Vacation! I Need A Vacation!!

As of Friday, I am off for a week's vacation.

Our vacation, like most of my vacations growing up, will consist of going to Southern Missouri and visiting with family & friends.  We didn't go last year and it's just about to kill us all!

This whole upcoming week will be spent drinking tea, floating down rivers, doing Silver Dollar City one day, cook-outs, and............there are a couple of important birthday celebrations we are going to celebrate.

The Beautiful Redhead recently turned 21, so we have some straight up partying to do on that score!  Plus the twins will turn 16 this summer.  That is a very important birthday, perhaps the best EVER, as The Beautiful Redhead has sadly learned.  We have had many conversations about how life is never as good as when you can finally DRIVE.  Nothing really compares to that, we have found.  What do you think?

Stay tuned for what I can capture on my camera and get blogged, because we are going to be at the mercy of free wi-fi for my laptop, as we are going to the country.  The real country, where wi-fi is not pervasive as of yet.  

One thing I want to do for sure is get pictures of all the barns we pass on the way.  The same barns I have passed and re passed all my whole long life, making this (at least) annual trip.  Slowly the barns are disappearing and being replaced with metal ones, when they are replaced at all.  So sad, to see barns falling down.  On the other hand, it's a fitting description of America and our culture.  Pay attention, people, it's happening all around us, all the time.

Anyway, we are off.  I myself am even going to try to avoid the news for a whole week.  I doubt I will make it, but I'm going to do my very best.  You can go ahead and watch and worry about it for me.  Just for a week.  Deal?  I promise not to turn into a zombie during my time off.

As for now, I have to make my lists.  Pack.  Make arrangements for the dogs.  They are going to get their own vacation this year, because I couldn't deal with imagining them thinking we had died, or worse, just left them, for a week.  I know that is probably pathetic.  However, I considered it, and I would rather be considered pathetic than have my dogs think we would ever just leave them.  Even though we are, indeed going to do just that.  I guess I could also be considered a hypocrite.  What parent can't???  It made me crazy wondering what they would think if some just showed up to feed them twice a day and they didn't know where we were or if we would come back.  It is entirely possible that they wouldn't think anything, I tell myself.  But in this case my heart handily beat my head, hands down.  So the dogs will spend vacation with their own mom and brother.

Are you taking a vacation this summer?  Will it involve running water and good music?  We can't live without it.  Years ago I during a conversation about how pretty the rivers and creeks were in south Missouri, as compared to north Missouri, because of all the rocks, the twins dubbed the river there The Rock Bottom River.  We thought that was hysterically funny.  It is rock bottomed, as is every body of running water in that area, and I'm sure it has seen a few "rock bottom" moments, mostly to do with float trips, so we just call it that now. Many is the relationship that has hit the rocks during a float trip. True story!  In fact, a float trip is a good way to judge your suitability for each other in tense situations, not to mention how well you work together as a team.   It may say Elk River on the map, but my kids know it as The Rock Bottom River.  Oh, and if you are a people watcher, you can be happy on the river ALL. DAY. LONG.

Soon we will be off, and taking time off.  Time off from the news in order to sit and discuss things that matter on more personal levels.  Spending time with family, floating, looking at rocks, sitting with our feet in running water while we drink sweet tea and laugh helplessly, mostly at ourselves.  Old memories will be aired and new ones will be made.

Visiting the cemetery, where I almost always find a sad new surprise, then down to 43 bridge, where I always feel bad if I drive by without stopping.  We will drive under the bluffs of Noel, something that always freaks people who've never been there OUT!  I can't even tell you how many times I've tried to prepare people for this, only to be told that they have seen "bluffs" before. Like it's no big deal.  By the time the bluffs are over us the same people are scrunching down in their seat asking if this is really safe.  I just shrug.  I would not have ever sworn it is "safe", mostly because that would depend on some lawyers interpretation or definition of "safe".  What, in this life, is really safe?  *shrugs*  Good question!  Or the times I've been assured by first-timers that they have seen "chicken houses" before and then if we arrive at night they thing the chicken houses are an airport because of the lights and the "chicken houses" being as long as a football field.  Good times!  Good times!!  They thought they had seen bluffs and chicken houses before, but they hadn't REALLY see bluffs and chicken houses before until they came to the southwest corner of Missouri, where it meets Oklahoma and Arkansas.  Red dirt roads and seed ticks, we will take it all in.   I can already feel the tension lessening in my shoulders.

I need a vacation.  I will report as I am able, but plan to take a lot of pictures.  It's getting hard to get us all together at the same time anymore.  My children are in the process of making their own lives.  The nerve of them!! ;)  It's a process we are growing into.  Priorities are a very important part of life, make sure yours bring you only joy.

Spend your time only on what is truly important to you, and you will have a happy life, always.

Bittersweet Mother's Day

I need to read over what I have written so that I don't repeat myself.  Being the procrastinator that I am, I haven't bothered to actually do that yet.  If I am repeating myself and anyone can tell the difference, I'll bake you a cake.  However, I'm pretty sure I have not written about this before.

My brother was born the day before Mother's Day in 1968, on May 11.  She always joked that he was the perfect present.  When he grew up, his only child, a son, was born on my mother's birthday, Nov. 1.  It was pretty special, and by far the best birthday present she ever got.  This formed a strange kind of triangle for  us all when she died on May 11, 2004.

That day I called my brother and he spent his birthday driving as fast as he dared on a motorcycle for 3 hours trying to get home in time to be there.  He didn't make it in time, and I spent those hours feeling horrible because I hadn't called him sooner.  I should have insisted he come sooner. I should have known this was it.  I should have.......if only..........maybe I could have............well.  It's just a thing I have, a heartache you could say, that is still tied to my raft on the river of life.  I've let it out so that it follows a distance, I've set it on fire and even filled it full of bullet holes, but I have yet to cut that particular heartache loose.  I am working on it.

That was 9 years ago, and yet every time I pick up the phone to call him on THAT DAY, it all comes back to me.  I tell myself that I just have to keep doing it, and eventually it will not be strange anymore.  Eventually we will have more memories of it not being THAT DAY, and it won't be strange anymore.  Because I'm THE OLDER SISTER and our dad never could remember our birthdays, even when we were little, and I cannot just let his birthday pass without calling. That would be.........unacceptable to my mother.  This is what I tell  myself, and I think it's probably what my brother tells himself, too.  After 9 years it's still hard for me to make the call, and I am afraid it's still hard for him to get it, because usually I leave a message and he calls me back.  The next day.  I guess we will never get over THAT DAY, but I also know that on THAT DAY we are both aware, every second, of what day it is.  We have no need to actually talk to each other, we are brother and sister.  No words are necessary.  

Thankfully, I have 4 children, plus a bonus daughter and 2 pretend grandchildren who made my Mother's Day this year much easier to get through.

Friday night the boys and my other "adopted" 4th son decided to help my get some limbs cut and make a bonfire in the backyard.  I did pretty well when I came out to find one cutting limbs that the other one in the tree above the limb.  I took it in stride.  Don't look a gift horse in the mouth is my motto, so I acted like it was all normal.  It was a big jump, without the lower limbs, for the one up the tree, but boys will be boys and  there were no injuries.  It was a good day.  We roasted hot dogs and made s'mores and sat around the fire till late, when it had burned down so that we didn't have to worry about setting the neighborhood on fire.  Those boys told me that was my mother's day present and I told them it was THE BEST present ever!

The next day I made meatballs, marinated in the blues by Stevie Ray Vaughan, and took them to my bonus daughter's reception for graduating college. So exciting!!  The Beautiful Redhead was supposed to be at the reception, but was not, despite repeated text messages.  Just as I was about to leave she called and said she had fallen asleep but was awake now and wanted me to come there.  This is so.........her.  And I love her.  And she is my only daughter.  So I drove to her apartment and we went to the Olive Garden, even though I had just eaten, and we had a really good time, just us girls.  She had to work Mother's Day anyway and couldn't come home for the actual day, so this was good.  It was good mostly because I was really tired, had had a late night, early morning, busy day, and still an hour and a half before I would be home and able to collapse.

This brings us to Mother's Day, when The Rock Star was coming with his beautiful and wonderful girlfriend. They brought me candy and we got some time at home without the house being full or me having to cook, which is the perfect Mother's Day in my book.  

After they left I sat and drank in the quiet and realized that I could relax now.  It was over. I told Mom I had made it through another one, but that it was just never going to be the same as it used to be.  

She smiled her quiet smile and said "That's true. But you already knew that a long time ago, babe."

That's what being a mother means.  Going on, even when you don't want to, carrying all your memories and making more and never letting anyone know any different.  It's just the way life works, when you're a mom.

Iheartradio, we need to talk.....

One of the things I have done to take back control over my life is limit what I listen to in my daily life.  I turned off the news years ago but was still surrounded with some very strange stuff that also made me crazy on the radio.  So I started being very careful about where I keep my dial tuned.  It has improved my life dramatically.  Actually, that's an understatement.

One of my favorite things in this battle is Iheartradio.com. It's a free music service, where you give them a general idea of what you like and they just keep throwing stuff at you to judge whether you like it or not. If you like it, it plays again. If you don't like it, it never plays again.  I mean never.  The best part, though, is that there are no commercials or idiot DJ's to make you crazy.  In case those things have that affect on you, that is.

Everything was going really good until I decided to "make" a station called Orleans, after the soft rock group you may or may not remember.  Whether you remember them or not, I'm sure you know the song Still The One.  This is a basic idea of what I was looking for.  I guess because they were popular in the 70's, the powers that be go by the genre and the time period to throw more stuff at you.  If you are picky about your music, this may make you crazy anyway.

I had always known was picky about music, but I like so many different kinds that I doubted this would be much of a problem.  Always the optimist, that's me.  Not really, just seeing if you are paying attention. So I "made" my Orleans station and it threw out the Bee Gees, Bob Seger, Gordon Lightfoot, Van Morrison, Carole King, the list goes on, but all were good with me. I "liked" them all.  THEN it started throwing Linda Rondstat at me.  I down arrowed her.  The first time I didn't think much about it.  But it kept throwing more at me.  I down arrowed them ALL and I realized a couple of things.

1)  I am not a Linda Rondstat fan.  I never knew this before.  She can sing, don't get me wrong. She has a great voice and great control. It's just that her songs........well, her songs get on my nerves.  All of them.  You have to be in a certain mood for almost all of them.  They are all so intense, they wear me out.   Take You're No Good, for instance, please! Been there, done that, done WITH that, quite your whining, Linda, suck it up and move forward like the rest of us have. Probably your friends and family knew it all along!   I guess I'm just never in those kinds of moods anymore. I lack the energy and have learned that this, too, shall pass.  But Iheartradio did not seem to be getting the hint.  It's not about the songs, it's about the artist, and I am here to tell you, Iheartradio, I am not a fan of Linda, so you can quit putting both herself and I through this embarrassing rejection.  Enough already!

Which leads us to:

2) that there were only about 3 women who were even singing (successfully) at that time.   Besides Linda (cringe) and Carole King (give her to me all day long) they started throwing Melissa Manchester at me. Now, I had actually forgotten all about Melissa, who also can sing very well, but does not "do" it for me. Never did, never will.  I may have forgotten about her, but I can say that I never even knew she sang so many songs!  I was exhausted before I got them all down arrowed, and in desperation I just "made" another station.   It turned out pretty much the way you would expect.  Some good, a whole lot of bad (at least to me), and a few that I had forgotten about.  You might be saying "Couldn't they have thrown in some Heart?" Good idea, just a few years too early.  

The worst thing is that never, NEVER do they play some of the best songs that an artist ever did, if they were not commercially successful.  Take Jackson Browne, for instance. I "made" a Jackson Browne station, but do you think Sky Blue and Black ever came up?  Maybe Fountain of Sorrow?   NO! Know what did?  Lawyers In Love! GIVE ME A BREAK IHEARTRADIO!!! I KNOW YOU ARE JUST A BUNCH OF KIDS GOING OFF TOP 40 LISTS AND HAVE NO IDEA WHO HE EVEN IS!!

So, now that I have outed Iheartradio, and every other music program I have tried, I will give you some advice: ITUNES, baby!  Go to Itunes, find your music, and it is there for you forever. You can make playlists or play it anyway you want, all day long.  Yes, you have to pay for it, but only once and it is WORTH it!  You can also make any kind of CD you want once you have the music.  My boys have memorized their favorite CD's of mine, whose titles are "Trip To The Zoo" or "Summer 2010" or "Mellow" or "STRAIGHT UP ROCK" or, more sensibly "The Mills Brothers".  OK, not the Mills Brothers.  If you are below the age of 50 I doubt you even know who the Mills Brothers are and I will tell you that they won't be found on Itunes.  They are probably a bunch of kids also.  You have to go to Youtube for The Mills Brothers, but it's free and they are a classic.

What I will say for Iheartradio is that it's a nice change, if you work in a metal building and all your radio will pull in is the local station that is nothing but Top 40 (or perhaps 20) syndication.  That crap about drove me to riot in the streets before I took control and got back in charge of what my head was filled with.  The twins still want to listen to that station, and any time I turn it on, they automatically start singing along, no matter what song is playing, like Pavlovian dogs.  It's kind of scary.

I still felt kind of bad about it until I heard a commercial, when the twins were in the car, by a very deep voice telling us all about the wonders of testosterone enhancement.  I don't know who might need testosterone enhancement, probably older men?  But I was terrified that it might seem like a great choice for teenage boys.......  That was it for me. I know things are tough all over, but when you have to stoop to accepting money to run commercials like that (and I do feel for you, my brothers, but perhaps you could consider you programming?  Good programming could lead to better advertisers?  Just a thought.), you are on your own.  I am done mindlessly driving along while my blood pressure rises listening to bad music and worse life choices presented as if they are sane, which they are not, to people who don't even have enough sense to turn the station.  All this zombie talk is not about nothing, you know.  They are real, just not in the way they are being portrayed by the entertainment industry to part you from your hard earned dollars.   And they are everywhere!

I am frequently tuned into American Family Radio (AFR), found in this area at 91.5, which is Christian based talk radio.  There is no music here, but it's a really good source if you want to know what is actually going on in the world as opposed to who won on American Idol last night, which seems to be being discussed on *some* radio stations as if it were actually news.  Perhaps, to some of America, it is.  If you would like to give it a try you might want to prepare yourself beforehand, depending on where you usually get your news.  In any case, I can pretty much guarantee that you will be aware of things at least 2 weeks before the so-called "press" mentions them, if ever.  Oh, and your children will never hear anything you wish they wouldn't. I promise!  At night they often have sermons that just last about 30 minutes.

One evening, I turned it on as I was making my piles of bills to go through, and I just sent up a prayer that consisted simply of "Lord, you know my needs".  I sent that prayer at the same instant I turned on the radio, which was turned to AFR, and I immediately heard a deep voice with a Texas twang say "and stay tuned for our next segment on What To Do When Thinking About The Future Is Making You Depressed".  I laughed out loud and looked up and was floored because that was exactly what my "need" was at that moment!  Sometimes I feel like He doesn't answer prayers, but this time there really could be no doubt.  I was so very glad that I had heard that instead of a song about some kind of sexual practice or other!

That is how low the bar has fallen, folks.  If you haven't faced that yet, I suggest you listen closely to what is constantly playing in the background of your world.  It's the background of your life.  Choose freely but choose wisely.  Especially if you have kids.

Oy.....

I feel just like Erma Bombeck.

After cleaning the house in preparation to have two adorable little girls for a couple of nights, I had also cleaned out the refrigerator.  

Into the trash went the leftovers from a ham we had at Easter (mostly just the bone, which I will never give to the dogs because I'm afraid they will choke and die).  Into bed went I without taking out the trash.  I just totally forgot, as did both the boys.

When I got up this morning the dogs had rooted through the trash, as dogs will do when we forget and leave it out, and all that was left of the leftover ham was a bunch of tin foil pieces.

And we were running late as it was.

So we made a general "sweep" of the house and did not find any evidence of the bone.

The dogs treat bones completely differently.  Shadow destroys and devours every single bit.  Jack just gnaws on his and spends most of his time trying to keep it safe from Shadow.  This is all futile on Jack's part, as Shadow pretty much runs the show around here.  No one cares enough to argue with her.  Frankly, I want to be Shadow.  She is one of my heroes.

Whether the bone is hidden in some special secret place or has been devoured and might kill them remains unknown.

So when my girls get here tonight, I guess we will just consider this the Easter egg hunt we didn't have?  Oh yeah!  Let's go with that!  While we're at it, let's go with hoping there is no prize to be found!  And that the dogs don't die, of course!

You know, people are always telling me they don't know how I do it.  I don't know either, I just do it.  I have done things that I never dreamed I would do, I have done things I hope I never have to do again, and I have done many, many things that I couldn't even have dreamed up, should I have had the chance.   If there is some way of getting out of doing it, please contact me at once.

AT ONCE I SAY!!

Thanksgiving Recipes

Our Thanksgiving was wonderful.  It was wonderful mostly due to the fact that I did not spend most of the day cooking and then cleaning up.  We are not that crazy about turkey.  We will eat it, of course, but it's not worth spending a day and a night cooking it, along with all the sides, to end up with all the leftovers.  Then there is the the poor carcass, which the dogs can't even eat because I'm too afraid they will choke on the bones and die.

So when it's just us, we do things a little differently on Thanksgiving.  Last year we did chicken enchiladas and fixings, this year we did lasagna and fixings.

I make my lasagna with 1 lb. ground beef, 1 onion diced and cooked with the beef, and then use a big bottle of Prego traditional spaghetti sauce.  I have never used anything but Prego, and I doubt this will ever change.  I layer the sauce/meat mixture with the noodles, cottage cheese mixed with pesto, and mozzarella cheese.  Pioneer Woman always talks about how much better cheese is when you grate it yourself, and I have to agree.  For years I would just buy the already shredded kind, but when you shred it yourself it is so much more moist and you don't need to use near as much.  You are never too old to stop learning, at least I'm not.  I bake that for about an hour at 350.

The Olive Cheese bread is another recipe of PW's, and my children love it.  When I'm alone, I can make an entire meal out of it.  To do that you get a loaf of French bread, and then spread the following mixture on top and bake at 325 for 25 minutes.  The mixture consists of 1 can whole black olives and 1 6 oz. jar pimiento-stuffed olives, roughly chopped, 2 green onions, 3/4 lb. Monterey Jack cheese, 1/2 cup real mayonnaise, and 1 stick of butter softened.  You can make the mixture up ahead of time and do the bread before you put it in the oven, or you can freeze it for several months.  If you have kids who are apt to "drop in" unexpectedly and often bring several of their friends with them, I highly recommend keeping a couple of these babies in the freezer, to be pulled out at a moment's notice.  They will think you are practically Superwoman.  wink wink.

I also did a large green salad with carrots, onions, peas, croutons, cheddar cheese.  This is what kept the boys from starving before Taylor finally made it home.  He has "slept in", which I was pretty sure meant he was "hung-over".  Ah, youth.

The Beautiful Redhead and I spent the night before getting all this ready to be slipped into the oven in the morning, and we made the desserts.  We made two pumpkin pies, as is the tradition, but they were not our best effort.  They will be some of our best memories, make no mistake, and therein lies there value.  We had a really good time, and if our pies were not perfect, well, we simply don't care.  The ride was worth the fall!  The one she made and forgot to add the evaporated milk was really very delicious.  No one noticed a thing.  And the one I made that I spilled three times turned out with a carmelly crust.  Both were very good.

The piece de resistance, however, was the Brownie Bottom Cheesecake with Raspberry topping.  I got the recipe from Kraftfoods.com, which is a wonderful, easy recipe place.  You need a spring form pan to make this, which I had.  Until this year that spring form pan had only been used (still in the box it arrived in) as a booster seat for Abigail when she sat at the kitchen table.  Happily, it worked perfect when I finally got around to putting it to use.

For the brownie bottom, you take 4 sq. unsweetened chocolate and melt with 1/2 cup butter.  Or margarine, but I don't believe margarine is fit for human consumption, so use butter.  Once it is melted and mixed smoothly, add 1 1/2 cups sugar and mix well.  Add 2 eggs, one at a time, mixing to just blended.  Add 1/4 cup milk and 1 tsp. vanilla, mix well.  Add 1 cup flour and 1/2 tsp. salt, gradually to chocolate mixture, mixing until just blended.  Pour into a greased and floured spring form pan (don't forget to wrap the bottom with foil, tightly), and bake at 325 for 25 minutes.

Meanwhile beat 3 pkg. cream cheese, 3/4 cup sugar and 1 tsp. vanilla on medium until just blended.  Add 1/2 cup of sour cream and mix well.  Add 3 eggs, one at a time, mixing on low until blended.  Pour over brownie base (when it's done) and bake 55 minutes, or until center is almost set.  Refrigerate 4 hours or overnight and let stand at room temp. for 30 minutes before cutting.  I put mine on a cake plate and the boys' eyes looked like it was Christmas morning.  I felt wonderful.

It was so good to have everyone together that it didn't matter what we ate.  It's so hard when your kids get older to have that time.  I treasured every minute of it and I sincerely hope you also had a wonderful Thanksgiving, surrounded by the ones who love you.

Being Home.....

There is no time sweeter to me than Christmas these days, simply because that's the only time all my kids are ever home at the same time anymore.  

I never thought much about it when they were all home and I felt like I was drowning in kids all those years, and the quiet is welcome, but every once in a while, this old house takes on the rhythmic routine of days gone by. It's like being able to go into the past, only everybody is older now.  There is none of the anxiety that hounded me for so long.  For decades I was stressed over things not being "good enough".  Now I find comfort in the fact that nothing can hurt this house.  We have seen it all, from bees in the walls to fountains of water pouring out of the wall in the shower. I am telling the truth when I say that it would take a doozy to throw us off now.  We have practically been through basic training with this house.   I like it much better this way.

 For the past few days I have:

     - spent the majority of time in my pajama's or an apron, or both.

     - met one or the other of my older "children" coming in at 4 am, and not been upset with them for missing a curfew.

     - visited with my pretend daughter and noticed that of all the people in the house, no one said a word or remarked in any way when my pretend grand baby serenaded us with her version of a song on the piano.  Not too loudly and not for too long.  I was so proud nobody told her to stop.  We are a mellow crew at my house, I am inordinately proud of this.

      - felt the boys trying to gauge how awake their sister is, trying to make the choice between sleeping a little later or getting in the shower before their sister, as there is a long wait for hot water after girlfriend gets done.

     - heard the voice inside my head ask "are you really listening to your brother and your son have a seemingly casual conversation about AR's, which I am pretty dang sure are assault rifles, and both of them sound pretty knowledgeable?" and answered the voice inside my head "Yes......yes, yes I am."  and then smiled.  We are a family who can protect ourselves and those we love or are prepared to die trying.  I am most definitely proud of that.

       - divided up left over ham while my sons bring a table into the house by way of taking off the back door, and then the weather stripping, until they achieved success and kept me from having to turn around and sell a great table and benches that I bought second hand.  Without measuring my doors or the top of the solid tabletop, just in case that was not self explanatory. ;)  I have raised men who rise to a challenge, not to mention perform miracles with nothing more than a pipe fitter's wrench, a tape measure, and 7 flat head screwdrivers of varying lengths.  What a relief.

      - watched while wringing my hands as my sons tried and failed to get the old table down the stairs, as the "new" table would not possibly fit down the basement stairs.  This did not deter them either.  We just switched out the sets and now I can do puzzles on the table in the basement while my youngest baby plays video games with his friends and asks me to "please do not be a part of this conversation, Mom".  Something tells me this could be a game changer.  The basement has been forsaken by me for several years, for reasons having to do with testosterone and dog hair.  No more.  Muahahahahahahahahahaha.

    - watched one of my mother's dearest friends see the Rock Star's tattoo, (which is his grandmother's name right over his heart), tear up, hug him and say "I am so proud of you", which is pretty much the same thing that I did when he showed me, and the LAST thing I ever could imagine saying when presented with any of my children's first tattoo............of which I had adamantly insisted there would never be any "as long as I live".........  I can eat crow like nobody's business, having had quite a lot of practice over the years.  I think I have learned that you just never know what a day will bring, but that it will probably be all right, whatever that is.  I needed that.

       - comforted and reassured my sister in law that it really wasn't a problem that my nephew left the door open and the dog ran in with big muddy paw prints all over the kitchen, because a) This happens all the time!  Really! and b) I bought a carpet cleaner for this exact reason!  You know those commercials where the kids make a terrible mess and the mom just smiles and says "that's OK" in a sing songy voice?  Well, I am now that mom.  It took 22 years and a Bissell but baby, I am finally there and I have to say, it feels good!  It really is OK!!

      **It should be said that if you want to be "that mom", (and you do!!  Trust me, you do!!)  you should be very careful not to replace your carpet or fix anything that happens to your walls for a couple of decades.  This process will erode the part of you that cares about your house looking "good".  This is crucial, not to mention freeing.    At the end of the 20 years, you will not give one single flying flip about another stain on the carpet, OR another hole in the wall, for that matter.  I didn't say it would be easy, I said it would be WORTH IT.  In other words, give up now, give up and relax and just enjoy those kids while they are still there.  The other stuff you can fix or remodel later, or not........ 

I hope you had a great Christmas and some down time to just "be home".  It isn't easy to accomplish in today's world.  You have to really make your priorities count.  And if you are one of those people who are still caught up in getting everything perfect?  Give it up, now, while there is still time.  If you can't drop everything and have a child, at least borrow one for a while, or get a dog.  There is still time to save yourself.  I have often said of children, "they save us".  They really do, not in ways you would recognize as "saving" at the time.  It's in the looking back that you see how the hardest  things were the best things, in the end, and marvel that you wouldn't trade them for anything.

It's nice to be reminded of that once in a while, even at 4 am.

To my kids, you did a really good job with me.  Thanks!  

    

Christmas Present......

 All those years I waited and waited for them to go to sleep so I could get started.

Now they fall asleep on the couch at 9:30 watching It's a Wonderful Life.......

I knew this day would come.

I always thought I would be happier about it......

Oh, well.  That's life!!

I will just treasure the moments I get to watch them sleep.

I find it just as mesmerizing as I did when they were babies.......

....and to all a good night!!

Little Altars Everywhere.....Pt3

A lot of the ornaments on my tree are actually the kids' now.  Every year I get them at least one, all alike if I can find them.

That says "Mom's Favorite!" under First Born, but don't worry........

Everybody got one.  The girl even had red hair!  I was thrilled.

The undisputed favorite of the kid's is Santa in his hammock.  They used to fight over who got to put it up but in later years have settled for quietly moving him around to their own personal preference, without saying anything about it.  It's become our version of Find Waldo.

It's not a very good picture but you get the idea.  He's on vacation and has probably been drinking Mai-Tai's, so this focus is representative of Santa's own!  He's watching All My Reindeer on his little TV on his tummy, so focus isn't so important.  It's always easy to catch up with soaps even if you are blind drunk.

This is one that the kids always make a point of looking for and locating also.  It's kind of out of focus also but Santa has lost his clothes.  It happens.  I hear stories.

As long as Santa's on vacation and "fuzzy", I guess it's understandable that he might find himself naked except for his hat?  lol

Here is one of the more ritzy ones I have gotten for the Beautiful Redhead.  A a child, the more bling the better.  She was always partial to crystals and I found this one when she was 4 or 5.  The red and white striped ball to the right is from Chuck and Chirpy's December wedding years ago, and this year they are expecting their first child!  You can hang a tree with enough memories to last a lifetime.  Every year it just gets a little bit better.

I admit it's getting a little crowded.  But very soon, the Rock Star is going to need his.  He just got a great job.  Annnnnnndddd he's 22.  Sob..........

One last shot.  This features several wooden ornaments,more "hand" painted ones and the one that says Merry Christmas I got from my co-workers at Walsworth when I left there.  Also on the right there is a train.  We have two of these.  They were gifts to the twins and if you pushed something on them they actually sounded like a train.  Because of the loudly irritating sounds these made, they were very popular with the twins when they were small.  They were just as unpopular with the rest of us for the exact same reason, and this was the biggest game of all for a couple of years, as the twins were a little defensive about it and would throw screaming fits if they could not locate their "choo-choo's".  I forget who we got them from but I highly suspect it was probably my brother, who took his long awaited revenge upon me by buying my children noisy toys for years.  Before he had children of his own and I was helpless to retaliate, not that I would ever be so cruel.  Even he drew the line at noisy toys, though.  I should take this opportunity to thank you, dear brother, for never gifting my children with pets.  

It took about 6 years for the "choo-choo" batteries to finally wear out.  No one in this house would ever dream of replacing them.  We have the memories of that sound and it is enough.  More than enough, until such time as we should have to suffer through it again with the grandchildren.

So ends my post about the "altar" of the Christmas tree.  

But I have other altars.  Everybody does.  They might not be called altars, but that's what they are.

Victory is mine

Yesterday the Grand Finale and I went to visit The Beautiful Redhead.  It was one of the few days where I dared risk the trip, as the weather was warm and it was just supposed to rain.  We drove through a lot of fog to get there.  Our view looked like this:

It was easy to forget where you were during a long trip. This picture is a good analogy of the picture of my life, incidentally, much of the time.  I mean, I always know I'm on the way to somewhere, but I often cannot fathom where because I cannot seem to see too far ahead.  Probably just God's plan so I don't give up too soon.  But I digress.  I do it beautifully, don't I?  So, we made it and picked up The Beautiful Redhead and spent the afternoon shopping.  Not anything exciting, rather Sam's Club for tp and trash bags, but we got to eat out.

This is quite a thing for us these days.

I want you to know that for the first time in my memory, my children asked me where I wanted to eat.  Which is maybe not so shocking to you, but then they ate where I wanted to eat without one word of complaint.

Yep.

It was so shocking, to me, that I reflected all the way through the meal that we actually had a good time the whole day.  Not one drink was spilt.  Not one rude word was exchanged.  The Grand Finale even sat next to each other, in a restaurant with actually glass glasses and real silverware and bread plates and EVERYTHING, man, and never even threw elbows into each other's ribs.  They passed things, used their napkins, and I'm pretty sure the waiter was half hitting on The Beautiful Redhead, but she took it in stride without seeming interested.  I don't think she was interested, you understand, but if she was I am pretty sure she would not want me to know it.  Hopefully this stage will end soon. 

In other words, it is my great pleasure to announce that we have made it.  Where we have made it is hard to define, but any parent who has spent the last 15 years in "restaurants" that feature ball pits or mouse mascots paying you attention will know instinctively what I mean.  We are in a good place, where we are able to simulate a normal family without arousing suspicion.

I almost had some wine to celebrate, but then I remembered it just makes me go to sleep now and I couldn't afford to supply the under aged Beautiful Redhead with a liquor source.  Let her explore her luck with the friendly waiter.  He didn't look 21 to me either, but these days nobody does until they are about 30.

So on our way home it looked like this:

And this, very cool.  It made me want to hear The Year of The Cat terribly, and I don't have that recorded on a CD.  Can you believe that??  A classic song like that?  Note to self made.

When we left Columbia, it was 64 degrees and misty.  The Cyclist called me a little upset about some storm warnings and possible tornadoes.  I started home immediately.  By the time we got to Moberly it was 36 degrees, raining, and very very foggy.  Every once in a while you could tell it was lightening because it looked like a flash had gone off, but I was beginning to worry about tornadoes.  By the time we got to New Cambria, a tornado warning for Randolph Co. came on the radio.  We had missed it by about 30 minutes.  It continued to rain hard almost all the way home, but we made it safe and sound.

You never know what a day will bring.  Especially in Missouri.  That makes us have to trust God a lot, not to mention, be aware and prepared.

Take time to enjoy your victories, no matter how small they might seem.  No victory is small.  They add up and before you know it, you are living your dream.  At least, parts of it.  Nobody has everything ALL the time.

Blizzard - Seriously

We are having a blizzard.  This blizzard was predicted, prepared for and anticipated madly for at least two days.  The kids came home from school early yesterday and joyously proclaimed that they were not having school today.  Indeed, the blizzard was supposed to start last night here. 

I stayed up until almost midnight reading because I fully expected to wake up and be in the middle of a blizzard.  I marveled at what a difference a "snow day" can make in your life.  We all remember the feeling from childhood of course, but as an adult with a job, snow days are few and far between.  If there is even the slightest suggestion that you may not have to get up and do that same thing at the same time, suddenly everything changes.  Normally I have to drink coffee when I get home in order to stay up until 10 pm, so "tired" am I.  Last night I wasn't tired at all and hated to stop reading even then, but I did because I knew there was the outside chance that the blizzard wouldn't come. Many years of experience has taught me this.  It may not hold true in your life.  I hope it doesn't.  But I do not count on "snow days" until they actually happen.  That's just kind of the way things go with my life.  I 've learned to roll with it.

I think I live most of my life under some kind of deadline pressure, only the deadline never comes.  It's just the perpetual pressure of what I have to do next with a clock ticking, ticking, ticking down in my head.  That needs to stop.  Enough is enough.  Why do we do this to ourselves?  DO other people do that to themselves?  Is it just me?  I know intellectually that there is no "finish line", no "prize", no point at which we will ever be "done", as long as we still live.  But I can't seem to shake the constant checking off of that list and the adding to it. 

So, this is one snow day that will not be wasted.  It will be treasured.  I give myself permission to take a break from the list and the pressure and especially the review of what I did wrong or didn't do at all.

I give you permission too.  

So I wake up this morning, nothing.  Not a thing.  It's just started snowing in KC and Joplin is already buried.  So I figure ok, I'll go to work and stay there till noon or it starts flying, whichever comes first.  Due to the delivery of the new doghouse, I have gotten my car back in the garage, and I am just reveling in the fact that it's inside out of the weather when I push the button to open the garage door and it doesn't work.  See what I mean about my life?  I shelled out the money for a new garage door opener last year and it has never worked right.  The remote almost never worked.  About 1/2 the time you can open it with the keypad on the outside, but most of the time the button works.  Not this morning, but most of the time.  So I sit there and keep hiting the button, which is my technique for things that don't work, and eventually, after stopping and starting repeatedly, it goes all the way up.  I back out the car, have to get back out, hit the button, repeatedly, again, and then have to beat it to make it under the infernal thing before I can even leave to go to work.  I was exhausted already.

So the great Blizzard of 2011 started about 9 am.  It grew steadily worse all morning, cancellations are rolling out of the radio, local law enforcement is advising that visibility is dropping rapidly and basically begging people not to go out, and still no one is calling off work.

I left at noon. I think most people did.  Eventually they all left, thank God, I do not know what time.

What I do know is that we had about 6 inches on the ground when I got home at noon.  If you can believe this, I got the car back in the garage and we battened down the hatches.  I changed my FB status to "let us put on our mother's aprons and cook it up!" and got busy.  I baked brownies, made hot chocolate and got baked beans and tenderloins ready to go for supper.   All this time the snow fell like crazy and the wind blew until you couldn't tell which way it was coming from or going.  We brought in the dogs and attended the Snowpocalypse on FB, ate brownies and watched movies. 

We just went out to check and see how bad it was (and I'm sorry I don't have pictures, but I tried and all I got was a wet camera), and we are officially snowed in, man!!  In front of the garage there is a drift at least 3 feet deep.  There was 8 inches on the porch, most of which I managed to get off.  You cannot tell, at the end of the porch where the steps are, where the steps are.  It's just all snow.  You have to step off and wait till you hit bottom.  The dogs went out and were up to their shoulders.  They had to make it to the street before they could pee! They were pretty excited about it and ran first up the street, then down the street, chased by my Youngest Baby.  He did not have his hat. gloves, or coveralls on either.  But you probably knew that.  The one concession he made was boots, and if he wore them you can bet that there was no other way he could make it off the porch.  He is short on preparation but long on dedication, and between him and me using my meanest voice yelling at the dogs to come back, we got them to come back home.  They had less enthusiasm breaking through the 40 feet of driveway drifted in 3 feet of snow. Never underestimate the effect that the sound of food being shaken in the container  you feed them from.  I recommend using metal container, as the sound carries better through blizzards and stuff.  We are all safe and sound, surrounded by food and many, many blankets.

It's supposed to go on into the night, they are saying.  I don't know when it will stops, but when it does, I am going to have to find someone with a tractor and blade or something to dig me out. 

I talked to my family down south and Neosho is reporting 18 inches.  It will be interesting to see how much we end up with.  I can't see either one of the wagons in the back yard anymore, but with it blowing like this it's really hard to tell how much is on the ground.

Enjoy the blizzard if you are in it.  It kind of makes you feel sorry for the ones who didn't get a snow day, doesn't it?

Mothering is a two way street

Two and a half years ago The Beautiful Redhead was my oldest child at home, the Grand Finale had turned 11, and life had kind of settled down to a routine that I was able to keep up with.  My kids were out of the "little" stage and I could come home and actually sit down, even LAY down, on the couch if I wanted. 
I had been through the stages of early motherhood, where I was driven to have everything perfect, or at least as near as possible to perfect as I could get it, and thought everything needed to be clean and put up at all times.  Four kids will get you through that stage a little faster than one.  I do not have any science (!) to back this up, but you can take it from me that it is true.
I noticed, though, that now that I *could* take it easy, that's all I ever did.  My house wasn't as clean as it used to be, true, but it didn't NEED to be as clean as it used to be.  And Lord knows the kids didn't appreciate or even seem to notice if I did clean it.  I was drifting, so to speak, and was not concerned that I was going in a bad direction.  I just noticed the change.  As women at a certain stage of life tend to do.
Most of my life it seemed like "life" was something that was coming at me constantly and it was usually all I could do to keep up with it.  Now there seemed to be a lull, time to look around and actually see what was going on instead of having to react to crisis situations all the time.
The Beautiful Redhead was working with a girl who had just had her first baby and, kindly, had offered to babysit said baby so her co-worker and her husband could have a night out.
I suggested the co-worker bring the baby to our house so I could supervise, as The Beautiful Redhead had a heart that was very kind, but not a lot of practical experience with newborns.
Well.
That baby's  name was Abigail Lea and she was three weeks old the night I met her.  This night was also positioned in such a way that it was the first time I had had a newborn baby all to myself (pretty much) in YEARS.  I held that baby all night.  I unwrapped her and counted all her tiny little fingers and toes, I inhaled her captivating scent, I rubbed my face on her sweet little head.  I laughed and cried and talked to her all night. I rocked her and sang all the old songs I sang to my own babies.  I flat fell in love with her. 

The Cyclist was a little nervous.  I think he thought I had lost my mind.  Luckily, I was thinking enough to make him smell her head, and she got him too.  Oh, he pretended to hold out, don't get me wrong.  When she got old enough to toddle over and lift her arms to him he would put up his hands and say "No, no, we're not having any of that", which of course fascinated her (as he knew it would) and made him a challenge to her.  She had never seen anyone who was immune to her charms before.  I pretended I didn't know that trick and let them establish their own rapport.
We have been her willing slaves ever since. 

Because I noticed that if I was going to have that baby I would get off the couch.  I would clean.  I would pick everything up off the floor and make sure I had food that she liked in the house.  I *had* to, for that baby.

It occured to me that without my realizing it, I had finally grown into the woman I had wanted to be, but never felt like I really was.  While I wasn't looking, I had gotten over all the longing and yearning for "someday, when the kids were grown", and become absolutely content and proud to be exactly where and what I was.  I had left my own selfish wishes behind, without regret, only to embrace being the nurturer that I used to resent having to be. 
I had gotten goooood at it.  I could do this.  Whether that baby projectile vomited all over me and my house or got choked, I knew exactly what to do.  And I could even ENJOY it, because I wasn't the least bit scared anymore.

Being a mother will do that to you.

When you see a woman mothering a child, you may think she is taking care of that baby.  That's what it looks like, and she is taking care of that baby.  But holding and nurturing that baby is taking care of her also.  It's a two way street, and one that had no set route.  You figure it out as you go, accomodating each other along the way. Because of this love you will move a mountain or get down on your knees to scrub the floor, whatever it takes, for as long as you need to.  Not because you have to.  You don't, actually, have to.  You do it because you want to for that baby.  And you would do it forever, for them.  And they don't have to be your own, either. This is the miracle of putting someone else's welfare ahead of your own.  I believe it is tantamount to having an honorable life.

One morning I watched that baby wake up, look over and see the Cyclist, and very carefully lay her sweet head down on his chest.  He knew enough not to move a muscle, and she went back to sleep right there.  I also knew that had never happened to him before.  I cried.  I think he went back to sleep but I know it's one of those moments that he will never, ever, forget and that it touched his heart in a way nothing ever had before and probably never will again.

This is the kind of thing children give you.

And that's how I got a pretend grandbaby.

She commands us with a merciful hand.  She doesn't ask for much.  She laughs and smiles and claps her hands if you have, say, a bananna in the house.  Or a boiled egg.  If you take her to Wal Mart, she throws her hands in the air in a "touchdown" salute and says "YAY"!  She spends a lot of time in the tub with bubbles and her toothbrush.  The world is a better place for having her in it.  These days her first question upon getting to "MiMi's house" is "Where's the boyeez?" 
Those boys, who were my babies, now have a little one who thinks they are 10 feet tall and stronger than superman.  They give piggyback rides and wrestle and give her old video game controllers that don't work. The fact that she doesn't know that, and thinks they hung the moon doesn't bother anybody one bit.

And we are still rolling along, I'm still cooking and cleaning and have finally gotten comfortable with crayon marks on the walls and stains on the couch.  Why?

Because I know what's really important.

My best advice, if your kids are older and you don't have grandkids yet, is to go out and find a pretend grandbaby of your own.  There are plenty of mother's out there that could use someone they could trust to watch their child, even for an hour or two.  I do not believe you will ever regret it.  In fact, I believe it will be good for not just you, but the child, the mother, and ultimately the world.



PS.  For the people who are following my e cigarette journey, I skipped the "medium" cartridges and went straight to the "low".  I think I smoke more vapor at at time this way, but haven't had any more or worse cravings, or noticed any fallout from "stepping down", so next time I buy cartridges I'm going to get the water vapor only with no nicotine.

Bricks in the wall

Both halves of the grand finale were thrilled to have another snow day today. I was pretty thrilled also, and left instructions for the driveway to be cleared. I left detailed instructions for them to wear boots, coveralls, hats and gloves and told them to get it done while the sun was shining.
When I got home at noon it wasn't done. The sun was shining brightly, and I left detailed instructions for them to wear boots, coveralls, hats and gloves and told them to get it done while the sun was shining.
I called from work at 2 pm and it wasn't done. I left detailed instructions for them to wear boots, coveralls, hats and gloves and told them I was getting tired of telling them to get it done while the sun was shining.
When I got home at 5 it wasn't done.
SO, I fired some lasers out of my eyes and asked why it wasn't done.
The youngest baby said the oldest baby had told him to do half of the driveway because that's what the oldest baby did last time and I was happy!! The oldest baby said the last time he just did half of the driveway and I was happy!! Then the youngest baby fired off his favorite attack, which is "WHY DON'T YOU EVER GET ONTO THE OLDEST BABY!!!!! YOU ALWAYS BLAME ME". And I said "FOCUS, GRAND FINALE! FOCUS!!" And I gave them detailed instructions to wear boots, coveralls, hats and gloves and told them that it was really cold now, so to hurry as much as they could before they got frostbite or something that would be a terrible burden for me to deal with in addition to my other daily duties.
The driveway is done. Sort of. Probably.
It's dark now, so it's kind of hard to tell, but while I may have *technically* won this battle, I do not think I won this battle. At least not in the way I was imagining.
Which is the point of my post tonight.
You have to pick your battles, of course. But the biggest part of being a parent in repeating, repeating, double checking, triple checking, and making one last swoop through to make sure you haven't forgotten anything. It's pretending as though things are going to happen when you know in your heart that these things are not going to happen exactly the way you have pictured.
It's acting as though they have done what you asked them even when they haven't, and praising their effort rather than focusing on their short-comings.
When my kids were little and refused to pick up their toys I would do it with them. I would make them do it.
......I am still doing that, and with the Grand Finale I have been doing it for about 11 years.
Will it ever pay off? Who knows. Not me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm having any affect at all.
It's all I can do sometimes, not to throw dishes and break things. The only thing that keeps me from doing that is the certain knowledge that if I did, I would just have to clean up the mess. Oh sure, the kids might help, but it wouldn't be a stellar job. Someone would get glass embedded in their foot and we'd have an emergency room charge on top of me losing my mind and breaking all the dishes. And that's enough to stop me.
At least so far.
Being a parent is doing the same things, repeatedly, without thanks, praise, ackowledgement or compensation for years with only the hope of them ever paying off. Building walls, one small brick at a time. Chinking away ceaselessly with no end in sight.
The thing is, that's all right. You just keep on keeping on.
It is kind of hard not to keep repeating things, but eventually, if you get old enough, they will forgive you for that.
And I know that, eventually, the Grand Finale will have little argumentative ones who need to be reminded (4 times) and double checked.
Which makes it completely worth it.

Winter seems to drag on, doesn't it?
In 6 more weeks it will almost be spring!

Mistaken lyrics beget blog title

Update on non-smoking:  I have noticed, as have a couple of others, that I am smoking the magic stick less.  It is now about 9 or 10 in the morning before I really have a craving for the nicotine.
I have also heard rumblings of the starter kits being taken off the market.  I haven't researched it yet, but word on the street is that the FDA is throwing a fit because they haven't approved it.  I didn't know that was even a requirement of the FDA anymore with all the commercials for drugs on TV now, which turn out to have class action suits filed within a period of about 3 years because the drug they advertised and you went and got from your Dr. turned out to have serious side effects that will probably kill you.  Have you actually listened to those commercials?  The side effects they read at the end always have me in stitches.  You really have to wonder who would need a drug that bad.
But back to the electric cigarettes, I think we will still be able to buy the cartridge refills.  If you are interested in one at all, I would buy one or two now.  It has been a miracle for me and several of my friends. No one who has tried one has said it did not cut down on thier smoking.

In other news, I will tell you where the name of my blog comes from.  My oldest son, the Rock Star, recently recorded a CD with his band. This CD is the result of years of work, sweat, money, tears and life experience and I am so very proud of these kids.  The name of the band is Our Last Run.  I happen to know they take all exposure, especially if it's free, and I have been cleared to talk about them.
These kids have been playing together for 4 or 5 years, and for most of those years, our house was a place where musical instruments were always laying out, song lists and partially written songs were on slips of paper everywhere, and it was not uncommon for 5 or 6 strapping young gentlemen to wander in and inquire if there was anything to eat. (There was, as a result of my having discovered Pioneer
Woman about that time.)
It was loud, the hours were not regular, and you might get a call at 10 pm requesting an extension cord or something be delivered to where the band was playing.  The Rock Star wrote most of the lyrics and used words like "debris" and "disarray", which thrilled his already proud mother to no end.   "Hey, mom, listen to this song and help me figure out what to do with it" was a common request.
So, you would think I would know all the words, right?  Not so right. 
When I got my advance copy, I put it in my car and rode around until I had listened to the whole thing.  When I got home, I told The Rock Star that I absolutely loved it, raved on and on very enthusiastically, and said "Lace your days with hope", that is the best line.  The Rock Star didn't miss a beat.  He just smiled fondly and said "Huh.  It's actually "replace your fears with hope", but that's actually better.  I think I'll use that."  I felt terrible about it.  I assured him it probably wasn't his singing, it was more likely my old hearing.  But since I came up with it I decided to use it for my blog title.  If he wants to use it now I will of course give him permission.
I can't tell you what it is as a mother to listen to these songs.  They chronicle his life in those years, and he has grown so much and so WELL that I can only hope he never stops.  It's been 6 months and I still can't keep from tearing up everytime I listen to it.
If I had known when I became a mother how wonderful it would turn out, I would do it all again, 1000 times.  It is being a parent that makes us become the best person we can be.  We live a certain way not because we like to (at first) but to give our children an example of how to live thier lives.  I used to think as a young mother that when the kids grew up I would have time to chase my own dreams.  Along the way I came to realize that my children were the only dreams I ever had worth pursuing. 
I think sacrifice is the secret to life.  You have to do it for a long time without getting anything back.  Because otherwise, it's not really sacrifice, is it?  If you do it long enough, you will learn to love it for itself.  It ceases to matter whether you get anything back.  And when you do, it only makes you glad they see that you made it and are grateful in turn. 
That's how you know they will be all right, even if you die tomorrow.  It all comes full circle and you will find that all those years you went on because you didn't know what else to do, well, there was a plan.  You were doing exactly what you were supposed to.
It's a really good feeling.  It takes 20 years, but it's SO SO worth it.

That should be enough hope to lace several days.  Especially for the young mothers who are trapped at home during this long, miserably cold haul up the hill to spring.  Take heart and have a little faith in yourself.  Trust God.  He really is in control.

Love Handles - Check

Still smoking my magic stick and sticking to the plan but it is HARD.  For one thing, my tongue has blisters all over it from constantly sucking on hard candy.  Butterscotch is my preference but I have never been picky when it comes to candy. 
So last night I stopped by the store to get a some garlic bread and lettuce.  Lo and behold!!  All Christmas cookies were on sale for $1 a bag.  Now, I should explain that when you stop smoking certain things happen.  Like, for one thing, you begin to taste and smell things again.  And you are kind of anxious all the time because you feel like you are forgetting something, so putting something in your mouth serves two purposes.  It makes you feel like you are doing something, and it helps get that taste of ashes out of your mouth.
Well, at $1 a bag I decided to live it up and threw 3 bags of cookies in my cart.  I'm feeling pretty good about it all and I don't even have to stop to bag a bunch of stuff, so efficient is the non-smoking, candy devouring new me.  When I got in the car, I was so hungry that I ripped open the nearest bag of cookies and I ate 27 cookies on the way home!!  I counted.  Because I'm efficient like that.  They were kind of stale, but that did not deter me in the least.  I was thinking this was crazy and how low I had sunk, when the person inside my head said "Hey, babe.  Whatever it takes.  There are probably children still starving in Africa.  You're golden."  And I felt better.
The person inside my head talks to me alot.  I used to think it was God when I was little, and it could be.  I always hear the person inside my head.  I do not always follow their advise, usually to my dismay, but in this case it was nothing but comfort.
Which brings me to the jiggling sides.  Possibly love handles.  Is that two words?  Whatever.  I have some.  I do not seem to have actually gained weight, but you know how it goes when you suddenly notice your jeans are tighter?  Mine are.  I was just starting to worry about gaining weight when the person inside my head said "It's not that you have gained weight.  It's just that you are not coughing 100 times a day anymore. That must be the equivalent of 100 sit ups. Or crunches.  Or WHATEVER they are calling them these days.
It made perfect sense to me.
So, my plan is to scoop some snow.  Plenty of that around.  If we get real excited we may even build snowmen this weekend.

I am just starting this blog and have not yet discussed permission to talk about my children (at least one of which I am pretty sure is not speaking to me right now.  Either that or there has been a disaster that I am not yet aware of).  So I will just say that I have 4.
The Rock Star, male, 21
The Beautiful Redhead, female, 18
and two perfect halves of what I like to call the Grand Finale, both males,both 13
The Oldest Baby, and
The Youngest Baby

Because you know they will always be my babies.  They'll tell ya.  They aren't even embarrassed at all.

So, is there anybody out there who can tell me how long before you can sit still without anything in your mouth?  Or is that just me?