Squirrels and Armadillos???

I just have to comment on this. In fact, I think I comment on this daily around the house. Everyone is about tired of hearing it here.

When we moved to Georgia, I really didn't think it would be that much different from S.C. I mean, the South is pretty much the South when you stay below North Carolina. You can't buy alcohol on Sundays and in small towns, the streets roll up at dusk.

After living in the T.V.Q.* for five days, we had a home. In the military, you have to attend a briefing before the keys are handed over. A briefing? Like in Top Gun? In a secret room? Pretty much. You're given a folder full of rules and regulations that make your eyes glaze over. And it's not so bad. Anything breaks or seems funny....call the housing office. They're usually pretty durn good about sending someone over right away to take care of the problem. I could get used to this. Our lady "briefer" (is that a word) was very matter of fact and kind of dry. She has since become my friend because I'm her "Old Newbie". That just means that I'm an old lady who knows nothing but am not afraid to call or go by and ask questions. Not to mention she and I have WAY more in common than the 18 year olds that flit in and out.

Anyway, Patty (said briefer) gave us the lowdown on the local wildlife. We are located in an inlet area. There are snakes. Uh, okay. There are alligators. Uh, okay. There are armadillos. Uh, okay. Wait a minute....there's WHAT????? I actually stopped the briefing at this point to make sure I had heard correctly. Excuse me, please. I thought such an animal was located in places like TEXAS? I seriously did not believe her. I thought she was pulling our legs. And to the point I actually wanted her to go get one right then and show me!

Well, folks, they're here. And they're ugly. And like a possum, they become road kill quite a bit. This is what messed with me the most.

Last week I went to pick Makenna up from school. As I sat in the long line and waited for the teachers to get their act together, I watched the students start coming out of the school. In the little grassy area, there was an armadillo. I sat up straight in my van and looked closer. I promise you.....that sucker was rambling around like he was a squirrel!! I expected him to scamper up a tree with nuts in his mouth any minute! And the kids walked around him and didn't pay one bit of attention. The horn blowing behind me reminded me to move up in line.

I am still in shock. Armadillos? In Georgia????

* I am becoming better and better at talking acronyms. Because that is how the military talks, you know.....in letters. T.V.Q.- transient visitor's quarters. Broken down for us civilians? A hotel on base for active duty. Very nice. Clean. and a room for you for the low price of $22.00 a night.

Mission Accomplished....I Think.....

I'm here. I'm still alive. I might question that at times.....

We've moved. We're in Georgia. I believe I'm still in a state of shock that I actually went through with it. Even when I pulled out of the yard in South Carolina behind my husband driving a U-Haul...it was surreal. My family stood in the yard waving. I tooted the horn and off we went. I think around 100 miles later I was thinking......I AM CRAZY. THAT WAS MY MAMA I LEFT BEHIND. THIS IS ALL I OWN EXCEPT WINTER CLOTHES IN FRONT OF ME ON THE INTERSTATE. I kind of had a nervous breakdown en route. Well, you would too if your husband called you on your cell and informed you that there was no house available on base and you might have to live out of a hotel room....for 14 days...with three kids.....and a U-Haul in the parking lot. I told him to turn that buggy around and head it back home. And he didn't. I had to follow him...he had my stuff...and Makenna. That kid digs riding shotgun.

It was a helluva month. There's no nice way to put it. I've got so many stories that I've called my Mama to share. I intend on sharing with you folks, too.

We've been through raging viruses...flu-like sickness.....and have come through to the other side. I am now able to appreciate alot of things around me. Like trash pick up.....garbage disposals.......DSL...OMG...why didn't ya'll tell me how sweet that is? I am getting spoiled to the point I may never be able to live in the country again. Boy, will that piss my Dad off.

I've learned that I am old enough to be the mother of alot of my neighbors. The sweet couple above us? Ages 18 and 19. How nice. Remind me to tell you about how their bedroom is above Paige's room. Oh yeah. She could really entertain you with that one.

Went to the clinic the other day with Fred (another story for another time) and I noticed some young fellows checking in at our base. Fred noticed the look on my face and asked what?? I said...someone needs to feed them!!! They looked like they had 15 inch waists and the pants were STILL falling off of them. What on earth were they doing? They needed to be in the bathroom putting clearasil on while eating cake. Seriously.

Let me get my stories straight so as to entertain you.

While I do that...please tell me how to get Sharpie marker off of the wall. (Thank you, Son).

Where do I start?.......Palm trees? the social life of a tween? fire ants? Armadillos?............

More than this Ol' Girl Can Handle

Folks, I may just lose my entire mind.

We're moving next week. NEXT FREAKING WEEK. Last thing I knew...we were considering moving and had 6 months to get prepared.

I don't think I've ever in my entire life agonized over something like this. I had a premature baby in NICU for a month and didn't agonize like this. The doctors made the decisions in there. I, in my immature wisdom, didn't know any better so I let them. Which was not a bad thing, mind you.

I had mastered the art of being an ostrich. I've completely buried my head in the sand and refuse to come up and realize exactly what I am getting ready to do. I'm leaving every thing I know. Everyone I know. I am a Taurus. We despise change. We thrive on routine. I have a pretty good one going here. My anxiety level is rising and in return, so are the kids.

I am going against every parenting skill I've ever learned by letting my two year old keep his pacifier when he sleeps at night. I keep thinking that I'm getting ready to traumatize him and it just wouldn't be kind to take his one security from him right now. We'll do it in a few weeks when things calm down.

The one realization that I have come to is this: If we don't go and be together as a family, then that will put my husband and I living apart for 4 years. Then when he comes back.....I might not want him in "my" house. We might need to get accustomed to each other while the gettin' is good.

My life friend from second grade is having a nervous breakdown. She won't even discuss moving or packing anything related with me when we talk. BUT, she's taking off two days next week to come stay with me and help me get the house straight. ~snort~

So, I shall be busy for the next week or so. Internet access is first on the list due to my job. I think as long as I have the coffee maker hooked up and the computer, I might just make it. Oh, and the cell phone charged.

Wish us luck on this new adventure we're getting ready to take. A prayer or two would be more than welcome, too!!!!!

You Decide...Stolen Property? ....or not?

I hate dealing with cell phone companies. I love my cell phone and the liberties that it provides, but I lose more enamel with some serious teeth grinding when something goes wrong.

Fred, Paige, and I had the same phone. Was a nice phone. Took pictures and all. Fred and Paige's started to literally fall apart. Fred and I took them in and got an upgrade on ours. I passed mine on to Paige. Now it's fallen apart. You want to talk about a sky high level of anxiety???? That sister is falling apart without that phone, man.

I find out that I can not upgrade hers because it is a secondary line. I look into the VERY young face of the guy telling me this and I say: "Fine. Then cut it off and waive the drop fee. I will not pay a monthly bill for a phone that I can not use and is obviously defective." I love the expressions sales people get when I climb on that high horse I keep in the back stable. I did take a tiny bit of pity on him and said..."Can we borrow a battery so she can at least get phone numbers?" The bottem had fallen out of the phone so the charger wouldn't work. He led me to the tech support desk. He went in back and brought a battery around. As he went to walk off, I asked what to do with the battery when I was finished? He said just hand it to the tech support guy. Cool.

That sister had almost 150 phone numbers in that phone!!!!!!!!!!! There's no way she knows that many people!!!!!! I started writing them down and got tired real fast of that crap.

I got the frustrated look and said...we're leaving. I'm not doing this. Paige is starting to freak...she NEEDS those numbers. I do the battery thing and hand one back to the tech guy. I turn and walk out of the door with one very upset tween and one clueless seven year old following behind me.

That chick grumbled the whole way to the van. When we got in and started to drive off...I said...."Paige turn your phone on." "BUT MOM...IT'S NOT CHARGED....IT WON'T!" I calmly told her to turn it on. It came on.

So, yeah, I kept the charged battery and gave them the dead one. It wasn't hurt. Just dead. I didn't have 30 minutes to sit and write phone numbers down.

Paige didn't know if I was cool or a thief.

I say no harm done. It was taken out of a bin of batteries and we needed the extra minutes to get the numbers down. The battery they got was perfectly fine.

Makenna kept looking to see if the law was coming to get me.

So. You decide. Am I a thief?

Sisterly Love

Remember that Paige's door is broken? That sister can rig something up if given enough time. She can close the door...sort of. She's gotten stuck in her room a couple of times and Houdini'd herself out somehow.

Tonight Makenna has to ask Paige something. She approaches the Door.

"Sissy, I need to ask you something"

"GO AWAY. GET AWAY. I'M ON THE PHONE. YOU'RE SO RUDE!!!!!! GO AWAY NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM"

"Sissy, I need my earrings, please"

"GO AWAY NOW!!!!!!!! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY?????? MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM"

Makenna turns away in disgust and heads to the other end of the house. As she passes by me, I hear her mutter this:

"If I was a bear, I would so gnaw her."

Would You Care for Seconds?

I tell my son a thousand times a day to keep things out of his mouth. Sometimes you just get tired of saying the same thing over and over again. Yesterday he got hold of Paige's "Passion Flower" deodorant. Oh, yes, he did. I told him THREE times to put it down...DO NOT put that in your mouth, Son!!! What did he do? He smirked and proceeded to take a huge whopping bite out of it.

What did he do then?

He started hacking and gagging and spitting for all his worth. He frantically ran to the dishwasher, pulled the lid down, climbed on it, pulled the top rack out and started throwing cups over his shoulder in search for a sippy cup. By this time I am laughing so hard I can't hardly help him. I finally catch my breath long enough to fix him some juice.

Every time he took a sip, he'd lean over and spit better than any old man whose chewed tobacco for 30 years. Obviously the juice wasn't killing that passion flower taste. He continued to hack and gag for a good five minutes.

I continued to laugh until I just about peed my pants. Okay..so I did pee them just a tad. Man, was that funny.

Now, if you offer him the Passion Flower, he very firmly puts his hand up and shakes his head very matter of fact.

If only it were this easy to learn life's lessons.

Un-Married

If there is one thing that I have learned from the U.S. Navy is how to be unmarried. I have been married for 32 months and of the 32 months, my husband and I have lived together (and that is loosely defined) approximately 10 months of the 32 months. The past 16 months have put at least 330 plus miles between us most of the time. I have done holidays, birthdays, mother's day, father's day, and anniversaries all on my own. Of course the kids have been with me.

I have also learned how to defrost an ice maker. When to take the van in for maintenance. How often to balance and rotate the tires. How to balance my checkbook. How to dress four people to get to a function or church. I may be late sometimes, but I give myself a curve of sorts.

I've attended parent teacher conferences on my own. I've attended school functions and Award's Days. I've done a ballet recital that had 3 costume changes. I even remembered to bring the camera and snap a few pictures. Now my Sis in Law or mother may have gone to these functions with me, (niece was in recital, too), yet I've no backup if I've been sick.

Speaking of sick. I had walking pneumonia at the first of the year followed by two months of bronchitis and sickness. I did break down and beg my husband to come home and help me because I was seriously close to being hospitalized with all that mess. Of course he didn't come home. The Navy kinda frowns on you taking time to care for sick family. Now my husband says in his defense that by the time I got to the doctor was I getting past the pneumonia and upgraded to bronchitis. I say when I was begging him to come home...I was in the very very very sick phase of things. Always two sides to a story, huh?

I've attended gatherings alone where I had to smile and say that my husband was working when inside I was feeling like the backwards fat cousin in the corner waiting to be seen and praying that I wouldn't be.

I've had my hopes dashed rather rudely into the ground when my husband has called to say that he can't come home due to some higher up having a corn cob stuck up his butt. I've called that submarine many times to just chat with my husband about simple family issues that most people take for granted. That is, when they have shore power up and running. We've burned more cell phone minutes than a 15 year old with her first boyfriend.

I do complain but all in all I have learned how to be even more independent in this life of mine. And that's a good thing, I suppose. I'm not afraid to take care of my self or my children. There's no price you can put on that kind of knowledge or experience.

So the one thing that the United States Navy has taught me most of all? How to be on someone's Page 2, I think it's called, and have the military insurance. But most of all....how to be un-married. ....while still legally being married. Confusing life we military wives lead. Funny, I really don't feel like one.

Remind me to send the head of the USN a card, would you? I'm just not sure what kind as of yet.


**Some people will take this post the wrong way...as some people may be prone to do. And that's okay. No, I did not know what I was getting into when I married this man. I love him. That's the most important thing to me. I'm very proud of him and believe that he's a special person to do what he does. It's not him I have the problem with...it's his employer.**

I Think This Qualifies as an "Uh-Oh"

Um, I think I've made a mistake.

I love coffee. I crave coffee. That's the first thing I do in the morning when I wake up. I go straight to the coffee pot to get it going as I start getting the kids dressed. I will literally almost pee my drawers to get that pot going. I kid you not.

I pick up a pack of the disposable coffee cups everytime I go to the grocery store. My van is littered with them. I never walk into a meeting without a cup of joe in my hands. When we do a business breakfast, the waitress automatically brings me a cup when I walk in the door and keeps it filled. I am now on my third (and final) cup of the day.

I love creamer. French Vanilla. If I could buy it in a five gallon bucket, I would. I am good, though. I get the sugar free or fat free...never the real deal unless I'm desperate. I also use equal or splenda. I'm not in it for the calories....just the taste and the caffeine. Oh, the caffeine.

You could say coffee is my drug of choice.

Now, let's get to Vitt. My beautiful bad 2 year old. Vitt thinks that every cup is fair game to him. No one is safe when he's thirsty. He touched my cup one day and snatched it back saying "Hot! HOT, Mama!" Good boy. One day he touched the cup and well, it wasn't hot. So Big Boy decided to try it out.

And a monster was born.

I have to guard my cup now. If he can get to it, he will start gulping it down like he's never had anything to drink in his life. That look of ecstasy comes over his features and he does this sweet little "ummmmmmmmm" when he comes up for air.

I don't think so. This is MY addiction. I will not have a 2 year old addicted to coffee. And, no, I'm not buying decaff. Please. This is MY weakness and habit. I need it. I love it. And I'm not giving it up! EVAH.

I'm in the process of designing and making a sling of sorts to keep my cup on my person at all times so he can't get his hands on it. American Inventor watch out. Here I come.

Oh, and as we are setting up our office, I voted we get a coffee maker before we even get the furniture.

This is What Happens

What happens when you are twelve years old and you have the weight of the world on your shoulders?
When everything that everyone does just pisses you off to no end?
When you believe that God made you the only intelligent life form on this earth?
When no one understands the black hole that is your mind?
When no one understands that there is NO GREY!!!! It is all black and white!!!!!
When you have to hate the very air that your mother breathes?
When there is no solution but to dramatically turn and walk to your room and slam the door to drive your point home?
Over...and over....and over......and over.....and over(to infinity) again?

Your door falls off the hinges. That's what happens.


I am so not gonna get it fixed.

Tip for Women

Fart. You know, there's nothing nice about that word. It doesn't look pretty or even sound pretty...and GOD KNOWS it don't smell purtty.

I have discovered something though in my now 35 years. Yeah, I had a birthday last weekend. That means I've been blogging a whole year. Go figure. Never thought I'd make it this far.

Anyway...what I have discovered. By the way...this is for women only. Because we know men just don't care.

I have discovered that if you are shopping in one of those humongous supercenters and you really gotta fart so bad you break into a cold sweat........go to the lawn and garden section. Man, that place smells so bad no one will ever know.

Trust me.

Males and Magnets

We all know something about magnets. I won't get into the scientific aspect of it, but I will bring back to mind an old saying or two. Remember "Opposites attract." or " Polar opposites"?

Men believe that they have magnetic personalities. Some are sadly disillusioned that they can just draw women in. Come on girls, we've all experienced a few like this.

Well, I'm going to go a different route with men and magnets.

I personally believe that ALL males are born with dirt magnets under their skin. Especially the face, hands, and feet. I can dress my son for church and sit him down in front of the television while the girls finish and I promise you, he will have a dirt smudge somewhere on his person before we get to the church. And it's not in my house, that's for sure. I have no idea how he does it.

And men. Grown men. How is it I can cut the grass and do yard work and barely have a speck of dirt on my person when I'm done, yet my husband looks like he's been farming? In black dirt? I just don't understand how a man can wear a uniform and come home with grease all over it. Especially when he has a particular uniform to wear when he's in the engine room working. I've given up asking him where he and boys are playing on the way home from work.

Just to point out here. My husband is gone a majority of the time and therefore has to do his own laundry. It could be that he just doesn't care to treat stains like the fanatic that I am, so by the time he gets home, the stains are set for life. Who knows.

I just know it's not only my husband and son. I've talked with friends and they have the same exact problems. We are perplexed and want to have certain tests run to confirm the "dirt magnet" theory.

I guess as long as I have spit, I'll be able to clean Vitt up. At least until he gets totally grossed out when I do it and runs away.

Be Good to Yourself

Because I sure have been. Seriously. I've shocked myself and then shocked myself even more!

First off, let me start by telling you that I don't worry about me. I worry about my kids and my husband. I want them to be provided for. My girlfriends can testify to this. When we (the girlfriends and I) go shopping, I buy for my kids and husband before I even look for my own self. Paige is always my ultimate mission. She is hard to dress so I am constantly looking for the cute stuff that will make her feel like a million bucks and totally fit in with her "Prissy Posse". Makenna is my fashion model. She can wear anything and I indulge with the cutest latest fashions that are reasonable. And Vitt? I have enjoyed buying for a little boy so much, that I simply can't help myself when I come across something that I just KNOW will look adorable on him. And needless to say, my husband doesn't lack for a decent choice in clothes. I love dressing a man and do it very well.

Well, to heck with them all!!! The past week has been devoted to Mama! And I'll tell you why..........

My husband is out to sea. Not giving away any classified information because I have no idea where he is. I'm almost certain that it's the Atlantic since we're located on the East coast...but that's all I would venture to guess. He will be coming back in around May 8th for a day or two and heading back out. Guess what? My birthday is May 13th and Mother's Day is May 14th. Sucks a big one, huh? So, instead of getting depressed....I went shopping.

For a while now, I've been secretly coveting the novelty of teeth whitening. Dang you Extreme Makeover!!!! I will watch an hour long documentary on that mess just to the see the before and after pictures. And loving coffee the way I do? Yeah, the good stuff is telling on my teeth. I have an appointment on May 8th to get my bonding replaced. It's located on my two front teeth and I got it when I was 17. Reason being is because I was on so many antibiotics as a child, my teeth were badly discolored and I was robbing the world of my beautiful smile!!!! My mother worked and saved and voila! I was a new girl. I've kept it up since and because the last time I got it replaced was in 2000 and it's only supposed to last around 3 years...it's time to replace. ( I take really good care of it!) I called on a whim to ask about the teeth whitening. Lo and behold. My dentist has the Zoom. The same exact thing used on Extreme Makeover. Was this a sign from above? No, the sign from above was that they just had a cancellation and had a time open...THAT DAY. I took it before I could think about it.

Now, let me tell you. I'm SO glad this is a one time deal. Sweet Joseph. It was two hours of torture. And so boring. I literally woke myself up snoring while sitting under the lamp. With my not so cool shades on that they provide. Man, beauty costs. But it looks good.

I have since broken out the sexified red lipstick and I stop at every mirror to smile like a maniac. I can't imagine how much better it's going to look when I get the bonding replaced, too!!! I am drinking coffee out of straw. And not caring what anyone thinks of me.

Since my smile has it's groove on...mama needed a new outfit to show it off. My mom and I did a little shopping this morning and while I did purchase a little something for the rest of the gang? I SO bought for myself. My mother was proud of me for doing that. I didn't realize how I neglected myself until today.

This is my thinking. I'm shopping to gift myself for the upcoming May weekend that my husband won't be here for. Instead of getting depressed...I'll just look good. No harm in that, is there?

Yeah, I got the outfit to wear to the ex-sister in law's house for a bridal shower for her sister this Sunday. We're all cool, but you never know who will be there from the Jerk's side. I have the red lipstick that rocks. I have the new heels that will kill me but no one will ever know because I am a Southern woman and we know how to handle that stress. Oh...I got the accessories to go along.

Told you I was being good to myself.

And I have my very own before and after pictures.

Beautiful Spite

My ex-husband (we'll refer to him as "Jerk" from here on out) liked working in the yards. This was a good compromise for us since I despised yard work. He made some really good choices and purchases when it came to plant life and really took care so that we had blooms year round in competition with my parents next door. Around two years before the Big Split, he decided to put a rose bush against our house. Off he went to buy the lattice because he was sure this thing was going to grow grow grow. I laughed because I knew he was putting it in the worst possible place for a plant. The ground was hard and dry and just not conducive for thriving rose blooms. But, he perservered. He watered it faithfully and I even pinched hit when he was working so his "baby" would survive. He lovingly spread plant food around the base and I'm sure there was a conversation in there between him and that rose bush. A year later, we had a few beautiful blooms. How proud he was of that bush. We must have taken 20 pictures and each bloom was recorded on film (was before digital cameras, friends).

Then came the Big Split. In the mass confusion, the rose bush was forgotten as it was February and it wasn't time to bloom. When March came Jerk arrived to pick up the girls for visitation. Casually he asked me if I was watering the rose bush. No, I replied. He got antsy. He asked me if maybe I thought I should. Nah, I shrugged....just knowing it was squeezing his soul that I cared not for that mangly rose bush. He left without another word.

A month later, the bush didn't appear as lovely as the year before. Again, Jerk inquired about it. Finally I told him to go dig the blessed thing up and take it with him. It didn't matter to me. (Nerves were quite raw between the two of us) I saw Mr. Hyde start to appear and braced myself. He informed me that he was going to leave that bush right where it was so when it died, everyone driving by could see it withered and brown on the vine and they would just KNOW that it was all my fault and blah blah blah. (I'm thinking there's some inner issues he was really referring to in that conversation). HA...I replied....I wouldn't touch that rose bush with a ten foot pole! Let it die. See if I care.

Oh, the hurtful things that people can say to each other.

That rose bush did suffer. It had a bad couple of years. Then...all of a sudden...it's gotten a life of it's own. It's started blooming and growing at an amazing speed. Right now it's sitting out there with over a hundred gorgeous blooms on it. It's higher than the house. I think if I just leave it alone, it will take over and cover the house and we'll live in some Sleeping Beauty like fantasy land. Okay...overboard....I have an active imagination.

I guess what it boils down to is that the rose bush is beautiful in spite of me and Jerk. Our dislike, frustrations, and just plain pettiness have washed over it and in the end.....it has won.

It didn't need either one of us to survive.

That's beautiful spite.

A Message for Paige

Twelve years ago on the 14th, you came into this world screaming. Or that's what I've been told. I was unable to participate in your birth because I had that nasty preeclampsia and got really sick. Rumor has it that I almost died, but I don't believe it because I don't recall any bright lights beckoning me. I just remember waking up in intensive care and your Nana telling me I had a baby girl. I don't recall much else from those two days. A doctor friend stopping by......your grandaddy David.....and a nurse with an angelic voice.

I didn't see you until you were a couple of days old and even then I couldn't make it to the NICU. They had to bring you in that plastic limo to my room. I remember how tiny you were at 3lbs 7 ozs and how this fierce love flowed through my veins. I was only 22 and didn't know a blessed thing. (Hindsight tells me that one!) I do know that I knew what a mother's love was and as I sat by your isolette day in and day out....I saw your prom. I saw your graduation. I saw your wedding. I saw the future.

I would take pain pills and time it to where I could drive that stick shift car of mine to the hospital. Yes, it was a big no no after having had a c-section, but everyone was back to their normal routines. And I had to get to you. Hours and hours I would sit by your side and watch the machines telling your life story. There are blurry faces of nurses that would bring me juice or crackers and fuss at me for not getting proper rest.

You came home at 4lbs even. A 2 liter pepsi bottle was bigger than you. My only thought was to make you thrive and flourish and let you know what love was.

I think you were born fighting and you haven't stopped yet. I wish sometimes you wouldn't struggle so hard to get ahead. It will all happen in good time. I understand your frustrations for the most part and hurt when I don't.

You are a beautiful and intelligent lady. You know how to match your clothes and iron them. You're learning the art of being a woman. I can't believe this teeny tiny baby has become the lady you are today. It just happened so fast.

BUT...and there's always a but. I am your mother. Not your friend. I will listen and be there for you, but I'm not your pal. It's my duty and honor to prepare you for what life has in store and I would be doing you an injustice if I didn't teach you right from wrong and how to handle situations that come along. The lessons aren't easy, but you won't fail. Maybe the day will come that we can be friends of a sort, but until then....I'm the boss. If I need to, I'll have it put on a shirt.

Growing up isn't easy. You're making sure of that. But I'm your mama and I will be behind you every step of the way to lift you up and help you. Even if you don't know it.

And, yes, you can be a lawyer and a doctor. Just PLEASE keep your grades up because we just can't afford that tuition!!

Where Things Don't Belong

Random thoughts about where things don't belong:

Paige lost her cell phone. After calling it to see if we could find it that way? It was in the VCR.

A stool in front of the washing machine. Hmmm. Open washing machine.....too many things to count floating around.

The Creme Brulee creamer I've discovered to go with my favorite beverage coffee? Poured out all over the floor.

The car keys? In the oven. In a pot of grease I keep for french fries. Keyless remotes DO NOT float in grease.

The last little piece of a block of cheese? In its zip up bag. Behind the t.v. With lots of things growing from it. Eww.

Remotes. Books. Magazines. Library books. Homework work book pages. Thrown behind the couch.

Box of wipes? In the commode.

Bottle of parmeson cheese? Shook out on top of the creamer.

The other shoe that belongs to the bestest and coolest pair of Wiggle bedroom shoes you ever saw? The kind that will make a two year old scream with glee? In the trashcan in the bathroom.

We've stopped getting upset over the new location of things in our house. It's become an adventure to see where something will turn up.

Man, I hate adventures sometimes.

To My Son

Two years ago yesterday you came into my life. I couldn't believe that you were exactly what I ordered. A dark complexion....big..no HUGE brown eyes...and a head full of dark brown hair. My heart swelled to bursting when your daddy held you and just looked at you with awe in his eyes. I wanted to bawl like a baby (durn hormones!) when your sisters sat on the foot of the bed and held you with the biggest grins because all they wanted was a baby brother. They proudly wore their shirts that said "MuMu- Vitt's big sister" and "Sissy- Vitt's big sister".

You grew too fast for me. You walked at 8 months 3 weeks and you haven't stopped since. Your determination and pure bull head attitude make me think you will make it far in life or be really tough in prison one day. I just can't understand how one little boy can get into so much trouble and still smile such a sweet angelic smile that melts even the coldest of hearts. The way you furrow your eyebrows in concentration or frustration makes me believe you will need botox before I do. Probably before kindergarten, I'm afraid.

I miss your daddy and it breaks my heart that he is missing out on so much of your early years. There are times when you do small things and I file it away to tell Daddy when we talk. There's no way he can fully comprehend what I'm telling him, but it helps him to understand and even share in your life just a little more. When I miss your daddy the most, I can look at you and while you watch your Wiggles with the fullest concentration... I can see from your profile you have his beautiful lips. Your bottom lip jutts out just a tiny bit like his and it makes me smile. Because as long as I can look at you, Daddy isn't far away.

You have brought a dimension to my life that I didn't even know existed. I appreciate "little boys are made from snips and snails and puppy dog tails" more and more. I know that as long as I draw breath, you will love me with a fierceness that defies logic. I know this by the way you throw your tiny arms around my neck and squeeze like you're a 300 lb. bouncer and then kiss my cheek. I expect you shall find a love one day that fulfills you...but just remember Mama keeps a LOT of band aids for boo boos and my kisses have magical healing power.

You are no longer a baby, but a strapping toddler/preschooler. Soon I'll have to let you venture out into the real world to fight your dragons....save a few damsels...and change the world. I wonder if the world is prepared for that?

Just remember this. When you are grown and doing wonderful things....you will forever be my baby.

So quit trying to potty train yourself already! I'm not ready for it.

Second Verse, Same as the First.......

Yeah, this country song life of mine just keeps getting more award winning. I can feel my Southern twang getting richer and fuller every single day.

Second Verse, same as the first......

• My van started messing up. After a few consults it was decided that maybe it was the alternator. It was. I called the Kia place and took it in. They fixed it pronto.
• Next day, said van left me beside the road as the engine ran hot. I was on the way to take the girls to the dentist. Paige's anxiety level sky rockets as I call the KIA place in order to see just what in the (loss of religion word) they did to my van the day before. My mother comes to get the girls as I sit for an hour and half beside the road waiting on the tow truck.
• Just minutes before the tow truck arrived, one man stopped. The whole time I sat there and no one stopped. What is the world coming to?
• Because I was stranded at the Kia place and could not take the day off and do personal stuff as planned, my business partner comes and picks me up in the charter bus. Very cool. Yet, I had to ride all afternoon to meetings. Between stops I had to pick up the girls and they thought they were royalty having a vehicle with 6 televisions screens AND a potty on board. Talk about tired.
• Oh, and it was the Kia's place fault. They stripped a hose or something. I did get it back the same day along with an intense flirt session from the service manager. Ick. He told me to tell my husband he would take care of me while he was gone. Double Ick. Whatever. At least he washed my van for me.
• Paige was sick. Good thing? I called the doctor and told them what was going on and they simply let me diagnose her since we go through this every 6 months. Saved me a doc's visit and some money.
• And last....the washing machine decided to play Niagara Falls. And all the laundry that was done? Got soaked. I had around 10 loads of laundry to tackle....again. That really broke the camel's back.

Yeah, it was a week....again. My job is getting ready to take off with April approaching. We have to make "appearances" at the games of the teams we have contracts with. Some I can handle since we have extremely good seats as part of the contract. One ball team even has us a box reserved ! No public potties for us. My husband was very excited to learn about our third base front row seats. That we have for the entire season.

My mother in law should hopefully be planning to head this way soon to stay for a while. I am looking so forward to her coming. Another adult in the house to have some decent conversation with sounds like heaven. Because, contrary to Paige's belief...she isn't grown.

My company is planning on purchasing a new charter bus. So why am I choking over the 500K price tag on that bad boy??? Gives me the freaking willies just thinking about. But, hey, it is going to be a sweet deal to ride in. The head partner...who has all the experience......that man can dream big. I gotta hand it to him.

So I'm off to prepare for a new week of intense preparation of our Spring season. In the meantime, I gotta hit the dentist myself, find something that will ease Paige's allergies, keep up with the housework.....and hopefully talk to my husband is has been locked up in a submarine for a couple of days now. (Honey, can you stop playing Navy for a few and come check in?)

I'm not tired of blogging. It's just hard to find time to compose when you have an almost 2 year old in the computer chair behind you playing the bongos on your back.

It Might Be the End of the World

Because it is 8:30 p.m. and all three of my kids are in bed. Granted, the smallest one isn't asleep yet, but we're working on it.

Paige is fighting allergies so she's on a benadryl high. I so appreciate that stuff right now. Poor thing. She needs her rest.

Vitt had to go to bed. He was so ornery that he was beside himself and I wasn't in the mood to deal with twins.

And there used to be so many small things lying around on the floor. Erasers. Lip gloss caps. Cars. I was constantly on the girls to pick them up because Vitt was capable of choking on them. I looked and the floor was clear??? Could it be that my girls were finally listening to me?

Nah.

Vitt's been stuffing them into the VCR.

Tagged...again

Sir Rick, Master of the English language, Professor of Profanity 101, has tagged me to do another round of "SEVEN". I'll play along since the questions are different and thought provoking.

Seven Things to Do Before I Die

1. See my children grow up.
2. Learn how to swim.
3. Build a house.
4. Own a Land Rover.
5. Shop when there's NOT a sale.
6. Pay off all our debt.
7. Quit laughing over #6.

Seven Things I Cannot Do

1. Swim.
2. Keep my mouth shut.
3. Control my facial expressions.
4. Deal with my ex.
5. Turn my back on coffee.
6. or chocolate
7. Resist taking a nap if possible.

Seven Things That Attract me to Blogging

1. I can run my mouth.
2. I can write down what happens and maybe laugh about it.
3. It's my personal corner of the universe.
4. Therapy..the cheap way.
5. Meeting other people who have issues, too. (stating no names here)
6. Some family can keep up with what's going on.
7. I can vent about the Navy.

Seven Things I Say Most Often

1. Can I get a quote? (thanks to the new job)
2. I will cut your butt if you do that again.
3. You have GOT to be kidding me.
4. Bless his/her heart.
5. Do you mind?
6. Dear Lord...help me to.......
7. I don't think so.

Seven Books I love

This one is impossible. I read too many to list any particular ones. I've read the Harry Potter ones more than once, so that should qualify them. And they're so freaking big, they should count for 3 sometimes.

Seven Movies/DVDs That I Watch Over and Over

1. Fifth Element
2. Men in Black (both)
3. Dazed and Confused
4. Sixteen Candles
5. Top Gun
6. Grease ( I can SO sing the smack out of Stockard Channing's song)
7. Forrest Gump

Seven Celebs I Could Be Friends With

1. Matthew Macoune....I have no idea how to spell it but I would love to hang out with him one time.
2. Robin Williams
3. Reese Witherspoon
4. Oprah (cuz, dang, I want in on her favorite things)
5. Madea (yeah, I know it's a man dressed in drag, but I LOVE those movies)
6. Queen Latifah (she's the coolest, plain and simple)
7. Rev. Billy Graham (just imagine)

Seven Friends I want to Join in

1. Fred (I mean it)
2. Mar (find time, girl)
3. Jacinda (oh, go ahead and do it again!)
4. Crazy Me (yeah, you too, girl)
5. I'm blank now. Does this mean I'm not popular?

My Life is a Country Song

There is an old joke about country music. That if you play a country song backwards, you get the woman back, the dog back, and the truck back. Many people have told me how depressing country music can be. It's all about the trials and tribulations of life itself. So many times I've listened to a particular song and had to nod my head in agreement. Some songs even make me shed a tear or two.

As I was fixing my pot of coffee this morning, I had an epiphany of sorts. At the moment, my life is a number one hit country song. I had to laugh to keep from crying. Case in point. I will give you a few details that could possibly win some singer a grammy.

1. My Makenna has the flu right now.
2. She also has a flare up of her eye ulcer going on.
3. My Paige thinks she's grown and refuses to be a child.
4. My husband is stuck in a boat and I haven't talked to him since Thursday morning. Don't exactly know when I'll get to.
5. I'm working a new job that I love but can't get a handle on because of numbers 1-4.
6. My dishwasher is quite possibly leaking. (I came to that conclusion when I stepped in water this morning in that vicinity)
7. My commode is still broken. The back tank is open and exposed and I can flush it...just the redneck way.
8. I ran over the stray dog that took up here...quite by accident. No one liked her but I've been treated like mean person because she ran in front of my van. Thing is? She's still alive and seems okay for the most part.
9. My house has suffered due to the sickness and I am overwhelmed at the thought of buckling down and cleaning it.
10. Last but not least.....my ex is driving me crazy with his stupidity. No country song can be complete with an ex mentioned somewhere in there.

This doesn't seem to be alot of grief really. But, add it all in and you got one hockin' good country song. I'm sure of it.

I really think that most of the country song writers have to have been in therapy at some point in their lives. Maybe some need to go now.

That's why I've been a little lax in posting. The fiddles, steel guitar, bass fiddle, and acoustic guitar have been a little bit distracting.