Disneylaaaaand...Okay, not quite yet. First things first. I know, that was our kiddos reaction too. It was so hard being right there and not going...yet. See, the main (we'll just say that) reason we went to California was that every year my hubby's father's side of the family has a family reunion. A huge family reunion. It's a big dealie. There's a theme to it every year (it was a Western theme this time), Bingo, raffles, music, an inflatable jumpy thing and arts and crafts for the kiddos, a generous amount of Corona and BBQ-ed pulled pork and carne asada. We'll just say, very good food. A lot of very good food. It is a rule that you must go back for seconds. At least. If you don't you will hear many bad words in Spanish and mucho finger pointing. In Spanish. So yes...get more corn-on-the-cob and nachos, lady.
Being that we've been living on the other side of the country for the last 11 years, we haven't actually been to one of these reunions in a long time. Our oldest daughter was about 1- 1/2 the last time we went. So about 6 reunions ago. So we were really looking forward to going so that our girls could "meet the family". Let me give you a little idea of what "meet the family" means...my father-in-law has 5 sisters. And his parents had like five siblings each as well. So yeah, big familia. Big Hispanic familia. Or as my father-in-law puts it, "Methican" familia. He can say that, cuz he is Mexican.
And with big families, come drama. I was fully expecting drama. Last time we went, 6 years ago, it was a little rough. Hubby and I were basically "on the line" as to whether we could sit at the "kid's" table or graduate to the "grown-up" table. Which way do we go, which way do we go? By "kid's table" I mean, the tween to teen age crowd. And by "grown-up" table I mean all his aunts and uncles and great aunts and uncles. There was quite the leap between age groups. He had one cousin that was married that we latched on to, but they were in the same predicament as we were. So we all kind of gravitated towards the "younger" crowd. Yeah, no so great. They were the "younger", basically po'd at life crowd. The "I wouldn't smile if you paid me" crowd. It was rough. I have a memory I have yet to block out of me going around taking random pics of the family and I get to the "young" crowd and all the pictures they are looking like they are one second from taking me down. The look of death. So yeah. That went well. Hubby and I basically stuck to the Bingo table and focused on our toddler (praying right then and there that our daughter would not master the dagger look when she is a teenager--we were frightened).
This time around, I had an entire conversation planned for one of the teenagers (one of hubby's cousins). Since the last reunion, she had gotten married and hubby had actually visited with her and her hubby on a business trip recently. She could officially sit at the "grown up" table if she wanted to now. So I was really gonna try to reach out and get to know her better. She is a tattoo artist. I was gonna see if she could give me a tattoo. I have a little rose tattoo on my ankle (this story is for another post) and I've been thinking about getting another. So I had this whole conversation planned with her to sort of get me "in". I was gonna tell her I was thinking about getting a bikini-line tattoo, which would be very shocking to her (I imagined), cuz she would never imagine me asking for such a thing. So she would instantly like me. And we would become bff and I'd have a really cool bikini-line tattoo for a bikini that I would never wear again. Cuz I haven't had a bikini in like um...15 years.
Anyway...Break Time...go ahead. I'll wait...
Okay, so the whole bikini-line tattoo was totally gonna be a joke. Like once I drew her in and saw the shocked look on her face, followed by the, "She is so dang cool...I had no idea..." look she would give me...I would say, "Juuuuust Kidding....What I really want is a life-size ladybug tattoo on my big toe. Can you do that?" Then she would be all, "Um...yeah...you sure you don't want it on your bikini-line? Cuz that would be so much more righteous, but instead of a ladybug can we do a dragon?" And I would be like, "Oh, um...nooooo, just the life-size ladybug on my big toe. That'll do it." And as disappointed as she would be (in me), she would do the ladybug on my big toe, but add like more legs and make it into a really scary spider (which would freak me out EVERY TIME I saw it), just because it would be against her religion to do a ladybug tattoo. I just know it. And that would be the end of that. She wasn't there anyway, and I guess it's a good thing, cuz I flipping hate spiders. But do you seeeeeee where my whole mind goes? You are totally impressed, aren't you? I am one deep Momma.
I'm not even going to go into the drama that is the "grown up" table. And I shouldn't even say drama. It's just what you are when you have a big family. Okay, a family. But seriously, someone should write a book. And that is all I have to say about that one. But this time around, things were better. No drama for the Momma. We had fun. It could very well be that we had fully graduated to the "grown up" table. Or that the majority of the "kid table" didn't attend this year. But it was fun. And that cousin of hubby's that was married, that we had kind of latched on to last time around, added two kids to their familia that were close in age to our girls. So we latched back on to them again and had lots and lots to talk about. Kids will do that for ya (and about 6 years of added life experience). Our kiddos were in little cousin Heaven. There were "little cousins" everywhere. Oh, and there were pinatas...two. We hardly knew we had kids for a couple of hours. And the tween/teenagers from the "kid" table last time that attended this time (you following me?), were all nice and smiley this time. Everyone was very huggy too. I love hugs. And the food was *awesome*! I did mention how important the food was, right? I became fast friends with the caterer and booked him for my birthday next year. And I won $75 dollars in a raffle, which came in very handy later, at dinner, contributing to the margarita/Cadillac fund.
Speaking of that margarita/Cadillac fund coming in handy. We went to dinner with my father-in-law's immediate family (all the sisters and their families) later that evening. It was at this amazing Mexican restaurant. Very good food (again with the food) and margaritas. It is here where I finally understood what a "Cadillac" is. It makes your margarita extra special. So we enjoyed our evening out. This family does know how to have a good time. We highly enjoyed our time together. And the margaritas.
But what I love about being with all the family is that we have a family to be with. It's so great to be surrounded with all these people that look like you. Or look like my hubby and my girls. This connection. Just looking around the table at everyone, you can see the relation, in looks, personality, the way they carry themselves, cross their legs, laugh, use their hands. Smile. I loved my own daughters' reactions. the realization that this was their family. That this was all theirs. Two of my favorite comments came from my oldest...she's 7. She looked around in awe and exclaimed, "They really are Spanish!" and happily exclaimed to her cousin, "We have the same last name?!!!" followed by the hand holding and jumping up and down in jubilation. Cuz that's what you should do.
Next time...Disneyland...I swear.
P.S. You are about to be overwhelmed with pictures. You've been warned. :)
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Scream Like A Little Girl
On we go...
So the next couple of days are kind of a blur, cuz being in the car for three days will do that to you. The scenery consisted of never ending tractor trailers and farmland. Raisins. I think I saw a sign about raisins. Lots of grapes. Orange groves. I might of dreamt miles and miles of sunflowers too. I drove a lot. Hubby was glued to his laptop and blackberry for most of the trip down. Work never ends. It's so much better to drive when you're on road trips. I hate sitting in the passenger seat for too long. It gets very uncomfortable after a while. I get all achey and stretchy (must you know everything?) and b.o.r.e.d. Plus it's like total car coma. I try reading, but that usually goes one of two ways...car sickEDness or sleep. Plus when you're co-piloting in the passenger seat, you are responsible for all that goes on in the back seat--aka, the kiddos. The refereeing never ends. Someone dropped their crayon for the umpteenth time, they need a drink. More gum. They want their pillow (jammed under the suitcase in the very, very back), their blanket, "Where's Little Mermaid!". Gum. Close the cooler. "Momma, Little Mermaid rolled under your seat!...I need her!!" You're changing kid Cd's left and right. You know how it goes. So driving was relief. It kept my mind alert and the blood flowing. And I didn't have to search for Little Mermaid.
In CHIco, we did break down and get the girls their OWN teeny bopper magazines. I know. You're totally disappointed in us, aren't you? But do teens even read these things anyway? I don't think so. I've seen MTV lately...they are SO not reading teen magazines. So we did it and the girls were in Jonas Brothers/Hannah Montana/Camp Rock/High School Musical Heeeaven. That kept them busy for a good chunk of the trip. And me too. Not gonna lie...I checked them out too...being a good Momma (know what's going on in my kiddos life) and all. Plus that Zac Efron is such a cutie! But yeah, hubby and I commented more than once that we can't believe we caved. It was worth it though. I recommend it. I'm here to corrupt.
What sticks with me too on this trip, is a lot of Jamba Juice, Baja Fresh and Rest Areas...maybe in that order. Yeah, we had a lot of Jamba Juice. So good. It's my new favorite. It's replaced my Vanilla Lattes. We would literally map out the nearest one. Hey, it's healthy. That's like a meal! And Baja Fresh is just good. Now the bathrooms. As much as I hate rest areas (I always come armed with Clorox wipes and anti-bacterial--do not touch anything! And take your flip flops off when we get back in the car! Before we get back into the car!), I like them about 100x better than gas station bathrooms. I'm just saying. If you can choose a rest area over a gas station bathroom--do it. And that's all that needs to be said about the bathrooms. They are just like very important when you're in the car 24/7, drinking the mambo jumbo Jamba Juice thingies.
So we're almost there...we've almost reached our destination. We've stopped in Modesto for Baja Fresh, spent the night in Fresno (Sequoia Brewery for pizza and cold drinks...yes, hubby was in charge of the meal planning portion of our trip). And we finally made it to Anaheim! Right smack into Traffic. The mecca of traffic. Wow. I thought Washington D.C. was bad (and it is). We went three days without traffic. Okay, without stopping in traffic. Without congestion. Once we reached L.A., time stood still, in a smoggy haze. We crept. It took us an hour to go like two miles. I swear. We could see our exit for like an hour. And it was just L.A. Everywhere else we went on the trip (before and after L.A.), we never came across any traffic like that. Time just stops. Let that be a lesson to you L.A. Learn from it.
So moving on...once we finally moved on, we made it to our hotel. Hallelujah! Right smack across the street from Disneyland! Bliss, I tell you, bliss. Walking distance. We could see the Matterhorn from our room! We thought the girls were sleeping, but they were just speechless (a very rare occurrence). Then it all sunk in and there was joyful screaming and jumping up and down and high fives everywhere! Then the girls saw what hubby and I were doing...our victory dance, our Mickey Mouse is right there dance, and joined in. Cuz this is what you do when you see Disneyland! This is allowed. You must scream like a little girl when you are in proximity to Disneyland. It's like giving birth. You instantly forget the pain. You forget the fact that you were just in a car for three days straight. All you see is the outcome. What you were waiting for all along. Disneyland.
So the next couple of days are kind of a blur, cuz being in the car for three days will do that to you. The scenery consisted of never ending tractor trailers and farmland. Raisins. I think I saw a sign about raisins. Lots of grapes. Orange groves. I might of dreamt miles and miles of sunflowers too. I drove a lot. Hubby was glued to his laptop and blackberry for most of the trip down. Work never ends. It's so much better to drive when you're on road trips. I hate sitting in the passenger seat for too long. It gets very uncomfortable after a while. I get all achey and stretchy (must you know everything?) and b.o.r.e.d. Plus it's like total car coma. I try reading, but that usually goes one of two ways...car sickEDness or sleep. Plus when you're co-piloting in the passenger seat, you are responsible for all that goes on in the back seat--aka, the kiddos. The refereeing never ends. Someone dropped their crayon for the umpteenth time, they need a drink. More gum. They want their pillow (jammed under the suitcase in the very, very back), their blanket, "Where's Little Mermaid!". Gum. Close the cooler. "Momma, Little Mermaid rolled under your seat!...I need her!!" You're changing kid Cd's left and right. You know how it goes. So driving was relief. It kept my mind alert and the blood flowing. And I didn't have to search for Little Mermaid.
In CHIco, we did break down and get the girls their OWN teeny bopper magazines. I know. You're totally disappointed in us, aren't you? But do teens even read these things anyway? I don't think so. I've seen MTV lately...they are SO not reading teen magazines. So we did it and the girls were in Jonas Brothers/Hannah Montana/Camp Rock/High School Musical Heeeaven. That kept them busy for a good chunk of the trip. And me too. Not gonna lie...I checked them out too...being a good Momma (know what's going on in my kiddos life) and all. Plus that Zac Efron is such a cutie! But yeah, hubby and I commented more than once that we can't believe we caved. It was worth it though. I recommend it. I'm here to corrupt.
What sticks with me too on this trip, is a lot of Jamba Juice, Baja Fresh and Rest Areas...maybe in that order. Yeah, we had a lot of Jamba Juice. So good. It's my new favorite. It's replaced my Vanilla Lattes. We would literally map out the nearest one. Hey, it's healthy. That's like a meal! And Baja Fresh is just good. Now the bathrooms. As much as I hate rest areas (I always come armed with Clorox wipes and anti-bacterial--do not touch anything! And take your flip flops off when we get back in the car! Before we get back into the car!), I like them about 100x better than gas station bathrooms. I'm just saying. If you can choose a rest area over a gas station bathroom--do it. And that's all that needs to be said about the bathrooms. They are just like very important when you're in the car 24/7, drinking the mambo jumbo Jamba Juice thingies.
So we're almost there...we've almost reached our destination. We've stopped in Modesto for Baja Fresh, spent the night in Fresno (Sequoia Brewery for pizza and cold drinks...yes, hubby was in charge of the meal planning portion of our trip). And we finally made it to Anaheim! Right smack into Traffic. The mecca of traffic. Wow. I thought Washington D.C. was bad (and it is). We went three days without traffic. Okay, without stopping in traffic. Without congestion. Once we reached L.A., time stood still, in a smoggy haze. We crept. It took us an hour to go like two miles. I swear. We could see our exit for like an hour. And it was just L.A. Everywhere else we went on the trip (before and after L.A.), we never came across any traffic like that. Time just stops. Let that be a lesson to you L.A. Learn from it.
So moving on...once we finally moved on, we made it to our hotel. Hallelujah! Right smack across the street from Disneyland! Bliss, I tell you, bliss. Walking distance. We could see the Matterhorn from our room! We thought the girls were sleeping, but they were just speechless (a very rare occurrence). Then it all sunk in and there was joyful screaming and jumping up and down and high fives everywhere! Then the girls saw what hubby and I were doing...our victory dance, our Mickey Mouse is right there dance, and joined in. Cuz this is what you do when you see Disneyland! This is allowed. You must scream like a little girl when you are in proximity to Disneyland. It's like giving birth. You instantly forget the pain. You forget the fact that you were just in a car for three days straight. All you see is the outcome. What you were waiting for all along. Disneyland.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
"Holiday Road"
I'm just gonna jump right in and get going with this. Cuz I have a lot to say and very little time to say it (before one of the kiddos needs something)...
The drive down to California was great. We weighed out flying versus driving and driving won out--gas prices and everything. I was really craving a road trip anyway. The whole National Lampoon's experience. Our girls are good travelers (I'd like to thank the Air Force and also, 35+ Wiggle concerts for that one). Some of my very best memories from growing up, are long trips in the car with my family.
It took us three days. Originally hubby wanted to do it in two and I gave him the, "Are you crazy? Do you know us at all?!" look. So three days it was. The first day was the longest...like 9 1/2 hours. It was a good chunk. Straight away we let the girls know that they were not allowed to ask, "Are we almost there?" And given that they had absolutely no concept of time and how very, very long they were going to be in the car, we put it in Hannah Montana terms...something the girl's get. So we let them know that we would be in the car for like 18 Hannah Montana's. That's a lot. But, "How many Hannah Montana's?" sounded so much better than, "Are we almost there?" coming from the back seat. So. much. better.
What also got us through this day was Coldplay. Well actually Coldplay on satellite radio. Like I mentioned in a previous post, XM channel 51 is doing "30 days of Coldplay." No commercials, just Coldplay. So we listened to a lot of Coldplay. A lot. And continued to listen to them the entire trip. Amazingly, and this tells you how good a band is--we did not get sick of them. Not at all. Granted, we threw in the High School Musical and Camp Rock soundtracks, of which I have a funny story from our drive home (saving it for later) and the Disney Channel station, cuz you know, we have KIDS. But mostly it was Coldplay. I think this will be my girl's, Dirty Dancing road trip soundtrack. That was what I listened to from the backseat of our Cherokee on our road trips, growing up. I think Coldplay will trigger memories of this trip for them for years to come.
What I remember about this day was crossing the California border and realizing we needed to get gas pretty soon, thinking we'll stop at the next gas station. I was getting a little panicky. It was like 104 degrees. It's scary where your mind goes when your gas light is on. So like a very long time later (we were in the curvy mountains, with not a town nor gas station in sight), we finally came across a lone gas station. Just like you see in the movies...there were tumbleweeds. Guess how much the gas was?? $4.97/gallon! That's right! So we got like 3 gallons and continued on our journey and to another gas station like one mile away with gas that was like 30 cents less. Bugger! Somehow we made it to Chico, California. Or what we like to say, "CHIco!" After that long on the road, you get a little loopy. It could have been the smoke too. We didn't see the wildfires, but we sure did see the smoke. And smell it. We must have been fairly close, because most of the people staying in our hotel were firefighters. That helped keep the girls quiet-er while we were at the hotel...The firefighters have been up all night (walk quieter) fighting fires, we need to be soooo quiet (please stop jumping on the bed!) so they can sleep (shhhhhh!). Poor guys. We'd see them in the elevators, faces all black with soot and bloodshot eyes. See, these are the things I remember.
So also in Chico, they have the Sierra Nevada Brewery. Hubby made an effort to schedule our trip around breweries. He was in hop heaven. He heard a Heavenly chorus as we pulled into the parking lot. The golden distilleries calling him. They really were golden...okay, maybe brass, but they were really shiny. It really was an impressive place. They had their own hop field and everything. He was a happy boy. The girls and I were just glad to get out of the car and EAT.
Oh, and thank goodness for hotel swimming pools--great incentive for the girlies. It's like the first thing my girls scope out once we "reach our destination." It's the most exciting thing, ever...when your a kid, stuck in a car all. day. long.
So it was a good first day. We didn't run out of gas, hubby got his brew and the girls got to finish the day with cannon balls!
Now...tell me you don't have these lyrics in your head (if you don't now, you will by the time I'm through with ya!):
I found out long ago
It's a long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Jack be nible, Jack be quick
Take a ride on a West Coast kick
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
I've come back long ago
Long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
The drive down to California was great. We weighed out flying versus driving and driving won out--gas prices and everything. I was really craving a road trip anyway. The whole National Lampoon's experience. Our girls are good travelers (I'd like to thank the Air Force and also, 35+ Wiggle concerts for that one). Some of my very best memories from growing up, are long trips in the car with my family.
It took us three days. Originally hubby wanted to do it in two and I gave him the, "Are you crazy? Do you know us at all?!" look. So three days it was. The first day was the longest...like 9 1/2 hours. It was a good chunk. Straight away we let the girls know that they were not allowed to ask, "Are we almost there?" And given that they had absolutely no concept of time and how very, very long they were going to be in the car, we put it in Hannah Montana terms...something the girl's get. So we let them know that we would be in the car for like 18 Hannah Montana's. That's a lot. But, "How many Hannah Montana's?" sounded so much better than, "Are we almost there?" coming from the back seat. So. much. better.
What also got us through this day was Coldplay. Well actually Coldplay on satellite radio. Like I mentioned in a previous post, XM channel 51 is doing "30 days of Coldplay." No commercials, just Coldplay. So we listened to a lot of Coldplay. A lot. And continued to listen to them the entire trip. Amazingly, and this tells you how good a band is--we did not get sick of them. Not at all. Granted, we threw in the High School Musical and Camp Rock soundtracks, of which I have a funny story from our drive home (saving it for later) and the Disney Channel station, cuz you know, we have KIDS. But mostly it was Coldplay. I think this will be my girl's, Dirty Dancing road trip soundtrack. That was what I listened to from the backseat of our Cherokee on our road trips, growing up. I think Coldplay will trigger memories of this trip for them for years to come.
What I remember about this day was crossing the California border and realizing we needed to get gas pretty soon, thinking we'll stop at the next gas station. I was getting a little panicky. It was like 104 degrees. It's scary where your mind goes when your gas light is on. So like a very long time later (we were in the curvy mountains, with not a town nor gas station in sight), we finally came across a lone gas station. Just like you see in the movies...there were tumbleweeds. Guess how much the gas was?? $4.97/gallon! That's right! So we got like 3 gallons and continued on our journey and to another gas station like one mile away with gas that was like 30 cents less. Bugger! Somehow we made it to Chico, California. Or what we like to say, "CHIco!" After that long on the road, you get a little loopy. It could have been the smoke too. We didn't see the wildfires, but we sure did see the smoke. And smell it. We must have been fairly close, because most of the people staying in our hotel were firefighters. That helped keep the girls quiet-er while we were at the hotel...The firefighters have been up all night (walk quieter) fighting fires, we need to be soooo quiet (please stop jumping on the bed!) so they can sleep (shhhhhh!). Poor guys. We'd see them in the elevators, faces all black with soot and bloodshot eyes. See, these are the things I remember.
So also in Chico, they have the Sierra Nevada Brewery. Hubby made an effort to schedule our trip around breweries. He was in hop heaven. He heard a Heavenly chorus as we pulled into the parking lot. The golden distilleries calling him. They really were golden...okay, maybe brass, but they were really shiny. It really was an impressive place. They had their own hop field and everything. He was a happy boy. The girls and I were just glad to get out of the car and EAT.
Oh, and thank goodness for hotel swimming pools--great incentive for the girlies. It's like the first thing my girls scope out once we "reach our destination." It's the most exciting thing, ever...when your a kid, stuck in a car all. day. long.
So it was a good first day. We didn't run out of gas, hubby got his brew and the girls got to finish the day with cannon balls!
Now...tell me you don't have these lyrics in your head (if you don't now, you will by the time I'm through with ya!):
I found out long ago
It's a long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Jack be nible, Jack be quick
Take a ride on a West Coast kick
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
I've come back long ago
Long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Monday, July 28, 2008
What's Been Going On
I'm ready to write. It's been like 13 days! One thing I learned in College, something that actually stuck with me, is to write what you know. Since I had the kiddos, my writing took a serious back seat, because I forgot that (or was just too plain busy figuring out parenthood...a journey that continues). Well, lately the light bulb flipped back on and it hit me to write about my life (which is why I started blogging). See, I've been happy. And I used to think that my "good" writing came out of not being happy. "In the thick of it," so to speak. And that's true also. It was free therapy. But I have also found that I like writing about happy. And as not exciting as my life may seem--the whole very married with children bit-- (though sometimes it really is rather thrilling...we have our moments), it's what I know. My hubby's college roommate and BFF, lives in Switzerland. I always feel bad for hubby when he gets an e-mail from his friend, cuz HIS life IS really exciting. It's the "what couldda been" for my hubby. But, I'm pretty sure our life has been pretty exciting the last 13 days or so...so here it is. I'll try to take it easy and not overwhelm you all right away. Kind of spread it out (well, that and I have to you know, do the mom/wife stuff--I have priorities)...
Here it is (drum roll pleeease): We went on vacation. To California. To Disneyland/California Adventure/Legoland. No, I didn't meet Chris Martin (though I feel as if I know him so much better) and I am not pregnant (just in case you thought I was...cuz usually that is some big news). We went on vacation. To California. To Disneyland/California Adventure/Legoland.
We drove...and now, you get to read ALL ABOUT IT. We had ups and downs. We had fires and brew pubs. We saw family. A lot of family. We had high gas prices. We had Mickey. We had motion sickness. We had tears. We giggled. We stayed up until midnight like every night. We made friends. There was a Bat Mobile. We had margaritas. And Cadillacs. We had the Golden Gate bridge. We used to have money. We have pictures. We have lots of laundry.
So that's it. That's the big secret. I hope you're not too let down. But it's totally what I've known for the last 13 days and I'm pretty bad about keeping secrets...I was afraid I'd give it all away (if I tried to not write about it)...I always bust out laughing and the jig is up. I have no poker face. But really. I seriously didn't want my house getting broken into.
So stay tuned. I took notes. I dreamed about blogging. I got it all up here (points to noggin')! So please come back. I'll have snacks. And wine and Fresca.
Here it is (drum roll pleeease): We went on vacation. To California. To Disneyland/California Adventure/Legoland. No, I didn't meet Chris Martin (though I feel as if I know him so much better) and I am not pregnant (just in case you thought I was...cuz usually that is some big news). We went on vacation. To California. To Disneyland/California Adventure/Legoland.
We drove...and now, you get to read ALL ABOUT IT. We had ups and downs. We had fires and brew pubs. We saw family. A lot of family. We had high gas prices. We had Mickey. We had motion sickness. We had tears. We giggled. We stayed up until midnight like every night. We made friends. There was a Bat Mobile. We had margaritas. And Cadillacs. We had the Golden Gate bridge. We used to have money. We have pictures. We have lots of laundry.
So that's it. That's the big secret. I hope you're not too let down. But it's totally what I've known for the last 13 days and I'm pretty bad about keeping secrets...I was afraid I'd give it all away (if I tried to not write about it)...I always bust out laughing and the jig is up. I have no poker face. But really. I seriously didn't want my house getting broken into.
So stay tuned. I took notes. I dreamed about blogging. I got it all up here (points to noggin')! So please come back. I'll have snacks. And wine and Fresca.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Random Coldplay Comment
So yeah...I'm dying to write, but I don't trust myself...so here's a little sumthin' sumthin'...
We've been listening to 30 days of Coldplay on XM channel 51 (that was a little hint)...A LOT of Coldplay (that was another hint, but I'm tricky, so ya know...don't go all crazy now, imagining that I'm sitting next to Chris Martin or anything right now as I type this...but one can dream)! I've decided I flipping REALLY love Coldplay now. Before I loved them, but you know, now I've got to add the "flipping really" to totally express the love.
Oh yeah...my Coldplay comment...sorreeeeee...I tend to go on and like I said, I'm just dying to write (about nothing). So we're listening to XM and it's all Coldplay, no commercials (bliss) and they have these Coldplay factoids and the boys in the band get on and make all these comments about the songs and their lives and such. Love the accent, boys. So we're listening to "Yellow" (live)--I love this song-- and as Chris Martin starts the song he goes to the audience:
If you all stand up we'll buy you all ice cream!
I just thought that was SO COOL. I know...I'm very easily entertained (and I like ice cream) and I very much hope you are too. But isn't that a great thing for him to say? I would TOTALLY be friends with him in real life.
Okay...as you were.
We've been listening to 30 days of Coldplay on XM channel 51 (that was a little hint)...A LOT of Coldplay (that was another hint, but I'm tricky, so ya know...don't go all crazy now, imagining that I'm sitting next to Chris Martin or anything right now as I type this...but one can dream)! I've decided I flipping REALLY love Coldplay now. Before I loved them, but you know, now I've got to add the "flipping really" to totally express the love.
Oh yeah...my Coldplay comment...sorreeeeee...I tend to go on and like I said, I'm just dying to write (about nothing). So we're listening to XM and it's all Coldplay, no commercials (bliss) and they have these Coldplay factoids and the boys in the band get on and make all these comments about the songs and their lives and such. Love the accent, boys. So we're listening to "Yellow" (live)--I love this song-- and as Chris Martin starts the song he goes to the audience:
If you all stand up we'll buy you all ice cream!
I just thought that was SO COOL. I know...I'm very easily entertained (and I like ice cream) and I very much hope you are too. But isn't that a great thing for him to say? I would TOTALLY be friends with him in real life.
Okay...as you were.
Monday, July 21, 2008
I Just Miss You (Do you miss me?)
I know you miss me and my random stories of my dear, chaotic familia. Don't worry...I'll be back. I'm on a secret mission (this is coming across way more dramatic than it is...so it's not really a secret and not really a mission per say, but something like that...not even close...but yeah...) and will be back to my blogging self pretty soon. For now you're gonna have to live with these very random (even more random than usual) blog bits. OR just check back in a few days for some AMAZING blog stories (again, with the drama). I won't let you down (well, maybe a little--but they'll be pictures!)...
Friday, July 18, 2008
I'm Keeping Her
I'm keeping my blog name, "So, What Was I Saying?" It's a good fit.
The other names made my behind look big. ;D
Thanks for playing!
The other names made my behind look big. ;D
Thanks for playing!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Just Added A Poll
Okay, I don't know what's going on with my blog right now...it's looking a little loopy, but I'm working on it. I did just add a poll on the right side bar (though right now my right side bar is visiting my left side bar...) for my name change ponderings. So, if you can fiiiiind it, please vote, cuz I'm sooooo curious.
Thanks,
Reece (I'm just not ready to give that name up yet. Just bear with me...;D)
P.S. I guess I'm only seeing it all funny looking. Think it has to do with my browser at the moment...using hubbs laptop and so yeah...I blame him. Not too much though. :D
P.S.S. I'm working on the font color on the point. It would help if you could SEE it, right? ;D
P.S.S.S. I need skills.
Thanks,
Reece (I'm just not ready to give that name up yet. Just bear with me...;D)
P.S. I guess I'm only seeing it all funny looking. Think it has to do with my browser at the moment...using hubbs laptop and so yeah...I blame him. Not too much though. :D
P.S.S. I'm working on the font color on the point. It would help if you could SEE it, right? ;D
P.S.S.S. I need skills.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
So, I Was Thinking...
I need some advice...or maybe a vote. I'm not sure yet. I'm just sorta thinking about it right now. But I'm thinking about changing my name. Not "Sunshine," though the thought has crossed my mind (Aquarius...Breeze...Apple...Mary...). Juuuuust kidding (though something like, oooooh, I don't know...Reece would be cool.), I'm perfectly happy with "Sunshine". Really.
I'm talking about my blog name. Title. Whatever. I don't know...it pretty much fits me (and my train of thought) quite well--the So, What Was I Saying bit, but I was thinking...what do you think about:
Chit Chat & the Mother
OR
This That & the Mother?
They are probably both already being used (or about to be), but I'm open for suggestions too.
I've just seen so many cool blog names. I just want to be cool. And cute. And have *amazing* legs...wait...what was I saying? Just nothing weird like "Moonbeam," okay?
Thanks,
Reece
I'm talking about my blog name. Title. Whatever. I don't know...it pretty much fits me (and my train of thought) quite well--the So, What Was I Saying bit, but I was thinking...what do you think about:
Chit Chat & the Mother
OR
This That & the Mother?
They are probably both already being used (or about to be), but I'm open for suggestions too.
I've just seen so many cool blog names. I just want to be cool. And cute. And have *amazing* legs...wait...what was I saying? Just nothing weird like "Moonbeam," okay?
Thanks,
Reece
Monday, July 14, 2008
I Am So 15!
So this morn, I get a text from my sis, (age 25), at it goes a little something like this:
The New Kids On The Block are back together lol! New song called Summertime!! I can't stop laughing. u have 2 c the video :)
First off, I am quite aware they are back together. I have two girlies under the age of 8, so Disney Channel Radio is on all the time, and so is that song, "Summertime." My girls LOVE it. I *never* would have imagined, when I was 15, that I'd be sitting in the mall parking lot, listening to NKOTB with my girls. Never. Back then I was too busy ripping posters out of Teen Beat and rewinding my VCR and pausing at just the right spot. Frankly I'm a little embarrassed for the boys now. I mean, have you heard the lyrics to this song? Aren't they like MY age? Like very close to um...40 or something? Didn't someone tell them?
BUT, after getting that text, of course I had to find and watch the video on You Tube. Immediately. Cuz my sis told me to. So my girls and I spend a good chunk of the morn watching MANY NKOTB videos. I could. not. stop. It was like a bunch of their old videos. I found myself smiling, getting giddy watching these videos (What the heck?)...I KNOW! How do I go from Foo Fighters to NKOTB within days? How does this happen? I don't know what to say, except I'm obviously a very complicated girl. It's just that I LOVED these boys when I was 15. I don't need to get into detail, but I seriously would have been one of those girls at their concert bawling my eyes out (as we were watching "Hanging Tough," my girls asked me why girls were crying in the audience. Through tears, I answered, "They do it for love girls, love.")
I loved all the boys. I spent an entire summer writing each of them (minus Jordan, my best friend declared him hers, all hers). Declaring my love. All summer, every day...letters to the NKOTB. I think I got a postcard back. I didn't care...they were MY BOYS. Wait, I wasn't gonna get into detail. But it's okay, I'm 35 (35), and secure in my maturEDness. Hey...I'm fun. Let's just say that. So yeah, I'm afraid, very afraid, that I *might* be persuaded to go see them in concert. I KNOW...OMG...do *not* tell anyone. But my sister is very persuasive. I fear I'm one text message away from it. I'm highly impressionable. My sis did get us hooked on High School Musical in a big way, can you say COUNTDOWN until October when HSM3 comes out? That's right.
So yeah...that 15-yr-old in me made her appearance this morning and I fear that she is just nothing but t.r.o.u.b.l.e. She usually is.
For your viewing pleasure I have added a You Tube reel thingy at the bottom of the screen of various NKOTB videos. I know. You can thank me later (send See's Vanilla Butter cream, dark chocolates, please). Seriously. Go have a look see. Cry a little. Nobody has to know.
**Don't forget to pause my play list thingy so you can hear the boys.
The New Kids On The Block are back together lol! New song called Summertime!! I can't stop laughing. u have 2 c the video :)
First off, I am quite aware they are back together. I have two girlies under the age of 8, so Disney Channel Radio is on all the time, and so is that song, "Summertime." My girls LOVE it. I *never* would have imagined, when I was 15, that I'd be sitting in the mall parking lot, listening to NKOTB with my girls. Never. Back then I was too busy ripping posters out of Teen Beat and rewinding my VCR and pausing at just the right spot. Frankly I'm a little embarrassed for the boys now. I mean, have you heard the lyrics to this song? Aren't they like MY age? Like very close to um...40 or something? Didn't someone tell them?
BUT, after getting that text, of course I had to find and watch the video on You Tube. Immediately. Cuz my sis told me to. So my girls and I spend a good chunk of the morn watching MANY NKOTB videos. I could. not. stop. It was like a bunch of their old videos. I found myself smiling, getting giddy watching these videos (What the heck?)...I KNOW! How do I go from Foo Fighters to NKOTB within days? How does this happen? I don't know what to say, except I'm obviously a very complicated girl. It's just that I LOVED these boys when I was 15. I don't need to get into detail, but I seriously would have been one of those girls at their concert bawling my eyes out (as we were watching "Hanging Tough," my girls asked me why girls were crying in the audience. Through tears, I answered, "They do it for love girls, love.")
I loved all the boys. I spent an entire summer writing each of them (minus Jordan, my best friend declared him hers, all hers). Declaring my love. All summer, every day...letters to the NKOTB. I think I got a postcard back. I didn't care...they were MY BOYS. Wait, I wasn't gonna get into detail. But it's okay, I'm 35 (35), and secure in my maturEDness. Hey...I'm fun. Let's just say that. So yeah, I'm afraid, very afraid, that I *might* be persuaded to go see them in concert. I KNOW...OMG...do *not* tell anyone. But my sister is very persuasive. I fear I'm one text message away from it. I'm highly impressionable. My sis did get us hooked on High School Musical in a big way, can you say COUNTDOWN until October when HSM3 comes out? That's right.
So yeah...that 15-yr-old in me made her appearance this morning and I fear that she is just nothing but t.r.o.u.b.l.e. She usually is.
For your viewing pleasure I have added a You Tube reel thingy at the bottom of the screen of various NKOTB videos. I know. You can thank me later (send See's Vanilla Butter cream, dark chocolates, please). Seriously. Go have a look see. Cry a little. Nobody has to know.
**Don't forget to pause my play list thingy so you can hear the boys.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
I'd Like To Thank The Fans
Just wanted to let you know that I've spent the last hour trying to get back on the Comment Train. I swear I haven't forgotten about you and I promise that I don't take my comments for granted. It's just that I have these two little girls that just never. stop. talking. And showing me things like their entire dance routine three times in a row, cuz I looked away for a half a second, so they had to "start from the beginning". And paper cuts (then it takes me a good 13 minutes to find a band-aid, and then another, cuz the first one got stuck on itself). Then there's the whole feeding and clothing them. There's always drama there. And as soon as I think I have a minute to myself, I hear the, "Momma, momma, momma, momma, momma!" And it's always something very urgent, like A-girl is breathing on L. SO, my moments on here are fleeting and full of typos.
But just so you know, I don't forget about y'all. I come back. I take whatever free time I have and check out your blogs and comment back to you either on your bloggie or mine. So don't forget to come back and read my comments back to you (cuz you're not busy or anything either, are you?). Cuz you are very important to me. I promise. I think about you when I'm not here. I promise. So, I'm back on the Comment Train (though I lost one flip flop when I was jumping in the door at the last minute). I might be late, and one flip flop less, but I promise to say something. And thanks for saying something to me too. It's nice.
But just so you know, I don't forget about y'all. I come back. I take whatever free time I have and check out your blogs and comment back to you either on your bloggie or mine. So don't forget to come back and read my comments back to you (cuz you're not busy or anything either, are you?). Cuz you are very important to me. I promise. I think about you when I'm not here. I promise. So, I'm back on the Comment Train (though I lost one flip flop when I was jumping in the door at the last minute). I might be late, and one flip flop less, but I promise to say something. And thanks for saying something to me too. It's nice.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Hubby Rockin' At Foo Fighters
To participate in Friday's Foto Finish Fiesta (and you must, you must), go to:
http://carriestuckmann.blogspot.com/
Best Triangle Solo Ever!
I'm totally cooler than I thought I was. We went to see Foo Fighters last night, per hubby's request. I totally tried with all my might to make it a "Guy's Night," but that didn't work out. Momma had to go. It's just that I couldn't even remember ONE song Foo Fighters sang and even worse, couldn't imagine even what they looked like (I'm very visual--it helps). It's kind of out of my usual Josh Groban, Coldplay, Crowded House, Wiggles play list. I know. So I was a little lost and I feared it would be REALLY loud and long. And it was. BUT it was out without the kids and that is all good.
So the show starts at 7:00 p.m. And when the first warm up band comes on (Minus the Bear), I got busy text messaging my girlfriend, cuz I was b.o.r.e.d. Already. I know. It was really loud and screechy. I thought I left my girls at home. I needed something to do. Nachos? No, but the nachos of the guy sitting behind me did smell wonderful. So I check out the crowd. We are an interesting bunch. We've got the teeny rockers (with their mom's hiding out by the sound booth) all the way up to the 60-yr-old Harley riding (he had a "Sturgis" shirt on) rocker. So I text message and send girlfriend loud, screechy concert blurps so she can feel my pain. I believe it went a little something like this: Help.
So by the time the second band started playing (Supergrass), I started warming up to the idea. The drummer had on THE COOLEST red pants. That drew me in. And they had accents. Always a good thing. However, I'm still old and very motherly, sitting up in the nosebleed seats. Still haven't made my "I'm cooler than I thought" metamorphose. I'm giving the stink eye to the kids (and one 40-yr-old man child) down in the mosh pit. That man child is starting to make me mad. He took his shirt off and keeps nailing 14-yr-old kids in the head with his elbow. I know that's what you do in a mosh pit. That's the point, but I'm still being the mom way up there. Man child ignores me. So I try to focus on the band, and cat call to the drummer (I'm sure he can hear me), cuz he just looks flipping cool in those red pants. I like him. I'm starting to adapt to the whole atmosphere. Blossom, if you can say that at a rock concert.
Finally, Foo Fighters come out. Right from the get go, it was amazing. I'm getting cooler by the second. That boy can scream. Hubby is in H.E.A.V.E.N. He doesn't have the lung capacity of Dave Grohl, but he's reeeally trying to keep up. I don't even recognize my hubby. I love the fact that after being with him for 15 years now, I've just learned something about him. He likes to rock. Awesome.
I'm actually liking this. No, loving it. We stand THE ENTIRE concert. Everyone does. They played for over 3 hours (not including the other bands). They came back out for an encore and played 5 more songs! They played foooooorever. Itwasawesome! We got in the car at 11:27 pm. to go home. I've never danced my arse off in such a small area in my life. I think they played like 30 songs. And I actually knew about 6 songs. Two of which I have immediately added to my play list. I was a Foo Fighters fan all along. Who knew? So from the first concert to now...I have morphed from the bored, text-messaging, stink-eye givin', 35-yr-old, OLD lady up in the nosebleed seats, to a 19-yr-old girl (it was a good year) who can rock until the wee hours of the morning and cat call like a mothaah. Plus I'm pretty sure Dave looked at me more than once. Very exciting. I got cool. And sweaty. And I lost my voice.
So a few highlights, cuz this just t'aint long enough:
* My sister, Star, was sitting two rows in front of us, jamming her arse off with her laptop. No lie. Okay, it wasn't my sister, but it sure looked like her, and she did have her laptop. I've never seen that before at a concert.
*We got a good whiff of some mariJUana up in the nosebleed seats. I was like, "Ooooh...I smell incense...you smell that, hun?" He looked at my naive self and said, "That's pot." Then I go on to say, "Ooooooh, is it part of the show?...Like FF are making it smeeeeell like pot?" Hubby looks at me (blink blink blink) and says, " No." I wasn't cool at that point of the concert.
*Dave has the same hairstyle as I do.
*A surprise second stage they brought down from the sky, for the "sucky seats"...it was so cool to hear Dave say "sucky seats," he has a thing with "S's". But that was cool of them to do. To think of the little people in the "ssssssucky sssssseatssss".
*Then there was the triangle solo. Dave was introducing the band and everyone would do a little solo thingy. Then he got to the triangle player (I think he was actually a percussionist--had a huge xylophone...I know. Oh, and they also had a violinist. Awesome.) And Dave was teasing the boy about being a 38-yr-old triangle player. And the crowd went wiiiild. Dave goes, "Oh my God, I think they want a triangle solo." So a triangle solo we got. And it was good. Very good. I was shocked. Apparently they rehearsed that baby. It was seriously the "best" triangle solo I've ever heard! The only one I've ever heard, but still. Totally didn't know we were getting that when we bought the tickets!
So yeah. It was awesome. And even though Dave liked to say the "F" word (he reeeeally liked to say the "F" word--it's his favorite), and all that noise has caused permanent hearing loss, and my legs are very upset with me this morn that I stood in one spot for 4 1/2 hours straight, I had a great time. A rockin' time, you might say. I even told hubby so. He didn't hear me, but I think he could feel me. Feel the Foo Fighter happiness oozing from my 19-yr-old body. A good time was had. Thank you Foo Fighters! You most definitely do rock us all night long (we did "love you long time"--Dave said that).
**P.S. I know you need the paragraph breaks and all, but again, I have to remind you of my lack of computer skills...or my lack of figuring out Blogspot's editing options. Every time I add a pic, it messes up my post! Muy frustrating, but just know that I am aware.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I Love MY Library
I have a regular play date with a friend of mine. One of my favorite things about the play date is that my friend makes an awesome egg salad sandwich. I loooove egg salad sandwiches. I never make them. And every time I have one of her amazing sandwiches, I smack myself in the head and go, "Oh yeah...egg salad." Despite the fact that I frequently make emergency PB&J trips to the store, yet always have eggs and mayo in the fridge, I still manage to forget about making egg salad. And I seem to only remember about it when I go for the play date.
The other day we celebrated hubby's grandma's bday. Hubb's mom made an upside down pineapple cake--you know with the four pineapple slices on top and the cherry in the middle. It was to. die. for. All moist and buttery. Like the best part is at the edges where the butter and pineapple get all crusty and delicious. It's such a good cake. Probably one of my favorites. I never remember it though. I always think..."Man, I should make this." But I never do. I just forget about it.
Then at the BBQ we went to the other day, this GREAT song came on...Like it was one of those oldies but goodies that you immediately say out loud, " Oh, I love this song!" (I think it was U2 or Simply Red, or O.M.D.)and proceed to get your bootie out of the lawn chair and dance to it in front of everyone. Well, you and the host of the party, cuz she has said out loud how much she loves it too. I never remember I have the CD, despite having it stashed away in the back of my TV armoire. And then I forget about it, until I hear it again, in the waiting room at the dentist and vow to get that sucker out and listen to it when I get home. But forget.
So my girls have really been getting into the reading this summer. Chapter books. Big time. Can you say, "Junie B. Jones"? I'm so proud, cuz I am a dedicated reader. I love to see my oldest reading before bed, because "it settles" her (that's what I say). I love to hear her yell at the top of her lungs from upstairs, "I finished it!" She's read through all her Junie B. books and her Beverly Clearly and Nancy Drew's and she wants more, more, mooore! So it occurs to me, that maybe I should take her to the library. I loooove the library. I grew up on library books. My grandma was a librarian, so the reading was always encouraged. She was good about having a new stack of library books waiting for us on her fireplace every time we would go over to her house. It's one of my favorite memories. And the book mobile. Remember the book mobile? A traveling library. Genius.
Words are like food to me. I love the smell of books, that first whiff, when you open one up. The sound of the "crack" of a new one being opened for the first time. I love the black and white. I love losing myself within the pages, in the lives of the characters. I love falling asleep with the light on, book sprawled open over my arm. Falling asleep mid-sentence.
I forget about the library. The turn of the last page of the current book I'm reading and the call of Starbucks draws me to the Barnes and Noble, the Borders. I love the little hole-in-the wall bookstores too. The local artists. Love that. I feel an urgency when I finish a book. I must have another. I must go buy one immediately. I forget the library. Of course, it's free.
But I remembered today. And somehow, all the planets aligned just right and I was able to go alone to the library today. Bliss. I went to the children's section first. I picked out about 25 chapter books, and a couple glossy picture books on bike safety (it's become an issue), street safety (issue), and a book all about money (always an issue). To help teach the girlies about the value of the dollar. I think I need to read this one too. Gas prices and all, you'd think I'd remember the library a long time ago. Of course, there's the late fees. But today, I had an old late charge still due, that was for $8.25. I can't even remember the last time we went to the library, but it had to be at least six months ago. Still way cheaper than a new book. And you can check out an insane number of books. And CD's. AND movies. (Smacks self in head)
So my point is (what is my point exactly?)... Remember the library. It will save you money. The egg salad sandwich, upside down pineapple cake and U2 CD will make you happy. Well, it will make me happy. If I remember.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Bring On The Fireworks Already
I'm going to begin this with asking, how was your fourth of July? I hope it was fun, filled with family, friends, good BBQ, traditions and fireworks. As it should be. Ours was fun over here. We spent it with friends. One of the mom's from A-girl's preschool invited us over for a BBQ. We gladly accepted the invite, as I really like this mom. She's fun, funny and a talker. So we went and it was fantastic. We knew all of four people (there was one other family from preschool there), but their (85) friends were nice, the food was awesome and their back yard was amazing. Her hubby is a builder and does landscape. They just finished their back yard and it was a mini-paradise. Fun for adults and kids alike. For seven hours we barely knew we even had kids. They were so entertained. Us too. It was relaxing. It was good to meet new people. To talk with other grown ups about grown up things. It was good. But there was about twenty-five minutes where it was very not good.
Enter A-girl. These people throw a good party. I mentioned that right? There were about 50 kiddos there and the mom/host was very good at having the kid stuff (trampoline, club house, s'mores...). She had goodie bags. Filled to the brim, goodie bags. The kids couldn't believe their luck. And in these bags were those big punching balloons. Of various colors. Each bag had a different color balloon in it. So at some point, about 5 1/2 hours, 5 cookies, two pieces of cake, 3 Jell-O stars, 8 Capri-Suns, and one hot dog, into our party experience A-girl brings a blue balloon over to hubby and asks him to blow it up. By the time he blew it up, A-girl was off and running again, totally forgetting about the blue balloon. Hubby set it aside, as she would eventually be back for it.
So about 15 minutes later, we hear the very much dreaded fire-engine cry of A-girl. It is the cry hubby and I would instantly recognize in a crowd of 500. I am shaken from my grown up/I'm-pretending-I-don't-have-kids-at-the-moment, bliss to the instant...Oh-no-I'm-sure-my-kid-just-fell-off-the-trampoline mode. I find her within seconds...It is the little blonde, red-faced, head tilted back, screaming to the high heavens, that lets me know it's her. She and another little girl are "playing" tug-a-war with a yellow balloon. Instantly, I know this is what A-girl is screaming bloody murder over. I run over to smooth out the situation, as time has stopped, the BBQ crowd is at a hush and I believe even the music was off. All you could hear was the snotty, ear-pounding, and yes, I'm saying it again...fire-engine (it's the perfect description) cry of my dear, sweet, precious 5-yr-old.
I gently remind her that her balloon is the blue one..."See, daddy has it...remember?" I'm rubbing her back, praying that this will do it. But she doesn't hear me. She's in another world, where yellow balloons are everything. Apparently your life is defined by yellow balloons. I hand the yellow balloon to the other girl and try to send her off so I can deal with this. A-girl is having an out-of-body tantrum right before my very eyes. She will not let up. I pull her to aside, trying to will A-girl and I invisible. I'm trying to talk her down. Reminding her to breathe. She. will. not. let. up. My usual tantrum tactics are not working. I left my mom superpowers at home. I hate when I do that. I'm actually stunned at her show. I'm starting to feel like a deer caught in (tantrum) headlights. The little girl brings over the yellow balloon and tries to hand it over to A-girl (as she is still) screaming her head off...snot running down to her toes. How flipping sweet of this girl to give A-girl the balloon now. Of course, she is so not getting it, cuz she is mid-breakdown, still on Yellow Balloon Island. I'm so not giving her that yellow balloon. Ever. I have a point to prove.
So finally I pick up my wailing, flailing, very slippery 5-yr-old (isn't she a little OLD to be behaving this way??), and attempt to carry her in the house. Which is impossible, cuz she's FIVE and heavy and flipping out (WHERE is my hubby...oh, I see him there sitting by the fire pit, observing...). Somehow, I get her through the crowd and in the house. Into the bathroom to get my Mom Voice out. Cuz, I've had just about enough of THIS. So I'm in the bathroom with her explaining the situation. Her choices. That the yellow balloon is out of the picture. This stuff usually works. Usually. Then the bathroom door opens and in walks little girl with yellow balloon. A-flippin-gain. I was making progress in here! So I send (shove) the little girl out of the bathroom w/yellow balloon (and don't come back!). It starts all over.
Now I take her upstairs to one of the kiddo's room. Time Out. The girl needs to get it together. Seriously. I'm starting to sweat. I hate fire-engines. Choices. You know the "We can leave or you can move on and most definitely NOT have the yellow balloon" bit. She just can't fathom not having that (damn) yellow balloon. I know I'm supposed to pick my battles. I know some of you have already given her the (damn) yellow balloon, before we even came in the house. It's the flipping 4th of July already! The fireworks are in 20 minutes! I know, I feel you! BUT...this is so not about a flipping yellow balloon. I don't flipping CARE about the yellow balloon. It's about the fire-engine. The out-of-body tantrum I am witnessing. The fact that out of 50 kiddos, mine is the one having the absolute FIT.
Finally, somehow (somehow God heard me) she is breathing normal again. She's still mad, but she finally gets it together enough to decide she wants to stay. So we walk (she stomps, in very dramatic fashion, which at home would be a big flipping no-no, but I am totally spent) back out to join the festivities. I totally feel like crying. I don't feel a parental victory. I feel like weeping. That sucked. I. have. never. No seriously. This is new. We have the meltdowns, p.l.e.n.t.y., but this sort of tantrum is very new. So I dissolve down into the lawn chair next to my hubby. He looks pleased. I think he even gave me a thumbs up. Frick. So I span the yard, looking for the girls. I'm on total mom-alert now. And what do I see? A-girl in yellow balloon bliss. That's right. She has the yellow balloon.
I need wine. Right now! Someone get me some flipping wine! Shocked into action, hubby brings me two plastic cups of wine. I take them, sitting in the lawn chair. One in each hand. And. give. up. Who the flip cares. Bring on the fireworks already.
Enter A-girl. These people throw a good party. I mentioned that right? There were about 50 kiddos there and the mom/host was very good at having the kid stuff (trampoline, club house, s'mores...). She had goodie bags. Filled to the brim, goodie bags. The kids couldn't believe their luck. And in these bags were those big punching balloons. Of various colors. Each bag had a different color balloon in it. So at some point, about 5 1/2 hours, 5 cookies, two pieces of cake, 3 Jell-O stars, 8 Capri-Suns, and one hot dog, into our party experience A-girl brings a blue balloon over to hubby and asks him to blow it up. By the time he blew it up, A-girl was off and running again, totally forgetting about the blue balloon. Hubby set it aside, as she would eventually be back for it.
So about 15 minutes later, we hear the very much dreaded fire-engine cry of A-girl. It is the cry hubby and I would instantly recognize in a crowd of 500. I am shaken from my grown up/I'm-pretending-I-don't-have-kids-at-the-moment, bliss to the instant...Oh-no-I'm-sure-my-kid-just-fell-off-the-trampoline mode. I find her within seconds...It is the little blonde, red-faced, head tilted back, screaming to the high heavens, that lets me know it's her. She and another little girl are "playing" tug-a-war with a yellow balloon. Instantly, I know this is what A-girl is screaming bloody murder over. I run over to smooth out the situation, as time has stopped, the BBQ crowd is at a hush and I believe even the music was off. All you could hear was the snotty, ear-pounding, and yes, I'm saying it again...fire-engine (it's the perfect description) cry of my dear, sweet, precious 5-yr-old.
I gently remind her that her balloon is the blue one..."See, daddy has it...remember?" I'm rubbing her back, praying that this will do it. But she doesn't hear me. She's in another world, where yellow balloons are everything. Apparently your life is defined by yellow balloons. I hand the yellow balloon to the other girl and try to send her off so I can deal with this. A-girl is having an out-of-body tantrum right before my very eyes. She will not let up. I pull her to aside, trying to will A-girl and I invisible. I'm trying to talk her down. Reminding her to breathe. She. will. not. let. up. My usual tantrum tactics are not working. I left my mom superpowers at home. I hate when I do that. I'm actually stunned at her show. I'm starting to feel like a deer caught in (tantrum) headlights. The little girl brings over the yellow balloon and tries to hand it over to A-girl (as she is still) screaming her head off...snot running down to her toes. How flipping sweet of this girl to give A-girl the balloon now. Of course, she is so not getting it, cuz she is mid-breakdown, still on Yellow Balloon Island. I'm so not giving her that yellow balloon. Ever. I have a point to prove.
So finally I pick up my wailing, flailing, very slippery 5-yr-old (isn't she a little OLD to be behaving this way??), and attempt to carry her in the house. Which is impossible, cuz she's FIVE and heavy and flipping out (WHERE is my hubby...oh, I see him there sitting by the fire pit, observing...). Somehow, I get her through the crowd and in the house. Into the bathroom to get my Mom Voice out. Cuz, I've had just about enough of THIS. So I'm in the bathroom with her explaining the situation. Her choices. That the yellow balloon is out of the picture. This stuff usually works. Usually. Then the bathroom door opens and in walks little girl with yellow balloon. A-flippin-gain. I was making progress in here! So I send (shove) the little girl out of the bathroom w/yellow balloon (and don't come back!). It starts all over.
Now I take her upstairs to one of the kiddo's room. Time Out. The girl needs to get it together. Seriously. I'm starting to sweat. I hate fire-engines. Choices. You know the "We can leave or you can move on and most definitely NOT have the yellow balloon" bit. She just can't fathom not having that (damn) yellow balloon. I know I'm supposed to pick my battles. I know some of you have already given her the (damn) yellow balloon, before we even came in the house. It's the flipping 4th of July already! The fireworks are in 20 minutes! I know, I feel you! BUT...this is so not about a flipping yellow balloon. I don't flipping CARE about the yellow balloon. It's about the fire-engine. The out-of-body tantrum I am witnessing. The fact that out of 50 kiddos, mine is the one having the absolute FIT.
Finally, somehow (somehow God heard me) she is breathing normal again. She's still mad, but she finally gets it together enough to decide she wants to stay. So we walk (she stomps, in very dramatic fashion, which at home would be a big flipping no-no, but I am totally spent) back out to join the festivities. I totally feel like crying. I don't feel a parental victory. I feel like weeping. That sucked. I. have. never. No seriously. This is new. We have the meltdowns, p.l.e.n.t.y., but this sort of tantrum is very new. So I dissolve down into the lawn chair next to my hubby. He looks pleased. I think he even gave me a thumbs up. Frick. So I span the yard, looking for the girls. I'm on total mom-alert now. And what do I see? A-girl in yellow balloon bliss. That's right. She has the yellow balloon.
I need wine. Right now! Someone get me some flipping wine! Shocked into action, hubby brings me two plastic cups of wine. I take them, sitting in the lawn chair. One in each hand. And. give. up. Who the flip cares. Bring on the fireworks already.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
It's Been A Long Time
I had a dream about my mom last night. My real mom. And I only say the "real" part, cuz in previous posts I've referred to my "mom" and I've been talking about my step mom. Are you confused? My step mom has been with us since I was nine and though we've been through some rough times, she's one of my best friends now and I do call her "mom". I just felt like I had to explain that real quick.
So I had a dream about my real mom last night. It's the second dream I've had about her since she passed away twenty-three years ago. The second dream. So it's a big dealie to me. I almost just wrote it down in my journal, and I still will, but I think it's something I needed to bring over here too. This is therapy, you know.
I get pretty upset that I don't dream about her more, cuz I'm a very big dreamer. A vivid, real-life dreamer. I can read words in my dreams (which is a big dealie, apparently). I dream about everything and everyone. I have all-night-long dreams about people I don't even know, have never met. But I don't dream about her. She's who I want to dream about. I haven't seen her since I was eleven. It's been a long time.
She passed away at the age of thirty-six from complications related to diabetes. She was a sick woman. She had been completely blind since the age of twenty-three. She never saw my sister and I. But she knew everything about us. Despite her illness, how very sick she was for my childhood, she was a mom. She loved us with every cell of her body. Every breath. She was very good at loving.
There are certain things I remember about her. Her laugh. She cackled. Her hair. It was chestnut brown, straight and long. Her eyes. She had one green eye, and one blue. She loved buttered saltine crackers in the middle of the night. She played the guitar. She had beautiful, tan, creamy skin. She believed in Jesus. I know where she is now. There's more. I remember my childhood very clearly. I feel like it's a gift. I am grateful for it.
My dream about her was sweet. She was still blind, and in a wheelchair. But she was beautiful. In my dream, I just could not take my eyes off her face. Her smile. I don't remember our conversation in the dream (or maybe it just hasn't come to me yet...I haven't really let myself remember it yet), but I remember her face. And for now, that's all I want.
So I had a dream about my real mom last night. It's the second dream I've had about her since she passed away twenty-three years ago. The second dream. So it's a big dealie to me. I almost just wrote it down in my journal, and I still will, but I think it's something I needed to bring over here too. This is therapy, you know.
I get pretty upset that I don't dream about her more, cuz I'm a very big dreamer. A vivid, real-life dreamer. I can read words in my dreams (which is a big dealie, apparently). I dream about everything and everyone. I have all-night-long dreams about people I don't even know, have never met. But I don't dream about her. She's who I want to dream about. I haven't seen her since I was eleven. It's been a long time.
She passed away at the age of thirty-six from complications related to diabetes. She was a sick woman. She had been completely blind since the age of twenty-three. She never saw my sister and I. But she knew everything about us. Despite her illness, how very sick she was for my childhood, she was a mom. She loved us with every cell of her body. Every breath. She was very good at loving.
There are certain things I remember about her. Her laugh. She cackled. Her hair. It was chestnut brown, straight and long. Her eyes. She had one green eye, and one blue. She loved buttered saltine crackers in the middle of the night. She played the guitar. She had beautiful, tan, creamy skin. She believed in Jesus. I know where she is now. There's more. I remember my childhood very clearly. I feel like it's a gift. I am grateful for it.
My dream about her was sweet. She was still blind, and in a wheelchair. But she was beautiful. In my dream, I just could not take my eyes off her face. Her smile. I don't remember our conversation in the dream (or maybe it just hasn't come to me yet...I haven't really let myself remember it yet), but I remember her face. And for now, that's all I want.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Friday's Foto Finish Fiesta
This is from a couple 4th of July's ago, but it's a good one. May we all be this happy for the fireworks and sparklers, hot dogs, burgers and fried chicken, Jell-O cheese cake (what I'm contributing today), watermelon, potato salad, corn on the cob, green grass, swimming pools, our military, our freedom and the good ol' red, white, and blue!
To participate in Friday's Foto Finish Fiesta (and you must, you must), go to:
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Not My Favorite Person
So I went to the dentist yesterday (yes, I tell you everything) and I'm just gonna say right now...I will not be crushing on my dentist for many reasons, but firstly...because he gave me five cavities, potentially 7.
I know! Can you even believe that? We are good about going regularly to the dentist. I take pride in my good dental hygiene. I'm a bit compulsive about the brushing and flossing. In fact I (lovingly) tease my hubby about his (lack of) dental hygiene given the fact that every time he goes to the dentist he has like four cavities. Every time. I lecture him that he should give up the pop, floss more, brush more...blah, blah, blah...preachy, is what I am. And when we take the girlies in, I am always so proud when they come out cavity free...obviously they got my genes in the dental department. Loving that.
So we've all been to the dentist recently. Hubby too (four cavities). I think he complained his mouth hurt later that evening (Suck it up, son, I think is what I said). Then it's my turn to go. It's our first time to the dentist since we've moved here. It's a nice place. Very fancy pants. And as we get into the exam, I realize they are way ahead of the game. They don't polish the teeth, they spray them clean. And they don't do the standard poke and prod routine of looking for cavities and receding gum lines, they use this lazer doo-hickey that looks inside the tooth. Catches stuff almost before it happens. Like catches cavities before you can even see them with the naked eye. Better than an X-Ray apparently. Like once you see a cavity by X-Ray, I guess it's pretty bad (I had to watch a video on this). Oooh, and this doo-hickey is painless. Loving that. But I'm confident that all will be well, cuz I haven't had a cavity since I was like ten. Seriously. I know. I'm totally confident I am getting a sticker when I leave. I'll pick a rainbow.
So they inform me that I have seven cavities. What'choo talking about, Willis??? You must be mistaken. Nope. They are not. It's the lazer doo-hickey! Darn technology! Darn you, I say! But the good news is that two of the seven cavities are not too bad and I can most likely reverse them with proper dental hygiene (Are you talking to me?), so I just need to get five of them babies filled. Yeah. What a relief.
So I go in yesterday to get all five filled. Though I'm completely miffed I have a handful of cavities, I am not too worried about going. The dentist has never been really a big dealie to me. I'm tough and besides, it's not like it's gonna hurt or anything. Not like I'm getting a root canal. I find comfort in the fact that I'll be in and out. Within the hour. Piece of cake. Or should I say banana?
Yeah...not quite how it happened. See, given the fact that I haven't had a cavity since Michael Jackson was singing Beat It, I forgot that it does flipping hurt. That there are shots involved. In my case four shots. In my mouth. Granted, they numbed me up good, but still...shots in my mouth! They were nice enough to let me pick out a CD and handed over the headphones. I picked Shania Twain...she's good about taking me somewhere else and I so needed to go somewhere else. Then they hand me the sunglasses. Protection. And then I heard the word, "marathon". They were referring to my teeth...all that work they were about to do all at once. Okay, Shania...take me away.
So the dentist comes in and totally gets straight to work. He actually lowers the chair almost all the way to the ground (it feels like) and then puts the head part way, way, way lower than the feet part. So I'm basically standing on my head. Are you picturing this? Don't forget my headphones and sunglasses. And then I proceed to hold my mouth open for an hour. Wide. Can you say lock jaw? Yeah, I don't have a really big mouth (despite what you might have heard), so opening wide is kind of...um painful. Like at one point I think I had the tears. Not from the shots, or the drilling or anything really having to do with my teeth, but because my jaw hurt so bad. Like I was curling my toes, it hurt so bad (uncle, uncle, UNCLE!!!).
Okay, so you are picturing me standing on my head, mouth a-gape, sunglasses, chunky headphones, right? It gets better. They add this "teeth dam"...which is like this piece of latex thingy that they put over your mouth, and specifically over the one tooth they are working on at the time. Isolates the tooth. It covers your whole mouth (held in place with some metal thingy), so things don't fall in your mouth, down your throat etc...(what things?). So I'm feeling very Silence of the Lambs. I can't imagine what the flip is next. But I was almost wishing I could take a picture of this scene, cuz I feel you won't believe me. I was writing this post in my head (there were more swear words involved though), cuz Shania wasn't working her magic. I decided that a picture would be a bad idea though. I don't want you to remember me that way.
So an hour later. Yes, it was only an hour. Marathon. I have a whole new mouth. I have to say, it looks good (they showed me before and after pics). Once I got that dam off, got the blood flowing back dooooown my body and could actually close my mouth, I was feeling pretty good. I think I even said, "Thank you" to them. How could I?
So I won't be preaching to my hubby now about the cavities. I apologized. I have empathy now for him. I have learned something. Which is good. I am a little miffed I didn't get my rainbow sticker though.
I know! Can you even believe that? We are good about going regularly to the dentist. I take pride in my good dental hygiene. I'm a bit compulsive about the brushing and flossing. In fact I (lovingly) tease my hubby about his (lack of) dental hygiene given the fact that every time he goes to the dentist he has like four cavities. Every time. I lecture him that he should give up the pop, floss more, brush more...blah, blah, blah...preachy, is what I am. And when we take the girlies in, I am always so proud when they come out cavity free...obviously they got my genes in the dental department. Loving that.
So we've all been to the dentist recently. Hubby too (four cavities). I think he complained his mouth hurt later that evening (Suck it up, son, I think is what I said). Then it's my turn to go. It's our first time to the dentist since we've moved here. It's a nice place. Very fancy pants. And as we get into the exam, I realize they are way ahead of the game. They don't polish the teeth, they spray them clean. And they don't do the standard poke and prod routine of looking for cavities and receding gum lines, they use this lazer doo-hickey that looks inside the tooth. Catches stuff almost before it happens. Like catches cavities before you can even see them with the naked eye. Better than an X-Ray apparently. Like once you see a cavity by X-Ray, I guess it's pretty bad (I had to watch a video on this). Oooh, and this doo-hickey is painless. Loving that. But I'm confident that all will be well, cuz I haven't had a cavity since I was like ten. Seriously. I know. I'm totally confident I am getting a sticker when I leave. I'll pick a rainbow.
So they inform me that I have seven cavities. What'choo talking about, Willis??? You must be mistaken. Nope. They are not. It's the lazer doo-hickey! Darn technology! Darn you, I say! But the good news is that two of the seven cavities are not too bad and I can most likely reverse them with proper dental hygiene (Are you talking to me?), so I just need to get five of them babies filled. Yeah. What a relief.
So I go in yesterday to get all five filled. Though I'm completely miffed I have a handful of cavities, I am not too worried about going. The dentist has never been really a big dealie to me. I'm tough and besides, it's not like it's gonna hurt or anything. Not like I'm getting a root canal. I find comfort in the fact that I'll be in and out. Within the hour. Piece of cake. Or should I say banana?
Yeah...not quite how it happened. See, given the fact that I haven't had a cavity since Michael Jackson was singing Beat It, I forgot that it does flipping hurt. That there are shots involved. In my case four shots. In my mouth. Granted, they numbed me up good, but still...shots in my mouth! They were nice enough to let me pick out a CD and handed over the headphones. I picked Shania Twain...she's good about taking me somewhere else and I so needed to go somewhere else. Then they hand me the sunglasses. Protection. And then I heard the word, "marathon". They were referring to my teeth...all that work they were about to do all at once. Okay, Shania...take me away.
So the dentist comes in and totally gets straight to work. He actually lowers the chair almost all the way to the ground (it feels like) and then puts the head part way, way, way lower than the feet part. So I'm basically standing on my head. Are you picturing this? Don't forget my headphones and sunglasses. And then I proceed to hold my mouth open for an hour. Wide. Can you say lock jaw? Yeah, I don't have a really big mouth (despite what you might have heard), so opening wide is kind of...um painful. Like at one point I think I had the tears. Not from the shots, or the drilling or anything really having to do with my teeth, but because my jaw hurt so bad. Like I was curling my toes, it hurt so bad (uncle, uncle, UNCLE!!!).
Okay, so you are picturing me standing on my head, mouth a-gape, sunglasses, chunky headphones, right? It gets better. They add this "teeth dam"...which is like this piece of latex thingy that they put over your mouth, and specifically over the one tooth they are working on at the time. Isolates the tooth. It covers your whole mouth (held in place with some metal thingy), so things don't fall in your mouth, down your throat etc...(what things?). So I'm feeling very Silence of the Lambs. I can't imagine what the flip is next. But I was almost wishing I could take a picture of this scene, cuz I feel you won't believe me. I was writing this post in my head (there were more swear words involved though), cuz Shania wasn't working her magic. I decided that a picture would be a bad idea though. I don't want you to remember me that way.
So an hour later. Yes, it was only an hour. Marathon. I have a whole new mouth. I have to say, it looks good (they showed me before and after pics). Once I got that dam off, got the blood flowing back dooooown my body and could actually close my mouth, I was feeling pretty good. I think I even said, "Thank you" to them. How could I?
So I won't be preaching to my hubby now about the cavities. I apologized. I have empathy now for him. I have learned something. Which is good. I am a little miffed I didn't get my rainbow sticker though.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Jacuzzi In The Room
Apparently I was in dire need of a getaway with my hubby, leaving my precious kiddos, the dog and cat (and litter box) home with grandma. Last Friday, I went in for an MRI on my achey breaky heart. Don't worry folks, I'm gonna live, but it had to be done. So anyway, you know it's bad when you actually enjoyed laying inside that (let me get a little morbid here) coffin shaped mini-construction site sounding tunnel of not-love for an hour and a half. You know it's bad when you can't move at all for that long too. You know it's bad, that when it was time to come out of that claustrophobia inducing space capsule, you were a little bit disappointed. Lil' bit. You think I would've slept in there. That's what hubby said to do. "Just sleep." First of all, I can't just sleep. He, however, can fall asleep mid-sentence--him doing the talking. I think I meditated though. I was definitely not "there". I'm thinking I was in Australia.
You know what it was? There was no kid noise. Kid noise is totally separate from every other kind of noise. If you're a parent, you know the difference. It's just constant. My oldest is going through a drumming phase. She drums on everything. She recently asked me, "How come you don't like to hear me drum?" I told her, "Because basically babe, it's loud." I go on to say, "When you are a drummer in a band some day, Momma will come hear you play every single time, but right now, sweet girl, it's just loud. Now run along and play with your Pet Shoppe."
Enter hubby. As you know, he planned a blessED retreat for us at the beach (Good Thing I'm Already "In" ). It was just what I needed (minus the spilled clam chowder in my lap). Him too (he's a busy guy). I think the last time we did that was...never. At least since we've had the girlies. Not a lot of alone time. Pre-kiddos we were probably too poor. We went camping. Slept in the back of the SUV...w/the dog. Yeah, totally not the same. Can you say...jacuzzi in the room?
So thanks hubbs. You did good. I thank you from the bottom of my achey breaky heart (don't worry folks, I'm fiiiiine, just being dramatic). We're gonna have to do that again (please?).
P.S. The pic is of me...what me looks like relaxed.
P.S.S. I realize you need a paragraph break in that monster of a first paragraph, but if I put a pic in, it gets all messed up and it won't let me. I totally need to take a class. Just so you know, I'm aware. :)
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