole heartedly.

A Spare

A spare is a good thing to have around some times. Spare change. A spare tire. You know...things of that nature.

I found me a spare hero this evening.

My first hero is my Daddy. Any girl chile* who has been fortunate enough to have a good Daddy will tell you that he is her very first hero in life. Mine is no exception. He has come to my rescue so many times, I lost count around the age of five. He has answered some of the deepest thought provoking questions. He's fixed cars that prolly should have been shot and buried. When something has gone wrong in my life, I've never hesitated to call on my Daddy. Oh, he might fuss and grumble some because that's his way, but he fixes and repairs to the best of his ability, therefore constantly reaffirming his role as my first hero.

There's my hubby. He was my knight in uniform that made me realize that there are, indeed, good men in this world like my Daddy. He might not can fix a car or build amazing things from scratch with wood and nails, but he sure fixed this messed up heart of mine. That's pretty amazing in my book. And the fact that he's a freaking whiz with numbers and can help the kids with math home work is a HUGE plus. I tease him that he is spoiled rotten by first his own Mother, and now me. He does not dispute this fact at all. He simply can't.

I know I'm spoiled by him. He does so many little hero things day in and out that the overall picture he's building will be pretty dang spectacular one day. Tonight, I made the comment to him that I knew we had a heating pad. I was in dire need of one. Then I looked at him and said...It's on your end of the couch, right? Back in our South Carolina house? Sadly, we both knew this to be true. Immediately, he offered to get dressed and go right then and buy me one. (See? Total hero qualities, Internets. Are you jealous yet?) I declined his offer as I knew he was tired and just needed to enjoy his television as The Boy was already in bed. (Really, though? They had been wrestling earlier and I'm thinking The Boy had worked his Daddy over but good.)

I was on a popular messenger talking with a friend (of the former mosquito post) and I mentioned to her my desire for a heating pad. And the reasons for wanting one. She, without hesitation, dug hers out and had that husband of hers out of the door and headed my way. To the rescue he came! Within a few minutes he was knocking on the door. Now THAT'S a good man. Of course I protested when she told me he was bringing it, but he was already gone!

He stayed and spoke a moment but headed back when she im'd me (laptops are wonderful inventions) to let me know the dog had gone crazy when he walked out. Into the dark he went to soothe that new puppy of his.

So spares are nice to have around, Internets.

And a spare hero?

Priceless.




*chile- meant to spell it that way even though spell check does not agree with me. Southern people tend to say this word from time to time, although I do believe it is a word on the endangered list.

A Pox Upon You

ARGH. We look like we have a pox of some kind. And it's all caused by mosquitoes. I kid you not.

For weeks we couldn't go outside because they would swarm you as soon as your blood hit the door way. We didn't care because it was too hot to go outside anyways and it was raining every single blessed day.

My neighbor and I sprayed our lawns for the pesky biters and were successful for a few days. We were overjoyed and dreamed of sitting outside in the evenings and watching the kids play away the rest of summer. The rains came back and washed it all away. Dreams crashed to the ground.

Then it got hot again. You'd walk outside and feel like you were breathing water the humidity was so high.

Dangit.

Now the humidity is gone and the weather is just gorgeous. A small breeze off of the inlet blows in and it's just perfect and ripe to enjoy.

Oh, just to enjoy a few minutes outside.

Last night some friends came over to hang out and let the kids play outside. Out came the tikki torches in a desperate attempt to ward off the blood suckers. The aroma of bug spray drifted in the breeze as young and old alike practically bathed in it. The neighbors started drifting over until it looked like a block party minus the food and grills. We smacked our bodies and those of the closest person in a mass effort to keep bites to a minimum. We braved it for a couple of hours because it just felt so good to be outside and the kids were bound to sleep good as they rode bikes and scooters round and round the cull de sac.

The skeeters finally won and we headed off inside.

Now, in the light of day, I cringe when my son backs up to me begging me to scratch his back. Boy looks like he's got a pox going on.

Just like my ankles.

Yep. I'm bout ready for a frost to come and kill 'em off for another season.

Done

I think I need a drink.

I finished the end.

I cried. I gasped out loud. I caused a lot of concern on Paige's part because she doesn't want to read if it's anything sad, but we all know she will.

I reread the ending three times to make sure I totally understand. I finally did.

I now am the owner of a HUGE hocking head ache because I didn't monitor my caffeine intake and got behind. That and I probably needed to wear my glasses. That are in the van.

The Man is good. He managed to buy TWO copies of this literary genius. Makenna was our slave this morning because she wanted that book BAD. Oh hush. We were just finally able to get her to do her chores and be done with them. She's a quarter of the way through and hasn't come up for air yet.

I personally believe that Miss Author did an amazing job tying it all together and I stand in awe of her magical writing abilities. There should be no book to follow this one. It's over.

What is Love?

What is love?

Love is being able to sit at home with the laptop in your lap with the television on while your husband is standing in line to get the new Harry book that is going to be released in merely minutes!!!!

Love is your hubby calling you to remind you just how much he loves you because he's been standing in line for over 30 minutes and there's nothing to do but stand there.

Love what you feel for your hubby when he tells you they've handed out wrist bands and he got a Gryffindor one which means he's in the first group to get a book and he totally knows the importance of Gryffindor and it's significance in life.

Love is knowing that he totally expects me to read all day tomorrow. To holler at the book. To probably cry. To smirk as other family members take their turn reading because I know something they don't know.


*GASP*

It's 12:01 a.m.

It's time to see the end.

New Friends

Just a quick note to let you know I've added me some new friends to my list. If you'll glance to the right, you'll see two new names added just now.

Get Off My Lawn is a new friend up from Canada way. He, too, is the parent of a little gal who is the same age as The Boy (or round about the same age). He has perfect articulation and I enjoy my visits to the Lawn. I ask him how's his Mama (because I am Southern and you must always ask about Mama) and have promised to tell him about grits and sweet tea. Take a gander if you are so inclined. He's right friendly. Just stay off his lawn. (Lawn? I did green text in your honor.)

I've also added Andria. And I really didn't ask her permission to do this. We are two kindred spirits in this world. She is the parent of three kids. Opposite of me, though. She has two boys and "SURPRISE!" ...just got herself one incredibly adorable Elizabeth. She is worked to the bone and under appreciated (LIKE ME!). Yet, she still manages to keep her sense of humor. She is worth visiting if you get the chance. One very smart lady there.

I have quite a few other blogs that I haunt on a daily basis. A lot of them I am brave enough to leave comments. It's almost like standing in front of the class to give an oral book report. You really want to be cool and funny. Most of the time, though, I fear I end sounding retarded. Yet, they pity we well and pat my head kindly and wait for me to do it again some other day. I believe all bloggers are a unique breed of writers. We all chew our nails and consider blogging. How hard can it be? Yeah, right. Then we set up an account and nervously put a few word with punctuation down. Delete. Start over. Delete. Start over. Finally you hit the post button and sweat starts pouring. You find out a month or two later you can actually go and delete that embarrassing first post but, by then, it's too late. You shrug and realize no one started school in the twelfth grade and you are entitled to stupid, boring, nonsense posts once in a while.

I do this blogging gig first and foremost for myself. I am horrible at hand writing a journal. I'd much prefer to type. I would call family members and friends when something funny would happen and I would always get..."Did you write that down? You should write that down!" So many good memories and stories lost because I didn't take pen to paper. This is my present to my kids one day. Something that is bound to humiliate them to no end, yet prove with each word I've written just how much I love them. The gravy part? Is that my friends and family and few lurkers who read but don't post a comment get to enjoy my life such as it is.

If you're thinking you might can do this blogging thang? Go ahead. I don't think any of us who started ever thought we'd really like it and actually continue doing it. And when you post retarded comments? We'll pat you on the head and wait for you to do it again and again til you perfect it!

And for Gawd's sake...please use the spell check button!!!!!!!

Why is this?

Can someone please tell me why band aids are an obsession with kids?

I can't keep a decent band aid in my house to save my life. I honestly believe Vitt and Mak can sniff them out no matter what. I can buy a box and sneak it in the house, hide it in the cabinet behind something and they STILL find that box and use in one day.

Vitt will wear one for all of five minutes before the glue irritates him and it's snatched off. THEN, you have to kiss the spot where the hair got ripped off because it hurt and there was no wound to begin with. But, because that particular area hurts, he can justify using more of them. He firmly believes this.

Makenna thinks that as soon as one teeny tiny drop of blood gets on the band aid, it's time to put on a fresh one. Lord help us if I buy a box of different sized ones. She then tries them on like shoes until she finds the perfect fit. Next thing you know? All of that size is gone. Of course, that's the size I will need when I get a paper cut.

Just now? I went to the fridge and guess what I found in the freezer? My newest box of bandages.

I guess they were hiding them from me. Game on. Let's see 'em find that box now!

Writing on the Wall

(Edited to add this: This was a post I did on Saturday afternoon. I didn't post it as I had already put one up that day. Fred was not happy when he got home and saw our son's artwork. Like I was? We were couch and recliner ridden all day long yesterday fighting a nasty full blown summer cold. We both agreed that we prefer to have a cold in COLD weather. Just seems to make more sense, dontcha think? Now the week has begun again and I'm sure all of you wait anxiously each day to see what else the Edge will have to endure as we raise this three year old of ours. Oh, and we've decided to pass on more scrubbing of the brown marker on the white wall. We're just gonna paint the sucker over.)




Ever have one of those days where you just feel blah? I'm having one of those days because my darling husband decided to share his summer cold with me. Forgive me if I feel like this is one thing he could have kept for himself. My nose is a broken faucet and I can't afford Benadryl because The Boy would totally take advantage of my being less than 100%. Fred and Paige are off cutting the grass of friends who are out of town on vacation, so no help from that angle.

Speaking of The Boy. Gawd, do I ever really speak of anything else sometimes?

I was doing a load of the never ending laundry. Five minutes, Internets. Five minutes is all I truly took. When I called his name...I heard silence. Not a good thing. I come around the corner from the kitchen into the dining room to find this:

Yes, this is what it appears to be. Marker. Brown marker. On a white wall. In public view. Want a closer look?

See how different the strokes are? And the precise little dots. Think he might have a chance at good handwriting later in life?

I confiscated the marker and proceeded to take a chapter from the MIL's handbook. When she was visiting last year, The Boy decided to write all over the floor. It was green and covered alot of acreage. She sat on that floor with him for FOREVER making his tiny two year old self scrub.

I'm totally using her picture without permission (so look quick before she calls me yelling and I have to take it down!!) but all I gotta say is that I hope I age well enough to be able to get down on the floor like she does. I completely backed her up on this mission. We sort of hoped it would teach Boy a lesson. We hoped in vain.

I was taking no prisoners this time. He was going to work the chain gang to pay for his crimes.

I made his butt scrub as long as I scrubbed. Not saying he made alot of progress with the cleaning part. And it was okay with him. For about five minutes. Then he told me..."This hard." I replied, "Well, it wasn't hard for you to mark it up so get busy!" He was NOT happy with me after a while.

Note the lips pursed in displeasure of having to STILL work and clean.

If I had a whip, I would have cracked it good right then.

The wall still isn't clean completely. When my arms felt like they were coming out of the socket, I decided to take a break. Maybe Dad will do some scrubbing to help out and I feel sure the Boy will be able to help then, too. I was dealing with it all pretty well, I thought. Then I came around the corner into the other side and what did I see? He decided to pour his juice out all over the coffee table so he could have some water playtime. Except it was juice. And sticky.

Yeah, he's on the couch fearing to move at the moment until further notice.

Rating the Edge

I did this for grins and giggles. Curiousity, if you will.

PG??????

Know why I got a PG rating?

Cuz they found the word "crack" two times.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Oh, wait....make that THREE times now!

Score!

I called my mother in law last night because since Fred is on a type of shore duty, I NEVER get to talk to her. And that's right criminal because I really love my mother in law. (the Internets *gasps* in shock) Seriously, she's the coolest lady to hang around with and we think alot alike. I ain't saying I agree with her doctoring grits up with all kinds of sugar and crap like that...but if I look away when she's doctorin', I can pretend she's eating them right. She introduced me to the world of cheese and for that, I will be eternally grateful.

I had a little ditty to share with her about her grandson (will share that in a later post). I then told her about going out to supper. She immediately asked, "Well? Did he share his lobster?" The woman is good. She knows her son well, even though he's been gone from home for near about 18 years. I informed her that Fred got the steak and fried lobster tail and he did, indeed, share a bite with me. I personally had the better of the two with my crab and LOBSTER stuffed grouper. (and yes, I did share with him!)Gawd, that was some amazing stuff. We ate at the prettiest place overlooking the marsh. It's built so close to the edge, you literally feel like the dining room is over the water. We were entertained watching the tide come in and a guesstimated six foot alligator riding the current slowing swishing his tail back and forth. There were promises of live piano music. She showed up as we were finishing our meal. Good thing, too, because she was just too loud and it would have made conversation hard.

Conversation. What on earth do married folks talk about when out alone? The kids. I firmly put a stop to that and informed my nicely dressed hubby that we had to talk about other things not related to the children. That lasted about five minutes before we swung back around to them. I finally sighed and said..."Let's go ahead and talk about them. At least they're not here to eavesdrop and offer their unsolicited opinions." So, we did. And it still turned out enjoyable.

Oh.....did I mention that my hubby came home from work with a bouquet of six roses? One for each year. Now he knows I'm not a flower kind of gal. I don't care much for flowers that are gonna die in a few days and end up wasting money. Yet, he also knows that I can be sucker for them if the occasion is right and the thought is sweet enough. These flowers totally qualified on both those counts. Too bad I left all my vases in S.C. (dangit, I can see in my mind's eye at least 3 of them on the top shelf of my pantry there!). Never fear! I called my neighbor who has anything you could possibly ever ask for and she came through for me. They are just perfect on my dining room table. Paige arranged them and even put the red and white bow that came with them on the vase itself. She is a Southern Belle in training.

We took the long way home. Which is a joke because the town is on the small side in places. We decided to drive down to the waterfront and just drive real slow and look. To me, that's the nicest thing in the world to do. We took an alternate route back to the main road and discovered houses beyond our wildest dreams! I had no idea our town hid such beauties and that obviously so many people who live here are friggin rich to own such things. I can't wait to show them to my Mama. She enjoys a good drive and look-see as good as I do.

Have I said how nice it is to have a reliable babysitter so we can do stuff like this occasionally? I'm not stupid. Paige loves her brother with all her heart and soul. She knows how...uh...spirited he can be. Yet, she still loves him and cares for him so well. She loves her Mak, too, but this baby is pretty much hers. All I had to do was gestate and hand him over is how I feel sometimes. Peace of mind over your sitter is a wonderful thing to have, Internets.

Made this anniversary successful and one of the best ones yet.

Six Years?? Wow.

I got me a date tonight, Internets. At a restaurant that takes reservations. Yeah, that's right. High dollar dining for Miss Hope at 6:30 p.m. this evening. And all of this romantic goodness? My husband's idea. I might just shave my legs for an occasion such as this.

Because today is the sixth anniversary of our meeting face to face. Ack...this means a small explanation. We met online before meeting online was cool. May 27, I do believe it was. Now for those who knew me then, quit counting on your fingers right this minute. I know that's when I was getting a divorce. BUT..and I stress BUT...I had already been to my lawyer for a consult and had put down a retainer fee because I was SO out of that relationship before I even knew The Man existed. I may not have been quite free legally to go about my business, but that mess was over and done with. I prolly should have waited longer, but when a present such as this is put in your lap? You don't argue, you open that sucker up and enjoy the mess out of it.

Shortening the story a tad. Fred was stationed in Pearl Harbor while I was living in S.C. He im'd me one night as he was PCS'ing* to Charleston in the next month. We struck up a conversation and, well, just talked. Alot. Next thing I knew, we were fighting a six hour time difference just to have a talk every day. He left Hawaii to spend a few weeks with his family before heading on to S.C.

He arrived July 11 and we thought about meeting around July 14th or 15th. We decided we couldn't wait. I juggled and smuggled and did what I could to make a meeting happen on Friday, July 13. And it did. We met. Face to face.

Then I reckon we did the next best thing.

We proceeded to live happily ever after.

Happy Anniversary, Honey. It's been an interesting six years and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Oh, and did I mention that I love you?



*PCS'ing. PCS stands for permanent change of station. Which is kind of stupid to me because no station is permanent, but that's the military for you.

And when I made mention last night about blogging about this, Paige called Fred "Mr. Sappy Comment Poster Man".

Some Miss Hope personal trivia. I was born on the 13th. I am the 13th grandchild on my mother's side. If there had been a 13th month and year available, I feel positive I would have had those, too.

Thursday Thoughts

Have you seen the Lexus commercial where the car parallel parks itself? I'm still calling bullcrap on that. I won't believe it until I personally sit in the driver's seat and let that bad boy go to work. Let's just say it IS true. Go with me here. Last night Fred and I were watching television and I posed this question to him, and now you.

If the car can parallel park itself, then if you own one, can you take it for your driver's license test? Everyone who has taken the test knows that is the worst part of the whole thing and most of us *ahem* will never parallel park again in their lives after barely passing that part. So, if you own this lovely vehicle that can take the worry from your hands...LITERALLY....do you think it should be allowed in the driver's license test? (I'm really thinking of teens taking the driver's test because if an adult owns a car like this and needs to take the test over? Go ahead and take their license and give it to the car.)


My husband is a good man. He truly is. When he decided I was the one, he gave up alot of fun bachelor things in his life. He quit buying every single movie that came out on DVD. He slowed up on the golf . Well, he isn't really supposed to play golf right now due to his recuperating knee, but before that, he had cut back tremendously. So many things he gave up to be with us. He honestly didn't seem to mind at all. I worried and fretted that he would miss all that financial freedom, but he appears to be truly okay with it. There's just one thing he won't share. Lobster. We go out to eat and he orders any type of lobster? I'm lucky if I get a tiny bite to taste. He's right stingy with it. Hey now, I'm just being honest here.

Last night my neighbor had made some dark chocolate with white chocolate chip cookies. She brought a few over for me to taste test for her. I'm all about some taste testing when it comes to chocolate. Fred and I kept passing the bag back and forth until we got to the last one. I looked at it and said to him,

"I'll share this last one with you."

Then I broke it in half and held his part out to him...barely out of reach.

"I love chocolate. You know I love chocolate, yet I am prepared to sacrifice and give you HALF of my cookie because I love you. I adore you. I am prepared to show my undying love for you by sharing this cookie with you."

He continued to reach for the cookie, but I was not yet finished.

"I guess I'll see just how much you love me the next time you order lobster. Because I have a feeling you won't share. But, I love you and am more than willing to share my cookie."

He went the extra inch and got the cookie then.

Bless that man's heart being married to the Queen of Drama.

Two for Wednesday Deal

Are you tired of the Vitt stories yet? I know I am. What I would give for a day free of drama around the Edge.

Earlier, I was enjoying my second cup of coffee and was settling in to read my long list of favorite blogs. Diego was on the television and I knew that would buy me at least 20 minutes of internet reading pleasure. I didn't realize Vitt wasn't behind me watching his hero.

Makenna comes around the corner all slow and nonchalant.

"Mama? You're letting Vitt take a shower by himself?"

"Uh....NO!"

I went running to my bathroom. What did I find?

My son in the shower. I immediately checked the water temp and it was perfect. He had gotten his very own personal tear free shampoo and was expertly lathering up his hair.

When he saw me, he said, "I take a sower." (we've not mastered the SH sound yet.)

I was just speechless. Literally.

What could I do?

What any smart mother would do, of course. I went ahead and got in with him so I could get my shower for the day out of the way.

Of course, I tried to talk with him about how we don't take showers without Mama or Dad helping out. Somehow, I don't think he was listening.

The Edge is on the Edge

Yesterday was a frustrating day in the life of raising kids. Anyone who is a parent knows that occasionally those days come along. You acknowledge that whilst you buckle up real tight to ride the storm out.

The Boy was just full of...well, I don't know what he was full of yesterday but it almost cost him some precious butt skin. Hard headed and stubborn were the massive understatements of the day. Lately, he's gotten into this nasty habit of throwing things when angry, sad, happy, or simply because he has something in his hand. This is not a good thing to do around Dad's new television. At all. Suffice it to say, throwing in the house has been strongly discouraged.

I'm going to stop here a minute and say this. I'm on my third child here. I've kept children in my home for 12 years until my semi-retirement last year. I may not always know what I'm doing, but I do know what works by now. In the past couple of days, I've come to a sad realization. Talking and popping the leg just doesn't work for that son of mine. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I went to my bedroom and got Dad's belt off the hook. Oh quit puffing up already out there those of you who don't believe in corporal punishment and all that rot. Did I say I held him down while putting whelps across his sweet little back? Let me finish before you go calling Child Protective Services on Miss Hope. If you own a lovely man's dress belt, you have access to a serious listening tool. You can snap that thing to make a very loud impressive noise, guaranteed to catch the attention of every child in a half mile radius. Then? When it's time to let that piece of leather talk trash? You use all of 6-10 inches to pop the leg. I promise it will make your life way easier in the long run. I will tell you this, Internets. I am NOT going to have a 16 year old boy who, I know, will be taller than his mother's 5'6" self, look down at me and proceed to tell ME what HE's going to do. Oh, no. I'm going to nip that mess in the bud right now and make sure he knows that Mama may be slow, but she's still The Boss of him until she takes her last breath.

Now that we have that out of the way, we can continue with the story.

Vitt decided that the matchbox car in his hand would look better hitting Mak in the face. Around the nose area to be exact. Yeah, wincing and saying ouch would be totally appropriate right about now. Not to mention he was supposed be laying down on his pillow and Spiderm*n blanket for his afternoon relax time. (Read that to say we girls needed a small break before taking on the evening shift.) What could I do? I could grab that belt, that's what I could do. So, I might have added an extra inch or two when he got popped. Two pops later he was under the blanket and not daring to move. He never took a nap, but his fear of getting up gave us all a small break we surely took advantage of.

Fast forward to supper time. It's been a long day for that Boy and we had long since tied a knot in the end our ropes when it came to him. The final straw came when he started acting all froot loop in his chair. Jumping around and flailing his arms. Then he knocked Mak's plate of spaghetti into her lap. (Poor thing, she really caught crap from him yesterday.) I put my face in my hands and said, "Put him to bed right now. Right this minute. I do NOT want to see his face again until tomorrow morning." Dad put him to bed and within 15 minutes, he was down for the count. Peace reigned throughout our home.

This whole incident took me and Paige down memory lane. She reminded me of a time back when she was around 7 or 8. It was just Paige, Mak, and myself making it in this world. Fred and I were dating, but I was on my own. She had frustrated me (don't ask me over what) and I finally sent her to her room around 4 or 5 p.m. with the sentence of "Do NOT let me see your face until tomorrow". This was fine and dandy. For about 30-45 minutes. Then my child comes around the corner with a bag on her head. She was bored in her room and tomorrow wasn't coming fast enough. In her brilliant mind, she decided a bag over the head would prevent me from "seeing her face" and all would be well. I just remember laughing my butt off when I finally realized what she was doing.

For all of you out there who have smaller kids? Don't feel bad when every cell of coolness you own is lost in the face of a child under the age of 10. It happens to all of us. Accept the fact that this spawn came from 50% of your very own personal DNA. You do know what that means, right?

You can breathe easy and light because you can always blame the bad 50% on the other parent. When both parents think this way, everyone feels better.

All of this I'm dealing with? Totally came from Fred. My mother-in-law should back me up on this. Why not? I DID give birth to her first grandson.

Things Kids Say

Each night when I go to bed, I have visions of being able to sleep in a little bit the next morning. Well, school is out and since I don't have to get up at the butt crack of dawn to get the girls ready and going, I don't feel like I'm asking too much. Do you?

This morning proved to me that it just doesn't work when I have such lovely visions.

7:34 a.m.

Vitt: Mama? Mama? MAMA?

Hope: What Son?

Vitt: SUN'S UP!

Need I say more?


Yesterday was a treat, too. Fred, Paige, and myself were sitting at the table after finishing a lovely Sunday dinner. We were just chatting when the subject of exercising came up. Fred said he and Paige were going to start going to the gym because he needs to get fit a little more than he is. I made some comment, I think, about exercising his butt off and Paige did her "PFT" noise and said,

"He don't need to exercise his butt off because all he's got is a back with a crack in it."

Yeah, it's comedy central around the Edge.

Busy

We finally decided to go to S.C. for the fourth. Tuesday morning found us packing it up and heading up north a ways. We made sure we left in order to arrive in S.C. before 5 p.m. because I wanted to turn that blasted license plate in to their DMV before closing time. Fred was gracious enough to take it inside where there were no problems and he did, indeed, get a receipt saying we no longer are renting a license plate from their lovely state. I say rent because if we owned the durn thing, then there would have been no conflict now would there?

I called my brother when we were less than an hour out and asked if he would go over to our house and turn the air conditioner on. When we got home, we walked in to a mess. My Dad was inspecting my kitchen floor because THERE WAS HUGE GAPING HOLE IN IT. Yeah. Apparently the tubing out of the ice maker had become dislodged from the back of the fridge and it was continuously pouring water and that lovely water saturated the wood to make it weak. My fridge and dishwasher were in great danger of being damaged. Great.

It was decided right then that the hole would be replaced before sundown. This is where I get tickled. My husband is a Chief. My brother is a supervisor at his work. My Dad has been in charge at his job for the past...oh, I don't know....25 years? There were no peons to do their bidding. No others for them to order around. Vitt and Cayden are far too young and little to be of any help. When I brought this to every one's attention, my father immediately said..."Well, I am the Master Chief." The highest ranking enlisted around. Guess that meant my husband and brother had no choice but to follow the man with the most experience. That, and my Dad has ALL the nice power tools that he might let them play with.

A few hours later my husband came next door to fetch me from visiting my Grandmother so I could clean up the mess left behind. Yay. They had pulled out the fridge, dishwasher, and stove. Yuck. It gets so nasty behind appliances because it's not something you clean every week. Well, I don't. I was wiping down walls and we were spraying bleach to prevent mold from taking root. It just wasn't what I planned to do with my visit home, Internets. We even got up the next morning to finish scrubbing the floor. Reckoned I may as well get a good clean going on while I was at it.

After all of that, we had a marvelous fourth. We got to see amazing fireworks. My son ran wild and free and stayed dirty as he could. He finally got brave enough to swing from the rope and piece of board my Dad put on the oak tree out back. Almost gave me a heart attack to watch him, but it was okay somewhat when you would hear him holler, "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"

My brother was insistent that we go to the river to ride the innertube the next day. ~sigh~ Put it this way, we were so tired when we got home, we couldn't hardly function. We wanted to drive home Thursday night but it just wasn't happening. I rode in the boat to be a spotter and got some amazing pictures with my mom's camera. I will stay on her to send them so I can do some Show and Tell. I'll post more on the tube riding when I get them.

You know I took a picture of the kitchen. I whipped that handy dandy camera phone out and snapped one just for you, Internets! It's an after picture because with my Dad barking orders? I just got out of there before he thought he was going to tell me to crawl under a house or something equally stupid like that. Hope don't do dirty dark places. That hole would have stayed right there. What you are going to see is, from left to right, my stove, dishwasher, and fridge. The light colored wood is the area that had to be replaced. The white outline is duct tape my Dad provided for us to cover up seams and seal cracks. We did not replace the flooring because all of it in the kitchen would have to come up and I see that happening another time in the future. As long as the problem was fixed, the cosmetic stuff can wait. We are the only ones who stay there and I'm all about a cute rug to cover up until further notice. Good thing we decided to go, huh? Imagine the mess if we hadn't. No one goes over there much and we would have lost some good appliances.

Sometimes being a homeowner ain't all it's cracked up to be.

Fortune Telling

I forgot to post about this last week. So, let me get it done before I truly forget all about it. And it's too good to forget.

Fred, Vitt, Mak, and myself went to eat at a Japanese steak house last week. We wanted to do something special with the two of them since Paige was off doing her own special thing. It's a cool place that keeps Vitt totally enthralled with the "cooking in your face" deal. He is every Japanese chef's dream customer. He claps and yells and begs for them to "DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!"

We always look forward to getting our fortune cookies at the end of the meal. Mine was so so and Makenna's wasn't all that snazzy either.

Then we read Fred and Vitt's. Fred's was kind of cool and I thought worth posting. It reads: This year your highest priority will be your family. How nice is that? Now, I've saved these tiny scraps of paper and will now be forwarding Fred's to his Commanding Officer so homey will know that the family comes first this year. NOT the Navy. Yeah, I don't think it'll go over that well, either.

Are you ready for Vitt's fortune? I almost had a heart attack when I read it. I immediately wanted to shred it, eat it, just DESTROY it. Then I remembered you, Internets, and knew I had to save it to share with you.

It says:

Now is the time to set your sights high and go for it.

See where the chest pains come in now? I can imagine at least 50 different scenarios that this can apply to and none of them lets us off with less than a visit to our local E.R.

Anyone out there know how to counteract a fortune?

Edge Happenings....

The Edge is all about relaxin' today. The Man is on leave this week and enjoying himself nicely in his recliner with his laptop on his lap. The Boy is never far from his Dad because it's a treat to have him around during morning hours. The girls are sleeping in because they can. Fine with me. I can cruise the net to my heart's content and drink my morning gallon of coffee.

It's official. We've been here for a solid full year. I honestly didn't know if I'd be able to do this or not. Seriously? I thought I'd tough it out for a while and figure out this wasn't for me and haul my kids and stuff back to South Carolina. Didn't happen. We wiggled our butts right on in and made ourselves at home. So much so for Paige, she's begging to live here until she graduates high school. I don't know about all that now. It's a wait and see kind of deal at the moment. Fred might can swing it with doing a shore duty after a sea tour....but the Navy likes to keep you on your toes and on nerve pills. They're cool like that.

So, there's alot of thinking going on about that particular situation. We just knew when we moved that Paige would either love it or hate it. She's not a half way kind of gal. She loves it here. Makenna still makes noises about going back to S.C. She has fun here and has made friends, but Nana and Papa aren't nearby and she's been missing them more than I ever thought she would. Nana keeps her supplied with snacks and Papa is her t.v. watching buddy. They sit in side by side recliners and enjoy the big screen goodness in his living room.

We've hemmed and hawed about what to do about the fourth of July and how to spend this whole week of family togetherness. I want to stay here in Jawja for the festival downtown, but I want to see my folks, too. My brother has called me twice! (hold on whilst I recover from the shock of it...) He's on vacation this week until Friday and wants us to go home so he can show off his new boat and Big Butt Innertube. How can I turn that down? So, we've decided to go to S.C. Tues.-Thurs. of this week. I guess. Probably. Argh. Freedom of choice is a hard thing to handle sometimes. When having an impromptu family meeting at the dinner table yesterday, all voted in favor of going to S.C. and doing some 'tubing. All minor voters, that is. That's all I need. To see my kids bouncing down the river in a huge innertube just asking for a bodily injury.

For those of you who ask..."How can you say you'll be gone? Isn't that asking for someone to come break into your home?" Uh...well....I look at it this way. My kids upstairs will know we're not around and since he's a Master at Arms, he's got connections to have Shore Patrol here in a blink. The Marine on the other side? Well, they're just flat out crazy anyway and he would just LOVE a chance to legally use some of the stuff he's learned since boot camp. So, knock yourself out! Just don't try to mapquest me. The military doesn't give out specifics on military installations. They're kind of funny bout stuff like that.

Paige is still going to post something on her camp experiences. We keep getting snippets here and there. I'm kind of scared to get her film developed!

In case I'm not around, everyone out there please have an Edgy Fourth and keep it safe and legal.


p.s. We're gonna be dorky no matter where we end up because Fred, Vitt, and Makenna have matching tshirts to wear. Paige has her own cool version of that shirt. Me? Never one to follow nicely. I got me a nice red shirt with white stars all over it! Yeah....