Thinking of You, Anthony

Hey Antonio, remember when you and Krisite shared a house with Brian and Ben and I for a year? Yeah. Those were good times. Remember when we got a movie one night and popped popcorn and ate and watched in the living room? Remember how when the bowl was basically empty, I picked through the remains and ate all the tiny buttery popcorn crumbs since no one else was going to eat anymore? Remember a while later how you aparently did the same thing? Remember how you wanted to vomit when you found out that I had eaten the popcorn and spit the unpopped kernels back into the bowl and how I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants when you realized that you ate those same kernels? I still say, "WHO EATS THE UNPOPPED KERNELS? What the heck?!?!" Yeah. Good times. You'll be happy to know that Maddie spit her unpopped kernels back into the bowl today and I unknowingly scooped up and ate at least three of those slobbery kernels. Yummy. Just thought you'd wanna know that five years later, someone got even with me on your behalf. I didn't eat them all though. Just let me know if you want me to mail them to you.

I'm Taking Up Smoking

Ever notice how smokers are the only people in the entire world that get their full break time and never ever miss that sacred break time at the office? They have a physical need that basically requires them to leave work and have a smoke. The federal government has decreed that everyone gets breaks, but not everyone takes them. Being a stay at home mom, I am not afforded such luxuries as federal mandated breaktime. I was just hoping that if I took up smoking, I would be able to abandon my children to go sit on the front porch steps for fifteen minutes every four hours and have a little time to myself. Doesn't that sound relaxing? In a coughing, hacking, stinky, gagging kind of way, it does. Of course, cigarette smoke has always given me splitting headaches, so it may not work out in the end. Plus, Brian is pretty sure the kids would just follow me outside and continue to nag me while Jacob tried to steal the cigarette. Maybe this isn't the best idea after all. A girl can dream though, can't she?

Colors Matter

The dentist today was another harrowing experience. It took the dental hygienist, Brian and I to restrain Ben while he emitted blood curdling screams and gagged on his own saliva so that the poor woman could simply brush his teeth. Brian was able to manage Maddie on his own, but still, with plenty of tears. Jacob was well mannered enough through it all, but I didn't have time to change his stinky diaper he lovingly created on the drive to the dentist so he was odoriferous. He also bit me three times while I nursed him during the lull between the hygienist and the dentist and threw up on me. I was pretty ticked and didn't want to give anyone a reward for anything after the hygienist disaster, but Brian offered the standard Burger King play land bribe to them if they could pull it together for the dentist portion of the visit. They did a fair job, nothing approaching good, but fair. In any case, we were finally able to leave and relieve everyone ears of the piercing screams to go find a prize in the prize box. While they shopped someone filled up helium balloons and brought them out for the kids. May I remind you: one girl, one boy. I realize that they can't always give out pink to every girl and blue to every boy. Guess what they brought out? One green balloon with a blue string. One PINK balloon with a BLUE string. UUUUGGGHHH!! I think she was subconsciously trying to get back at us for my rotten kids. Fights all around our house this afternoon about who gets which balloon and which string. NOTICE TO ALL DENTAL OFFICE EMPLOYEES: Colors Matter. Either go all generic or all girl/boy. The upside? No cavities. Just a warning that we need to floss. Yeah. You saw how great we do with teeth stuff. You come floss for me every night.

Random

I don't know what happened or why, but I was a grouchy mom tonight. The day went well, there just weren't any breaks and I was done with the day about 90 minutes early. So here I sit on the couch with the laptop reading blogs and detoxing from my bad mood. Feels good with a fan blowing on me and silence has finally settled in with three sleepy heads snuggled into their pillows. Random thing happened today that I've been kicking myself about since noon. The bay window has been cracked for a year or so now and we finally got it replaced. After three reschedules, they came today to do the work. When it was all done, the guy told me not to touch the caulk for 12 hours (with all three kids at my feet listening in). I repeated and clarified to the little people NOT to touch the windows until tomorrow. Nods of agreement and understanding all around. Happy mama. I signed off and the guy was leaving when I hollered at him to put a little more caulk in one spot that had a gap larger than I would have liked to see. He said it didn't need it, but he would. As he ran to get the caulk gun from his truck, I leaned over to check it out and see if I was just being stupid and stuck my thumb right into the new, beautiful, perfect caulk. Idiot. I was so embarassed when he came back. He attempted to fix it as best he could, but it just can't be fixed. Again, Idiot. Oh well. Such is life. In some weird way, I know it's good for my kids to see me screw up and admit "Mommy made a bad choice" or "Mommy had an accident." So we'll chalk this one up to my stupidity and let it go. (Except that I'll see it everytime I come home for the next 20 years.) Dispite my foul mood today, I have to award ten points for Brian for rocking Jacob to sleep when I gave up and decided to let him cry himself to sleep. Plus ten more points for making homemade french fries for us tonight. I'm in love with Mali for bequeathing her deep fryer to us before she moved. Of course, now I can blame her if I get fat. I'm feeling random tonight.

Still the Same After All These Years

Are you one of those people that is constantly changing or do you stay the same forever? Some people have tried every fashionable haircut, with highlights and full dye jobs. They update their wardrobe with current trends and always look fabulous. Then there is me. I tend toward classic styles (at least that is what I tell myself). I don't see the need for more than one pair of black shoes.My current pair is over ten years old and was purchased at a thrift store. Why waste money on clothes that will be out of style and I'll just have to replace them? Seems silly to me. So, I stick to collared polo plain colored shirts, classic t-shirts, simple button up shirts, all in calm colors like navy that will never be "out". The problem with that, is I may never be "out" but I'm also never "in". I haven't ever dyed my hair because I think I wouldn't be me if I wasn't brunette. Really, I think I'd freak out looking out my eyes into another woman's face in the mirror. I have had two hair styles in my life. The ponytail with occasional curl (and I mean very occasionally) and about three years ago I got my first cut that was above my shoulders since I was in third grade. Not much variety here. I don't give myself enough credit or value myself enough to allow me to do fun, cute and cool things like my friends do. I want to, but can't push myself into cuteness. Though, I did have my sister teach me how to put on makeup about a year ago. We went and bought all new stuff (because the one tube of lipstick I had, I kid you not, I bought in seventh grade and haven't used it up yet, that's 18 years ago...shameful). Bad news. I only stuck to it for about two weeks. Now all skill I may have gained is lost again. Sorry Kristie. And yet, I find myself incredibly happy this way. From time to time I feel ugly, fat and frumpy like every other person on the planet, but overall I'm happy. These random strange thoughts came to mind as I looked at our family pictures tonight. Seriously, I look the exact same as I did eons ago. Case and point: When I was 20 years old I got married. I sent out wedding invitations. One went to an old friend who I couldn't find, but his mom was my old seventh grade spanish teacher and was teaching my little brother at the time. I sent it via him to said friend. The response came back from my spanish teacher that I looked EXACTLY the same as I had in seventh grade. Yuck. When I was getting married at 20, I looked like a 12 year old. Well, yes. I basically look the same. When I looked at my picture tonight, I realize, I look like me. Same old me I have always been. Just a few extra pounds around the waist and on the back side now. Still the same after all these years. Both good and bad. Steady. Boring. Safe. Predictable. Constant. Habitual. Solid. Regular. Reliable. I guess you'll recognize me if you see me on the street someday, so don't forget to smile and say hello. Of course, I may not recognize you. Most people are more exciting and change from time to time. And I think that's healthy. I find it interesting that Brian has the same haircut he has had since birth too, except for a 12 month stint when I met him. He grew it back out to the current style for our wedding pictures and there it remains. We are a match made in heaven. Two peas in a pod. As we would say "we're 'posed to be together." Someday we'll be old and decrepid wearing clothes from the seventh grade, happily oblivious to our plight in life knowing we're still "'posed to be together" and forever in love. It's good to be loved for who you are. He's a good man.

Check Me Out!

Thanks to my tech savy (or time pressed) friend, I now know how to email a post to blogger and have it automatically post online.  Life is sweet.....

Mystery Solved!

Thanks Katy!