Friday, December 31, 2010

Page Me 2010

The titles I made it through in 2010:

The Help, Kathryn Stockett
The Mermaid Chair, Sue Monk Kidd
The Memory Keeper's Daughter, Kim Edwards
The Red Tent, Anita Diamant
Living Dead in Dallas, Charlaine Harris
Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen
This Cold Country, Annabel Davis-Goff
Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh (a re-read. I usually read at least a chapter or two of it each year.)

I adored The Red Tent.  My other favorites for the year were Water for Elephants and The Help.  Great stories!  Easy reads.  I least enjoyed Living Dead in Dallas. It wasn't a bad book, just not my favorite genre.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Because I Gave Up on Sending Christmas Cards a Long, Long Time Ago...

Beware.  You may have to stab your eyes out after viewing this...

The Ghost of Christmas Past (Reckless and Mr. Incredible 1994)
 The shame. The horror.  The complete lack of a hairstyle.  At least my sweater is far cuter than Mr. Incredible's shirt.  Doesn't he look festive!

I found this picture from the first Christmas Mr. Incredible and I were married.  Obviously, from our waistlines, you can tell we were settling into marriage quite nicely.  I remember thinking how good we looked in this picture.  All we can say about it now is, "Wow."  You better watch out though because those face-stealing frames are coming back.  Remember this picture when you are tempted to get some.

I want to wish each of you the most joy-filled Christmas you have ever had.  The present was given many, many years ago in the birth, life, and death of Christ Jesus, Emmanuel, the Messiah, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords .  It's up to you when you decide to unwrap it. 


The Joy of Christmas Present
With Love, from the whole Reckless clan

Monday, December 20, 2010

Forty Ways To Celebrate Turning Forty

Because you know you are wondering what I am doing and how I am feeling about Wednesday...

If I was turning forty and you gave me some time and money, I would probably:

Thursday, December 16, 2010

"I'm a model, you know what I mean and I do my little turn on the catwalk..."

A little Right Said Fred always makes me smile.  How 'bout you?

Recently, the always inappropriate dinner conversation at our home got exceptionally funny and then turned to a very teachable spiritual moment on the nature and character of God.

First, the funny stuff...

Monday, December 13, 2010

N-T. TENTACLES...

Occasionally, my children, like any other children, get a little confused about what something is called.  And usually, it is pretty safe to let their precious mistakes go.  For instance, we let Miss Proper say "hospamital" for "hospital" until she was in elementary school because it was so cute to hear our little perfectionist saying something wrong.  We also let her say "fuman" instead of "human" and "egg least" instead of "at least" until she was way too old because we are cruel parents with very sick senses of humor.  And yes, we would have to hide our laughter by running out of the room or covering our mouths.

RNR used to call strawberries "sharbellies" and drink a glass of "lemalade" while she ate them.  Hamburgers were "hangaburs."  Cute, right?

Well, it was all fun and games until we had the boy. 

Sunday, December 12, 2010

"I'm going to the store. Do you need any Kotex?"

People, can I just tell you that the title of this post is an actual quote from my father from when I was ELEVEN.  Yes, I was an early bloomer, and none too proud of it at the time.  A C-cup stacked on top of a size double 00 bottom makes for a noticeably top-heavy, incredibly self-conscious preteen girl.  Fast forward twenty-nine years and insert certain situations, and the presence of the twins, not identical I remind you, still makes a self-conscious woman in certain moments.

Monday, December 6, 2010

We Eat All We Can and Then We Buy Some More

Free food!  I'm all in!

The Bocal Minority

Miss Proper is now in a band.  Unfortunately, it's not the kind that will allow me to mismanage her money and retire in style.  Sigh.  It's the middle school band.  And, I'm very proud of her.  Two weeks before school started she went to a beginner bassoon camp and learned all about her instrument.  Since then, she is taking private lesson each week and has a nearly private class in school each day.  There are only four other bassoon players, so she is getting a good bit of instruction even during the school day.


A Little Night Music

Bassoon.  Probably the perfect instrument for Miss Proper as bassoon players are described as "serious".  Also a good choice as she is so competitive.  If she doesn't get first chair, she will be terrible to live with for a few days.  Fortunately, as there are only four other bassoon players, she has a fighting chance.  And she is the only girl, but the boys are "not cute."  One of those "not cute" boys asked her to be his girlfriend last year, and she said, "I'll take it under consideration."  YOU GO, GIRL!  After she considered that she already had a boyfriend (now a distant memory), she told him "no".  Made me giggle like crazy.  I'm hoping she is better at that whole boy-girl thing than I was, and I'm thinking that at eleven she already may have a better hang of it than I ever did.

But, back to Miss Proper... She has learned how to play the "Theme from Jaws", "Ode to Joy", "Jingle Bells", "Mary Had a Little Lamb," "Up on the Rooftop," "Old MacDonald," "Go Tell Aunt Rhody," "Good King Wenceslas" and several other unrecognizable medleys and harmonies.  Tuesday evening is her Winter Concert.  I'm sure it's going to be fabulous!   

Sunday, December 5, 2010

***Note to Mr. Incredible (in case you've dropped in for a little visit)***

I hope you and RNR Princess have enjoyed your wedding date to Little Rock, Arkansas.  I know you would have preferred me to be your date, but she will always remember getting on a plane dressed in a sparkly green dress and going on a trip with just the two of you.  I'm sure Miss Proper is wondering where she will get to go with you when her social schedule, homework schedule, and softball schedule allow.

Seventeen days, Love. You better get cracking. Just because I have five more years until I am Bonus' definition of old does not mean you are off the hook. Diamonds, a netbook, new kitchen sinks, a new sofa, new bedroom furniture, and a new wheel cover for the hooptie will suffice. Or you can just send me and Pandamom to New York in April. Take your pick. (Translation: I really would love to have picture of me wearing my green raincoat in Central Park.  For your desk and all, of course.)

About my birthday party... You know I am not particularly fond of this type of surprise. Last time someone planned a surprise birthday party for me, I wound up with my face planted in my birthday cake.  After breaking my nose four times, my nostril output is not what it used to be.  I'm pretty sure that cake would stay up there.  I'd hate to suffocate on my birthday.

A heads up would be lovely. Sooner would be better than later. The house is a complete disaster. I don't want dirty bathrooms or dishes in the sink if people are coming over.  And you know that our child has a penchant for leaving underwear in the most unexpected places.  It is just not necessary for anyone other than JMom or Kernsie to walk in on such sights.  We don't want to scar our friends for life.

Plus, I bought a fantastic green sequined shirt for myself for my birthday; I need to know when to wear it. And I don't have the right boots or jewelry for it yet, so...

Oh yes, don't forget that the theme should somehow include the color GREEN or Ugly A$$ Dress or both. In which case, I have to wear my prom dress from my junior year with matching hat and gloves.  You see, it is really important for you (or a friend of mine) to give me a strong hint in the right direction.


Will I be wearing this black and gold vintage 1940's dress or my blingy new shirt or something else? 
Your guess is as good as mine.
 

And FYI, I would rather not wake up to forty flamingos or toliets or a flashing sign in the front yard.  Coffee in bed will me make smile. 

If possible, I'd like a tiered cake. Ask RNR Princess which one I picked out. Fabulous letters to me in a super cute album would be preferable to gifts. Unless someone has an extra red convertible Ford Thunderbird taking up space in their garage.  In that case, they should feel free to bring a gift.  Perhaps even encouraged. 

You might ask some of my favorite people for help. Remember that my sister was a professional event planner. She could give you some pointers. Guest list is in the kitchen near my computer. If you aren't sure how to contact a few of the people, check my Facebook account. You know the password.

I'm sure it will be a great party whatever you plan.  The above ideas are really only suggestions.  My main concern is I just don't want to show up looking like this:


Don't ask me what I was thinking.  Obviously, I wasn't. 






Saturday, December 4, 2010

Good News

In the world according to Bonus, I will neither be old nor a "grome up" until I am

45!

Phew.... I'm glad he finally told me.  I guess he was enjoying watching his mama sweat it out.

Speak it, sweet child of mine.  I thought I only had eighteen days left before I turned officially old.  Not that I have a mental countdown to my 40th birthday going or anything.  Now, I can rest easy for five more years.   

Other good news...

The Christmas transformation has begun at my home.  Yes, I realize I am way behind all you other people with organizers and schedules and Christmas notebooks and the like.  Remember, I took my children on vacation for Thanksgiving, and then I was exhausted.  Plus, RNR Princess had strep throat this week, and Miss Proper was nursing a nasty cold.  We did not have the strength or manpower to decorate.  Hey, at least I finally took down the pumpkins and gourds on December 2.  I did not say I had put them away yet, but they are no longer on my front porch with my dead plant. 

The Christmas tree is up and about one-third of the ornaments are hung.  I've only had to banish Bonus one time for throwing a stuffed moose at the coffee table which was, of course, full of my most breakable ornaments.  The damage was the most expensive ornament I owned in approximately one thousand shards of mercury glass.  Que sera sera.  At least I won't have to pack that one up at the end of the season.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Enjoy the Silence

I know I incessantly chatter about major (and some minor) appliances on here, but as I am a housewife, they are a pretty big part of my life.  If they are not cooperating, my frustration builds.  When my frustration builds, I get cranky.  And when I get cranky, you are likely to hear about it.

Well, several months ago my dryer started making an awful squeal.  I liken it to a cat in heat.  Mr. Incredible assured me it was the belt slipping and told me not to worry my pretty little head.  I dutifully said, "okay" and learned to keep the door to the laundry room shut most of the time.  And this worked for us until Monday.

On Monday, I thought I heard someone chewing rocks atop the a cat in heat in my laundry room.  Children wailed, "Please, Mama, make it stop."  It really was excruciating, and even though my humble home has two levels and a good bit of square footage, we could not escape the torment. 

I wanted to make it stop but, the clothes were sopping.  I was unable to relieve our agony until the load was dry.  The rock chewing continued for about the next hour. 

Although my faith in his abilities was a little shaky, Mr. Incredible bought the parts, disassembled the dryer, sucked up all the lint and made it good as new for about $60.  There were not even any leftover parts.  And no cussing or throwing of wrenches or pliars.  Pretty much a miracle.  And now, my laundry room is free of fertile felines and rock biters, and I am grateful to press start and slowly walk out of the laundry room without fear of hearing loss.  It's a beautiful thing.  Enjoying the silence.  

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Yes, I Still Have 4 Suitcases To Unpack

Mr. Incredible and I did not take the children on a "real" vacation (read: somewhere besides Gaga and Grampy's house) this summer because:

A).  We took the two of us to Naples, Fl for Mr. Incredible's 20th reunion,
B).  We were broke after we went to Naples.

Enough explanation.

We decided that we would surprise the children by taking them to San Antonio before we drove on down to my parents' house near Houston. 
You made us ride in the car for 5 hours to see this house with no furniture?

The Alamo is not quite as large as I pictured it during 7th grade Texas History at Bammel Middle School. And, although I had been told this before, I was still surprised that it is so dinky.



Dinner on the Riverwalk
We were here.

I don't get to ride the Steel Eel.

I guess I have to ride the Steel Eel...

Thank you, Stranger, for letting us all get in on one.

Bonus' first roller coaster ride, The Shamu Express
Yep, he is now addicted, like the mama!

There is something very wrong about being molested by a furry otter.

One, two, three of us love The Count more than Telly.  Poor Telly!  He can't get no love.


Some drowned rats
 
The Trip to Paris (one of the many hilarious names Bonus gave to The Journey To Atlantis)



Time to leave.  Bonus is bawling because we didn't buy him a glowing sword.  Hasn't mentioned it since.
   
And now, I have to go unpack a couple suitcases...



Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Can you believe it? I took some pictures.

Yeah, yeah...I'm not a camera mom.  I have an excellent photographic memory though, so that works for me.  One of my best pals gives me an extra hard time about not taking pictures, so I'm trying to get better about it.  I bought a little point-and-shoot camera that fits in my pocket or purse.  The big one is such a chore to lug around, so I often just left it at home rather than be bothered.  Maybe this will help me.  Maybe not. 

I am all busy getting ready for Christmas.  I have a bunch to say, but I have to go to the post office and fight the hoards to get a postmark on a rebate form for Mr. Incredible's Christmas gift that he bought himself a few weeks ago.  It's not my favorite thing to have in the house, but it's a nice enrichment for his bromances.  I also have to do a little holiday outfit returning.  If my kids would just go to the store with me, it would make this task so much easier.  They only purport to like shopping.  It's a lie.


Anyway, until I get finish with the wrapping, cleaning, trimming, etc... I'll post a few pics of the past month.  Hopefully, I'll get back to you with the good stuff before Friday.

       
My Little Pretties in the Annual Pose


Miss Proper and her partners in crime good friend ;)

Hope all had a Thanksgiving like we did. 


Sunday, November 21, 2010

From the Mouth of Bonus

"It's good that people are not made of cheese."

Yes, son, it is good that people are not made out of cheese.  Living in Texas, we would be nothing but a big pool of queso.  

Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Negotiations Begin

Apparently, the "Symphonic Romance" is heating up.

It seems that The Boy likes Miss Proper, although he is not ready to make his affections fully public at this time.  His friends made it known today that "someone" who has first period band likes Miss Proper, which narrows down the field significantly, but that is all the information his lackeys would divulge today.

An offer was extended by The Boy through his friends:

The boy will tell Miss Proper who he likes if she tells him who she likes first.

One of her friends told her not to fall for that because it was a set-up.  We shall see.

Stay tuned.

Friday, November 19, 2010

All I Can Say Is Thanks

Yesterday I spent the day setting up a craft room, setting up a craft booth, helping man a craft booth, teaching crafts to a small group of women, refilling punch bowls and serving punch to the women at my church.  Taste of Christmas is a wonderful night, and I look forward to it each year.

I enjoyed seeing all the people I know and ladling them up a beverage.  You know, I would say hello, ask them if they would like punch or water, ask about their kids or grandkids, or if they were enjoying the evening, etc...  And they would chat away with me, and we would look one another directly in the face and smile.  This repeated a couple hundred times.

And I although it was a long day, I did enjoy it.  I walked in my home around 10:15 that night and was all smiles.  Until I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

I had the mother of all zits on my chin, and no one bothered to tell me!  Thanks, friends!  I'll remember that when you have spinach in your teeth or toliet paper on your shoe.  Next time, tell me that the volcano is about to erupt.  It will be our secret code.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Stories from Both Ends

In the realm of parenting, there is nothing quite like waking up to the sound of your four year old puking a mountain of spaghetti right smack next to your pillow at 2:00 am.  At least he missed my head.  And, of course, Mr. Incredible was in Stillwater, Oklahoma for this event.  At least we were both being punished at the same time. 

I apologize if you thought you were going to eat breakfast in a few minutes or if you were planning to cook pasta this evening.  I needed you to share my pain, and I thank you for being there for me.  You are the wind beneath my wings.

Poor little Bonus.  He seems fine now, but since I had to change sheets and wash pillows, sheets, and mattress protectors IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT (but I'm not bitter or anything), he had to stand there and shiver for a bit until I put on the extra set of sheets (the flowered ones that I hate and only put on when there has been such an incident).  I'm really not that good at puke duty because it makes me gag.  So, I start to clean up, and then I have to throw up.  It takes a little longer that it should for me to get everything all tidied up.  Mr. Incredible, however, is a superhero who is able to clean up puke with out a single gag. Yes, he thinks he should get a medal for having cleaned up my chocolate milk and Cheetos mess when I was with child. 

For the other end...  I was shopping in Walgreen's and noticed a not-so-favorite teacher from RNR's school.  RNR, Bonus and I all said hello to her and then continued with our shopping.  When we got up to the register, she was right ahead of us.  I don't know about you, but when I run into someone in a store, my eyes almost always wander to what they are purchasing.  It's an almost automatic thing, and then, you know, you ask them a question like, "Grilling steaks tonight, Bob?"  You know, you put on your sign that says, "Mistress of the Obvious" and make small talk about their lives based on their purchases.  Innocent and friendly enough, right? 

Mistake.

Big mistake.


 

Dulcolax.




And this person is always in a bad mood and gripes at the kids.  And I guess it's no wonder now.  Why couldn't it have been tampons?   

And then our eyes accidentally meet, and I sooooo do not know what to do because the thought that pops into my head is, "I hope everything comes out okay."  Which causes me to have a little giggle that I am trying to stiffle so that I don't embarrass her.  She quickly leaves, and I practically run to the car and bust out laughing.  And RNR and Bonus, of course, want to know why I am laughing. 

Yes, apparently, I am really an eight year old boy walking around in the body of a thirty-nine year old woman.  Don't fall for it if I ask you, "What's under there?"

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Attack of the Space Invaders

You may know them as Close Talkers...

A few days ago, I had an encouter of the close kind with a complete stranger at Lowes.  As Mr. Incredible and I stood at the checkout counter a man came up behind me in line and invaded the personal space of my backside.  Hey, I love to be close to people, but this was ridiculous.  Maybe even turdiculous, which is Miss Proper's verbal invention. Look for "turdiculous" on Urban Dictionary.  Miss Proper packs a poetic license just like her parents.

So, Mr. Incredible and I termed this man a Space Invader in a sentimental nod to the Atari game we all loved in the early 80's and added that to the rest of the bizarre converation of that impromptu date which also included the discussion of vanity plates that tell you what kind of car the owner is driving.  The example that day was "TBENZ1".

To the driver of that vehicle, thank you ever so much for providing me with that information.  I would have never known what kind of car you were driving if it were not for your vanity plate.  I might have mistaken your car for a Yugo.  Thank you also for immediately letting me know that we probably could never be friends.  I'm sure you are a lovely person and all, but unless your husband ordered that plate for you without your knowledge, you are not my kind of girl.   

Friday, November 12, 2010

I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No / "Soldiers"

Not really.  But I got your attention. 

I have learned to say no over the years.  I no longer step forward and volunteer myself simply because no one else wants the job.  If I say I will do something, it's because I want to or I feel like it's something I should do.  The tough part is when you feel like it's something you want to do or feel you should do but you just can't make it happen.  Happens to me all the time.

And a friend of mine was writing about just that the other day.  This is a blog you need to read.  Because it's real.  What happens when you find yourself living in Plan B?  I'll tell you what.  Plan B is a wonderful place to be.  Plan B is beautiful. 

How's your Plan B working out for you?  And if you are one of the few that actually gets to live your Plan A, is it all it was cracked up to be?  Or are you a hybrid, a Plan A via Plan B?  Are you someone who got exactly what they wanted just not in the way you thought you would get it?  Just wondering... because I spend a bunch of time wondering about those types of things. 

My two cents...  Passionately live the Plan B life that you didn't plan because it's so much better than your Plan A ever thought about being.  You'll always remember the Plan A.  You might always miss Plan A.  Plan A was just a plan, and one definition of plan, according to Webster's is "a method for achieving an end".  Plan A and Plan B or Plan C or D, if it comes to that for you, are all just a means to get us to the ultimate end of bringing glory to the King of Kings. 

Although I can say no these days, I can't say no to a friend who has invited me to play along.  And it's one of those FB things that you just can't help but chime in on.  The iTunes Shuffle Game.

Here are the rules:


1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the song name down no matter how silly it sounds.

If someone says "you're okay" you say:
"Groove Is in the Heart" by Deee-Lite (and how)

How would you describe yourself?

"Kung Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas (I could have been a contender.  Just ask me.)


What do you like in a girl/guy?

"Le Freak" by Chic (I'm not sure how Mr. Incredible will feel about this, although he would agree all his predecessors were a bit on the side of freakish.  All in all, my favorite people across my life resemble this.)

How do you feel?

"Holiday" by Madonna (Amen. Can't get here soon enough)


What's your life's purpose?

"Gonna Make You Sweat" by C+C Music Factory


What's your motto?

"Unforgetful You" by Jars of Clay


What do your parents think of you?

"Who Let the Dogs Out?" by Baha Men


What do you think about very often?

"Another Nail in My Heart" by Squeeze


What do you think of your best friend?

"The Devil Is Bad" by W's (hilarity)


What's your life story?

"Heat of the Moment" by Asia



What do you want to be when you grow up?

"Only Time Will Tell" by Asia


What do you think when you see the person you like?

"Shout" by The Isley Brothers


What will you dance to at your wedding?

"YMCA" by The Village People (I think it actually was played.  That, The Macarena, The Electric Slide, The Chicken Dance and Boot Scootin' Boogie. I had no control over the play list.)

What will they play at your funeral?

"I Melt With You" by Modern English (I was kind of hoping for "In the Presence of Jehovah" and "It Is Well" but I guess this could work...)


What is your passion in life?

"Little Man" by The OC Supertones


What is your biggest fear?

"Macarena" by Los Del Rio  (This is like the Magic Eight Ball.  I greatly fear line dancing.)


What is your biggest secret?

"Less Is More" by Reliant K


What do you want right now?

"Let's Go" by The Cars


What will you title this post as?

"Soldiers" by Out of Eden


Well, now that I am completely mortified that my song library appears, for the most part, to be nothing but a soundtrack of a 1991 Pike frat party I once attended, I think I should have said no.  

I'm off for a sleepless night with 5th and 6th graders.  And very bad weak coffee in the morning.  All just a "don't-miss-this" part of Plan B.  Try to control your jealousy.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

All I Want for Christmas

Santa Baby,

I haven't written to you in about thirty-three years, and you haven't visited me in over twenty.  However, that doesn't mean the relationship is over.  I would love to have you drop by this year.  And since you will be visiting my children anyway, it shouldn't put you out too much.  I'll put out a ham sandwich, an extra chocolate chip cookie, and a bottle of Tums. 

Although I won't say I've been good all year, this year was an improvement from last year.  If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to ask you something.

My sweet nephew Jude would like to go to Haiti in December.  He has been making some phone calls and sending letters, but since he is only seven, his scope is a little limited.  He would like to be a missionary someday.  That and a professional football player.  If you could help him out with even a small monetary donation, that would make my heart swell.  Send your donation to:
 
Grangou

27702 Crown Valley Parkway, Suite D4
Box 201
Ladera Ranch, CA 92694

Put Jude Gibson Fund in the memo line.  They will send you a receipt for your taxes.  If you want to check out this organization, click here.  They are doing amazing things to help Haitians. You can also donate via PayPal through their website.  Jude has asked the people he loves to send him money for Haiti instead of Christmas gifts.  That's a huge sacrifice for a seven year old.  I'm proud of him, and I love him.  I hope you can help him reach his goal.  He needs $1500.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A Dream Come True... Sort Of

For those of you who don't live in my hood and for those of you who live in my hood but did not see me on the day of Candy Reckoning, this is for you...



Reckless Housewife No. 867-5309

In my alternate reality, this is me.  I jump in the mind portal, and here I am.  Only I have extra piercings and larger tattoos.  And jet black hair with a green swath.  Everytime.  Seriously.  I know this makes some of you giggle.  I really can be quite tough when I want to.  Stop laughing.  Ask my friend Kernsie.  I knocked her out of the race at the local rink because she was in between me and the finish line.  It was sweet.  And she didn't cry or anything; she just made excuses as to why she didn't beat me.  And I made excuses as to why I did not beat the eighteen year old who won ("If she was wearing rentals like me, I would have smoked her and stubbed her out on the curb."  "I'm almost 40; I'll bet she won't be able to skate like me when she is 40." etc., etc., etc.)  I still think they should have a exclusive race for those of us 30+.      

In my reality, driving one hour each way to practice with these girls is not fair to my family.  So, I just have to settle for playing pretend whenever I get an opportunity.  Or wait until they actually quit talking about it and start a league at my rink.  Plus, Mr. Incredible does not really dig this look on me.  He once told me he wouldn't be my friend if I got a tattoo.  He, of course, ate those words.

If any of the others of you who saw me this day would like to send me your picture of me, hugs and kisses would be bountiful.  This one is courtesy of Momma Wolg.  I may just turn it into a fabulously reckless header--Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde style, you know. 

And, yes, the tattoos are finally all gone.  Well, except the one that is a permanent fixture.  And that is a story for another day...

Saturday, November 6, 2010

I Don't Think I Should Have To Pay The Pig. I Bought The Darn Thing, Afterall

So, I was driving in the crazy intersection by Lowe's, Target, WalMart, and the Shops.  And, of course, like each and every time one drives in this intersection, peril was at my doorstep.  This time I really did almost get killed by a driver pulling out of the Lowe's parking lot and into my lane. 

Because it was a near-death experience, I let a little word slip out.  It's the one that starts with "Shhh" and ends with "It's in the closet." 

Now, I rarely cuss.  I did have about six weeks in a certain semester in college where I might have been mistaken for a sailor, but I stopped it.  It's just something I was personally convicted about one morning many years ago when a certain unbecoming word that rhymes with "duck" flew out of my mouth before my feet even hit the floor in the morning.  It was one of the those times where God spoke loud and clear to my heart and told me, "You are not created to be like this."  And I heard the disappointment and concern and knew that I needed to change.  I do have the occasional slip, but it really is not a place where I struggle continually.

So, my four year old had never heard such a word before, and, of course, I heard the word come from the backseat in his lispy little voice.  And I decided that I would just let that lie instead of explaining why it is a word that grown-ups shouldn't use but sometimes do.  Or how it was not a word for him to use EVER.  I'm pretty sure this was a limited case of in-one-ear-and-out-the-mouth.  I haven't heard it since, and I am thankful because that is one case where what I said was not worth remembering.
     

Friday, November 5, 2010

Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow

Thank you, Lord, for giving my husband the wisdom to say yes to a gorgeous new Kitchen Aid dishwasher.  Thank you for giving him a rawkstar wife who was able to save him thirty percent off the price because of her mad negotiating skills and cute voice. Please bless the installation tomorrow.  Protect my ears from any profanities and my body from any steel objects that may be hurled.  Amen.

I am soooo thankful for this new dishwasher.  My old one died a slow painful death.  I'm looking forward to having clean dishes at the end of a cycle. 

Thursday, November 4, 2010

How To Destroy a $1000 Washer

Because there's nothing more endearing than a person who is completely honest...

I will tell you that when I washed the darks today I somehow missed a Pull Up in a little person's pajama pants.  I figured this out when I went into the laundry room to put something in the refrigerator.  When I glanced over at the washer, I knew something was not right.  At first I thought it was pieces of tissue or paper that I had missed in a pocket, but, no, that liquid-loving polymer was piled up on the clear window of my washer.

Because I like to look for a silver lining...  the bonus was that the clothes were almost dry.

Wonder what's going to happen in the dryer...

Miss Proper helped me clean up the mess and then made up a song about it to "She'll Be Comin' Around the Mountain."  It was quite entertaining. 

I really don't recommend this for the rest of you who have front-loaders.  And now, I may have yet another household task where Mr. Incredible does do a better job.  Sigh. 

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

"Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, [Reckless] is free at last!"

I couldn't resist throwing in a little adulterated MLK.  It's not really that earth-shattering, but I can FINALLY quit feeling like a criminal.

It's taken ninety days of painfully careful driving, but my deferred adjudication is over.  I am no longer on probation with the State of Texas for the two stop signs I blew through (oops). 

I think I have learned something in my probationary period:

If there is an officer of the law behind you, turn right at the first available street or parking lot, pull over to the side of the road, and send a text or make a phone call or get out a piece of gum or something.  Otherwise, the nervousness of having them behind you as you drive may cause you to do something illegal.  Like not notice a stop sign and drive right through it.  Twice.  

Monday, October 25, 2010

What's your RBI? and other pick-up lines heard (okay, used) at the park

David Murphy of the Texas Rangers held open the door for me and my friend Momma Wolg this morning. Go Rangers (although I usually like the Dodgers)! What a precious family he has.
When I returned home, I told Mr. Incredible about my brush with the major leaguer. He wailed, "Oh no! Another baseball player.  That's it for me. I'm out on the curb now." I quickly corrected him, "What are you talking about? You're already out on the curb."

Then he teased me about being a former baseball groupie, diamond doll, etc...  And I shut up real quick because that part was a little true in college.  And because I needed to get out of there and go look up David Murphy's stats.  Go Rangers! (Isn't that obligatory right now if you live in Texas?)        

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Symphonic Romance

Miss Proper went to the symphony last eve with a group of fifty from her middle school band.  Thankfully (or not), I was not with them.  I probably would have cramped her style. 

Fortunately, I had been in the right place (Kohl's) at the right time last week (just as new additions were being placed on the gold star clearance rack!) and had purchased her a beautiful new dress for such an occasion. Then, I shopped with a pal on Monday and found her some cute shoes to boot. When she was dressed she looked at herself in the full length mirror and pronounced, "I look awesome." Wish I had possessed that much self-confidence at her age (or now).  I agreed with her and subsequently dropped her at school yelling through the open hooptie window that I loved her and to have a great time.  I saw that little "shut-up-mom-you-are-embarrassing-the-crap-out-of-me"  cringe on her shoulders as she walked away from the hooptie and into the band hall.  What can I say?  I'm a mom; I get paid to mortify my children in front of their peers.  I'm certain that it's a prerequisite for motherhood.

Before the symphony, the group enjoyed burgers at the Hard Rock Cafe which apparently has some kind of fancy progressive restrooms where the wall between the mens and womens does not fully extend to the ceiling.  What is that?  I'm going to have to start checking that out when I visit the powder room, especially when I already have such stage fright when it comes to public restrooms.  Just add something else to my list of things to fret about.  And then I start wondering about the person who designed said restroom--a sicko or just an incompetent.  At any rate, the girls could hear the boys talking over the wall while they were at the sinks and then paper towels rained down on the girls.  Do you love the subtleness of eleven-year-old boys flirting?       

Miss Proper got to sit next to THE boy at the symphony which would not have happened if I had been there.  He actually had a real conversation with her and told her a story that lasted the whole intermission.   
She was floating four feet off the ground when I picked her up at 11:00 pm; I had to grab her wrist and yank her down into my hooptie lest she float off into the sky.  We tucked the monsters RNR and Bonus back into bed and sat down at the kitchen table to discuss all the happenings of the evening, which included the increasingly-romantic throwing of paper across the bus to get her attention (him) followed by the requisite eye rolls (her).  Isn't this exactly how you remember sixth grade romance?  If only paper thrown across a vehicle could still make my heart skip a beat.  Those were the days.

Not.  Okay, maybe a little.  Don't try paper throwing on me now though; I'll just smack you.  But, I love hearing all the stories of her current crush, and I love that she shares down to the tiniest detail with me.  I do not take this for granted.

     

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Tip of the Day

Under no circumstances should you stack four Capri Sun boxes on the top shelf of your pantry and then think you can deftly pull out the box that is two from the bottom.  Trust me.

A Dingo Ate My Weekend

I thought I would get a chance to get caught up here this weekend, but, invariably, it was not to be. 

I did do at least twelve loads of laundry, and I noticed an ongoing trend in my coffee table laundry piles:

38%-Mr. Incredible (He works out every. single. day.  Thus, two to three changes per day.)
24%-Miss Proper (Junior high fashion woes.)
22%-RNR (Never met a white shirt she could not permanently stain the first time she wears it.)
10%-Bonus (Rarely wears pants on non-school days).
5%-General Household Items
1%-Reckless


Everytime I do laundry, I wonder how it is humanly possible for my little family to wear that much clothing. Because I do laundry almost every day.  At least three times a week.  My pile will generally contain several pairs of panties, one or two nightgowns, a blouse, a t-shirt, a twin holder, and a skirt or other assorted bottom.  Sometimes two bottoms and two blouses.  But only if there has been a ketchup incident.  Or illness.  And even then, my little pile represents about one percent of all laundry sorted, washed, dried, folded and put away. 

I'm thinking of a little experiment where the two female children have to do a week's worth of laundry each.  I'll let you know how that works out for me.  I have a feeling they might decide to embrace the "jeans-do-not-need-to-be washed-every-single-time-you wear-them" philosophy that their mother adheres to.  In college, I wore a fantastic pair of men's Gap jeans for an entire semester without washing them.  Granted, by the end of the semester, they could stand in the corner by themselves and would shuffle over to my bed when I called them in the morning, but, they were soft and fit me perfectly.  And, no, they did not look disgusting or smell.  I'm pretty sure they were lucky jeans, too, because I had never had so many dates.  I'm all for the raw denim movement.  If you are unfamiliar with this, click here. 

And any thought I may have had about getting caught up after the weekend, well, they were also dashed when I spent the better parts of Tuesday and Wednesday in bed with the WORST stomachache I have had in a long time.  Apparently, a nasty little bug has been going around, and it was my turn to host said virus.  Not very fun. 

Today I have to make up for the last two days by cleaning, doing laundry, and going to the Krogert because we literally have no cheese.  I think this is the first time in sixteen and a half years of marriage that this has happened.  It's basically a state of emergency in our home.  I'm not sure how I let my home get into such a sad state.  I will rectify by purchasing copious amounts of cheddar, feta, cottage, mozzarella, parmesan, mexican blend, and shingle cheese right now.
     

Friday, October 8, 2010

Can You Spell Why? You Mean the Letter Y? No, Why? Why Don't I Give You a Sentence?

I'm pretty sure that nobody else can boast that when helping children learn spelling words that the lyrics of a Kajagoogoo song were sung.  These were followed by a rousing rendition of "Rocky Mountain High."    Yes, that is exactly how we roll.  They have to learn it.  You might as well make it memorable and enjoyable.  Gwen Stefani is awesome for learning to spell a certain fruit.  As long as RNR is able to only sing in her head during the test.  And I can see her busting out in song in the middle of class because that little girl not only lives in a musical, she actually IS a musical.  Ask her about Hemfanotalee sometime.  You'll see what I mean.

I know I've been spotty on here lately.  I really haven't had much to say (I know you are in a serious state of disbelief).  Plus, I have a bad case of the Blahs.  The blahs were served with a double portion of discouragement.  And even though the indigestion was AWFUL, I have decided to have a dessert of not talking about it, also called avoidance.  It's my specialty, I'm afraid.  I'm working on it.  Kinda.  Maybe.  Ok, not as much as I should.  I'll get right on that. Stat. 

What have I been up to?  Lots of lunches with pals, LOTS of shopping, an embarassing and uncomfortable dinner with friends, huge disappointments, softball games with crying and bat throwing because of bad calls by the most evil ump who ever walked on God's green earth (there may be no crying in baseball, but I assure you that there is and always will be crying in softball), crafting (against my will, of course), very little cleaning, and many loads of laundry (ah... the status quo.  I can always count on Tide.).  It's just life getting in the way.  It's a three day weekend with ONLY two softball games, one birthday party, one baby shower, one meeting and, of course, worship.  We will see if I can get caught up here and elsewhere.  

Today's Friday favorite is lunch with a friend who makes me laugh.  Hysterically.  Even if I am the kind of girl who more often than not laughs on inside only.  I could use some of that kind of medicine today.  I may OD.      
 

Friday, October 1, 2010

Three and a Half Hours Later...

...I look almost exactly like I did going into the hair salon.  Only I'm now $$$ poorer.  And I was told that I can't go any blonder because my hair doesn't like it.  Hmph!  Yes, I did point my nose up in the air at that.

I do love getting my hair done on a Friday though.  Sitting under a dryer for forty-five minutes reading People with no one interrupting me is pretty much a dream.

As to the Last Hair-rah,  I'm still working on rocking the long hair.  When you are curly, it takes twice as long because curly hair really has to have the weight to pull it down.  For a long time, it just gets puffier and puffier.  When I straighten it out, it might be at the base of my neck.  Maybe it will be at the base of my neck without straightening it by my birthday.  I'll have my big eighties hair back by the time I'm forty-two.  

Thursday, September 30, 2010

It's Still There

On the roof of the concession stand. 

We had a softball game at said field on Tuesday night, and the first thing RNR, Bonus, and I did was to go behind the concession stand and gaze up at the roof.  Next time we go, I will take a camera. I know.  I should have had a camera with me to record Miss Proper's softball heroics, but I am not a camera mom, just like I was never a bib mom, a wipey mom, an extra-pair-of-clothes mom.  It just doesn't occur to me before I leave the house.

I'm pretty sure it has melted onto the green tin roof, which means it will most likely be there until they tear that building down.  All of the printed-on color has faded and the yellow rubber has a slighty grayish tint now, but it is definitely RNR's flipflop.  It is still there.  Go look for yourself. 

Friday, September 24, 2010

Friday Favorites

A new series.  We will see if I stick with it or not. 

I have such a busy day with laundry, packing, Bike Rodeo, etc. that I am gonna make this short and sweet.

My Favorite Sweets:

1.  Creme Brulee'-- This treat is especially delicious if you eat it at 9:30 pm after all your kids are in bed and no one is asking if they can have a bite of the crunchy goodness that is carmelized sugar.  I also found that you can eat your way across Disney World with creme brulee'.  Just about every sitdown restaurant in any of the four parks or Disney hotels has its own variety of this yummy custard.  I was particularly fond of the version at The Brown Derby.  Pappas Bros. Steakhouse has an incredible ramekin of it with fresh berries in the custard.  Delish.

2.  Red Vines-- Contrary to what the commercials say, Twizzlers do not make mouths happy.  In fact, every little mouth in my house thinks Twizzlers make mouths very, very sad.  Our breakfast conversation this morning detailed how Twizzlers taste like dirt or rubber or even dirty rubber.  We like Red Vines.  You can bite off each end and use it as a cherry straw to drink your coke.  When I was a freshman and sophomore at Biola University, I used to buy the four pound tubs of these and eat the whole thing during finals week.  At least they have wheat in them.  That's wholesome, right?  That was also why I pushed the "freshman fifteen" to its extreme limit. 

3.  Dark chocolate-- Why people stirred milk into chocolate I will never understand.  The darker the better.  And dark chocolate with sea salt or dark chocolate with bacon in it. That's some kind of good.

4. Hot fudge-- Need I say more?

5.  Cheesecake-- The food of fat bottoms.  Worth every pound and deposit of cellulite.  Especially if eaten at an actual Cheesecake Factory.

6.  Dairy Queen-- Dipped cone, blizzard, all of it.  Creamy goodness.  If I'm lucky I will get some later today or on Sunday. 

7.  Peanut Butter and Jelly Milkshakes--  Don't turn your nose.  Try it.  You like it.  Preferably from Ruby's.  Particularly Ruby's in Seal Beach.  At sunset.  Now that's a milkshake.

8.  Bananas Foster-- Perfect in New Orleans.  There's butter in it and rum.  You can't go wrong with that combo. 

9.  Chocolate Covered Strawberries-- Two of my favorites combined together in one dessert.  And they look pretty, too.  Plus, I'm "sexy like chocolate covered strawberry".  That will be lost on many of you people, but it will make at least two of you laugh audibly.

10.  Homemade cookies--Mr. Incredible makes a mean chocolate chip.  Just ask him.  I also LOVE oatmeal raisin and snickerdoodles.  They just make you smile.

So much for short.  Have a sweet weekend!

Thursday, September 23, 2010

He's Mine Alright

Last night the children and I ventured through the unsavory part of town (uh...  are the doors locked?) to the not-so-fabulous Love Evolution to pick up Mr. Incredible.  He had been away on business for FIVE days; hence, the strong need for a do-over.  The sun was setting as we drove toward the airport, and it was quite a lovely sky.  From the back seat comes the small voice of Bonus,

Mommy, it's was really kind of pretty when the sun just went down.  It looked like flowers melting in the snow.

Bestill my heart.  My budding little wordsmith creating pictures with his voice!  Although he looks and acts just like Mr. Incredible, that there is some hard evidence that there is a piece of me in that little body.