Thing 1: Mom?

{waits}

Thing 1: Mom?!

{tap tap tap}

{on my forehead}


Thing 1: MOM! Are you awake?

{tap tap tap}

{on my forehead}

{again}


Me: I am now. What do you want?

Thing 1: Can you take me to school today? I don't want to ride the bus.

Me: Wuh? What time is it?

Thing 1: It's 6am Mom and I don't want to ride the bus, can you take me?

Me: Uhh... Wuh.... Why?

Thing 1: It's raining, Mom, and I don't want to walk to the bus in the rain.

Me: Huh? What? Can't you just run out when the bus comes?

Thing 1: NO MOM! I'll get wet and I don't want to get wet.

Me: Seriously? Just run out when the bus comes. Maybe it won't be raining.

Thing 1: Please Mom. I don't want to get wet and the bus is all the way down there and my bag is heavy.

Me: Are you kidding me? The bus picks you up ACROSS THE STREET!

Thing 1: I'll get wet, Mom. Plleeeaaassseee?

{later}

{when I'm being a SUCKA and driving her to school}

Thing 1: Can you drop me off in the Seminary parking lot?

Me: Why?

Thing 1: So I won't get wet.

{My eye is twitching}

I'm a godmother, that's a great thing to be, a godmother. She calls me god for short, that's cute, I taught her that. - Ellen DeGeneres, My Point and I Do Have One

 I have been editing my photos from my vacation and this one is by far my  favorite. I know I've posted it already, but isn't it awesome? I think I need to blow it up gargantuan so I can stare at it all the live long day.

I just have one thing to say: I was meant to live on the beach. Not a hot beach, but a beach where it's 73 - 82.5 degrees year round. A place where I can sit in a chair with my sweatshirt and shorts, read a book, watch my kids build sandcastles and just veg.

Like forever.

When I was growing up I wanted to be a beach bum or a ski bum.  Which is weird because I HATE to be cold, but I love to fly through the trees on my skis.

I think, however, in my old age I am going to have to settle on the beach bum gig. I could be really happy waking up every morning to the sound of the waves crashing.

I'm sick of this desert stuff.  I mean, wouldn't YOU like to see that scene every single day? I know I would!


*****
 I think I have my niece and nephew convinced that I am the coolest person on the whole face of the planet. Which is nice since my family doesn't. They think I'm the meanest person in the whole universe.

It has taken a little work and some bribery but I think I have accomplished it.

My nephew told my sister once, when she told him NO, that he would just call me and ask me cause I would let him do it.

Which is good. And, bad.

My kids think I'm the Meanest Mom on the Planet, and my niece & nephew think I'm the coolest.

All IS right with the universe.

*****
School started this week.

Praise ba-jeesus.

That is all.

*****
I find it eerily creepy how well Pandora knows me.

It's like they have someone inside my brain, reading my mind and then picking songs for me to fall in love with. Every single time I log on.

What's up with that?

Pandora, I love you.

*****
I finished Mockingjay (The Final Book of The Hunger Games) the same day it came out.  I loved it and then didn't. Does that even make sense?

I absolutely loved the series . . . but I didn't love the end of this one.

When I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book 7), I closed the book, sighed and said "I loved this book!"  And then promptly started reading the whole series over again.

I didn't do that with  Mockingjay.

I felt like Collins tried to hard to keep it low in page numbers and ended the series too abruptly. She easily could have written another 100 pages and it would have made for a better ending.

Everyone was belly-aching about Stephanie Meyer, of the Twilight saga, needing a good, strong editor to cut out about 150 pages of his hard chiseled chest... and I think Collins had an editor that cut entirely too much out.

People said it was too violent, and I didn't think that, I just felt like it ended leaving too many questions unanswered and me seriously unsatisfied. 

Just my opinion.

I'm working on a review piece for it, and will post it later.

*****
I have had basically nothing to do for the last month and while it has been nice, I have found myself starting to slowly slip back into madness.

I have to have things to do or I go stark raving mad.

So now I'm investigating school.

There are some things I really want to learn how to do, and I don't have the patience to self teach. So, school it is.  We shall see if I can find just exactly what it is that I am looking for without having to travel to San Francisco to accomplish it.

Although, that might not be too bad . . .

*****
That's it for this week, folks.

I am thinking about making a page on the blog dedicated to my random 10 music lists.  I was thinking about it and it would be fun to be able to have one for each week's randomness.  That way I can link to the play list in the post and you can listen to what came up all random like that week.

I'll have to investigate players because sometimes projectplaylist.com doesn't have everything that I have. 

Which is a bummer for them, 'cause I gots me some good stuff!


Have a great one! It's supposed to be in the mid 70's next week.

Hallelujah!


1.  Trouble  -  Ray LaMontagne
2.  Waiting On An Angel  - Ben Harper
3.  Ain't No Reason - Brett Dennen
4.  Jails & Bombs  -  Amos Lee
5.  Can't Do A Thing - Chris Isaak
6.  How Am I To Be - The Watson Twins
7.  Sea of Love - Cat Powers
8.  Simple Life - The Weepies
9.  Weathered - Jane Weaver
10. Many The Miles - Sara Bareilles

Bonus: Grace Is Gone (Live from Vegas) - Dave Matthews

Moxie loves this book.

She reads it over and over and over again and gets so excited at the end when the cricket finds another cricket and they sing together.

Only now? She is ignoring the book because The Very Quiet Cricket is NOT very quiet anymore.

The book is broken.

It's shut and it is still cricketing. And chirping. And making buckets of noise that isn't so cute anymore.

It's been on going for over two hours now.

I'd throw it away, except Moxie wails the wail and I cave and dig it back out of the garbage. 

Stupid broken book.

Also? My dinner smells freakin' awesome!

Yesterday as I walked my children down the halls of school, helping them find their classes and friends, I saw  a lot of Mothers who were rather glum looking.  They were dragging their feet, and I actually heard some say they were sad to see their kids go back to school. 

I feel slightly guilty when I admit this, but I am not one of those Mothers.

It's not because I don't like my children, because heaven knows I am their biggest fan and I play paparazzi to them all the time.

It's not because I don't think it's easier to just have them all at home. Together. Under the same roof. Because I do think that. About little children.

It is way easier to have all your children at home, under your thumb when they are small and they want to be there with you.

Want. That's the key word. 

Give them hormones, never ending appetites and a tendency to sleep all day and play with their friends all night? It's not easier to have them all home. Nor do they want to be home.

I may have done a celebratory dance yesterday as I watched the big yellow bus haul them off to their new habitats. I sighed a heavy sigh of relief because my house will now stay clean longer than fifteen minutes; My groceries will last longer than thirty seconds; the laundry will be caught up because people will be back on their laundry schedules and people will actually have a bed time again.

Bed Time.

That is enough to cause me to sing the hallelujah chorus right there.

I suppose the real reason I'm glad school is back in session is because our schedule is back in place. I do better when everyone has a job to do and is actually doing it.

In all honesty I do prefer to be lazy and lounge around in the sun all day reading and munching; however, my house does not prefer that.

Summer has a tendency to be synonymous with messy, cluttered house.

And, while it's nice to be lazy and do nothing, two and half months of nothing has a tendency to make your home look like a nuclear testing ground.

Yesterday after I shipped the natives off, I got back to work.

I finished the laundry and it's totally 100% done.

{ I know. The world is coming to an end!} 

I called around and found someone to come and measure my house for carpet and hard wood floors.  Come hell or high water I am buying new carpet. Like tomorrow.

I steam cleaned the couches and washed the cushions.

I steam cleaned the air vents and vacuumed them out. 

I cleaned the baseboards on the main floor, dusted the whole house and vacuumed as well.

I cleaned the little girls room and cleaned out the linen closet too.

I pulled out all the old clothes that they don't wear and I'm taking them to the DI.  My sister is happy about that little venture because I found more than 35 pairs of jeans  that the kids and I have out grown (don't judge!) and she's ripping them up and making a quilt with them.

{One man's junk is another man's treasure}

Then I died.

My list today is just as long but it feels good to be back on a schedule where I know what is supposed to happen every single day. I know that my house will stay clean and that there is actually time for ME to finally do something that I like to do. 

Like blog.

Hallelujah and Welcome Back to School Everyone!

“Football is an honest game. It's true to life . It's a game about sharing. Football is a team game. So is life.” - Joe Namath



I have to admit that the first time I watched this, I got a little weepy. There is something about this time of year that makes my heart go pitter-patter. I love it-- I absolutely LOVE football.

My mind always reflects back the fall football games I would attend at my high school. I have a picture in my mind, and it's always the same: Of me looking east toward my high school football field. I can see those great big Maple Trees and the slightly red leaves blowing in the wind. I can see the announcers box and hear his voice echoing over the field. My mountains are turning red and the sun is starting to fall behind the school and is painting everything a brilliant shade of purple.

If I could find a photo that depicted that I would Gargantua size it, frame it and hang it on my wall. It brings such happy fou-fou feelings to my soul.

I love fall and I adore football.

When most girls were dreaming of being ballerinas or cheerleaders, I was dreaming of being the Quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys. I would always play football with all the neighborhood boys and I could throw better than any of them! I spent my summers in football games, and planning our next big play.

Then I started to realize that all the other girls thought I was weird, and that wanting to be the quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys was even weirder, so I surrendered my dreams and grew up.

I decided to be a truck driver instead.

*****
Thing 1 went to see the movie Vampires Suck last night.

It was a low in my parenting career.

I should have researched what she was going to see, and paid better attention. But, I was caught up in getting the house put back together from our vacation, doing laundry and picking up football jerseys, that I didn't even give it a second thought.

Jefe asked me what movie she had gone to see, and when I told him and said "Well, that movie is going to be a raunch fest." And then I died inside.

The good thing about the whole episode?

Thing 1 decided 10 minutes into the movie that it was terrible, so she got up, left and asked for her money back.

That made me swell with pride.

******




******
Thing 1 started school today.  She was none to happy about it either. It was sophomore orientation, and she felt like it was not necessary to attend. I, however, felt like it was really important, so I made her get up and go. She'll meet her study hour teacher, senior mentor, play some team/unity building games and then have lunch.  Over all it will make going to school on Monday-- the real first day-- much less stressful because she spent today there hanging out and getting to know everyone.


I sort of wish I could be a fly on the wall and watch her. I am absolutely, 100% enjoying this phase of her life.  Don't get me wrong, having a teenager is hard and stressful, but only because she is developing her own ideas and opinions and they don't necessarily match mine.She is a delight to be around and I sure do love her.

******
 There is something about going on vacation that makes me find my mojo. I am able to get back into the swing of life so much easier when I have rested my mind, body and spirit. We may have been running like crazed lunatics, but I seriously do feel rested.

I love to travel. Pink-sparkly-puffy-heart-love-it.

I hate the puking that tends to come with flying, but I LOVE to travel and see the world.  I guess that's why I have the degree that I do.

I'm already planning the next vacation. Now, the trick is how to spring that on Jefe.

Have a lovely weekend. Mine is full of football, and listening to Thing 1 swoon over the boy she and her friends are going boating with tomorrow.

Here's to not drowning.


1.  Lonelily - Damien Rice
2.  Smile - Lily Allen
3.  Good Thing - Patty Larkin
4.  Half Of My Heart (w/ Taylor Swift) - John Mayer
5.  The Blue Train - Parton/Ronstadt/Harris
6.  Headphones - Britt Nicole
7.  All I Have - Mat Kearney
8.  Speck Out In The Blue - Cameron Rafati
9.  Just The Same But Brand New - St. Vincent
10. Jack and Jill - Katie Herzig

Bonus: Surrounded - Chantel Kreviazuk

  To borrow a post idea from one of my favorite haunts, I haven't felt like blogging either.

Like At. All.













I've joked that I am being held prisoner of summer, but frankly, I am enjoying this lazy, crazy days of summer.  I'm sort of sad to see our lackadaisical life style come to a screeching halt this next Monday.

And then, I'm not.

Do not, I repeat DO NOT believe the commercial hype from Dawn Dish Detergent about "getting the grease out."

It may get the grease off your dishes, but out of hair? Yeah. Not so much.

Moxie likes to put crap in her hair. Water. Jam. Lotion and currently, her favorite: Carmex. Lots and lots of Carmex.

Carmex does not come out of your hair with one wash of Dawn Dish Detergent. Or even seven.

I was sitting at the computer at my parents house, doing something incredibly important. Like checking my email and ignoring my kids. My sister came in and said :”Uhh, you need to take care of your kid, pointed at Moxie and then walked out, laughing.”

I looked down and Moxie had taken my brand new—JUMBO I might add—bottle of Carmex and smothered her hair in it. The entire bottle in her hair.

Seriously people. That is nasty.

And greasy.

I freaked out because how in the Sam-Hill am I supposed to get that OUT?

I immediately put her in the tub and used regular shampoo. All that resulted was a wet, greasy mess.

I washed with regular shampoo three more times but yielded nothing but a screaming kid.

I combed it while it was wet with shampoo in it and all that garnered was a need for a thorough tub cleaning.

I remembered the commercial from Dawn saying “It get’s the grease out”.

Yeah. It doesn’t. I tried. Four times.

We were leaving to head up into the mountains on an impromptu picnic so I slathered Moxie’s hair into a pony-less-pony-tail and we headed off.

Seriously gross, people.


I stewed and fretted the entire trip (after taking pictures of the pony-less- pony-tail wearing girl crying) wondering how I was going to get this mess out of my kids hair.

This is where my testimony of Google started to falter because when I Googled “How to get Carmex out of my kids hair” all that came up was from Carmex itself saying “Dawn Dish Detergent gets Carmex out EASY.”

Yeah. Already tried it, and it doesn’t work.

I stumbled and fumbled around until I came up with a sure fire method of getting Carmex out of your Child's hair. I combined a couple of methods I found on Google and it works. Trust me. My Testimony has been restored. 

1. Wash your child’s hair in Dawn Dish Soap—just use a dime sized amount.

2. Take a serving spoon and sprinkle Corn Starch over your child’s hair. Rub it in really good so that it makes a paste on your child’s head.

3. Shampoo with Dawn Dish Soap (while Corn Starch is still on head).

4. Rinse and repeat.

I usually have to do steps two – four 3-4 times.

5. Wash child’s hair with regular soap.

The Corn Starch absorbs the grease and pulls it out of your child's hair.

It would have been fine had I only had to do this process once. I have, however, had to do this process no less than five more times since my first invention of it. It really does work. It’s gross, and you have to scrub the tub really good because of the corn starch and carmex mixed together make a nasty greasy tub ring.

Let’s hope this Carmex wearing phase of Moxie’s goes away soon and is not indicative of future phases.
Like Mo-hawks.

I met my dear friend's Mother this weekend for the first time.  It was her funeral.

I watched my friend and her family talk about their Mother, and laugh at the crazy things she did.  Like emptying out the toothpaste and filling it with peanut butter (I'm totally doing that).

She's a woman that is loved. A woman that is fun to be around. A woman that has had an influence on many. A woman that is missed.

A woman I never met, and yet I openly wept.

My heart hurt for them, and the pain and loss they were feeling.

Meeting my friends Mother for the first time made me reflect on my own life-- how would my family and friends feel about me when I was 86 years old? Would they have positive, funny things to share about me? I certainly hope there are funny things to share.  Laughter is important to me. 

My friend and I talked for the 3 hour drive-- each way-- of our lives and where they had been, where they were and where they were going.  We talked about unfilled expectations and the fact that life never follows the script that we wrote when we were children. The trick is learning to embrace that new, ever changing script that life hands you.

Death has a way of causing you to reflect on your life and what is truly important.

I haven't had the cause for reflection since Jefe's Father was killed.  I spent a lot of time after his death thinking about my life, and  how I wanted to be remembered. I realized that my family would be distraught when I died (they better be!) and that it would be a great service if I wrote my Obituary myself. So I did.  It's saved in my draft folder, that Obituary.

When Jefe's Dad died, the one thing I regret is the fact that his Obituary was handled by someone who had no emotional tie to him. His father was an Author and an English Professor-- a wordsmith really-- and his obituary was a cold, hard assortment of words.  I don't want that-- I want people to know that I loved them, I was loyal to them and I Believed.

Morbid? Maybe.

I thought about each of my children, and what I wanted them to know.  What I wanted them to feel.

I thought of Jefe and what I wanted him to know and the fact that I don't want him to be alone. He doesn't like to be alone, that man of mine. And, I'm OK with him remarrying. After 365 days of mourning,  that is. 

Here's the thing: I don't want weeping and wailing and the proverbial gnashing of teeth.

I want a party, with lots of laughing and for people to share all the stupid things I did throughout my life.  And trust me. There is a lot.

I want food.  Lots and lots of food.

I want music. Loud, happy music.  Preferably live bands. You could dance if you wanted to.

None of this depressing crying stuff.  Be happy people.

I know that I'll take flack for this next one, but I want to be cremated and buried with a new tree.  I want my friends and family to be able to come and sit under me-- my tree-- and feel me there when they hear the wind through the trees.  Because I will be there, you know.

This weekend I did some heavy soul searching and realized that the only thing that is really important are the relationships that we have. Not houses. Or cars. Or where we go to school but people.  That's all that matters.  People.  And the way we make them feel.

When I saw my friend at the funeral home, I hugged her fiercely.  She then took me by the hand and said "Come. Meet my Mom." And, it was an honor to do so.