Friday, February 25, 2011

Happy Birthday Mr. Incredible!

Tucked away in the extra fridge.  Didn't RNR do a nice job with the m&ms?

Even grown ups deserve party plates

Trying out the new truck

Purdy.
The annual birthday request: Noodles, Meat, & Cheese
Mr. Incredible's favorite childhood meal that I make ONCE a year.
Regular people call it cheeseburger macaroni.
I think I'll go straight to the cake & ice cream...

Was it the best birthday ever?  I think he likey.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Again, from the mouth of Bonus

Bonus: Mommy, can you give me that stuff that you spray the air wuf when it's stinky.  You know, the kind that goes "pssssssht" and is in the blue can.

Me: And you need this why?

Bonus: [pinching nose] Because the bathroom is P.U.  It smells like rats.

Me: Rats?  What do rats smell like?

Bonus: You know, like mices.  They smell like mices.

Me: Uh-huh. We can take care of that, I think.  [Spray located and in hand following him to the offending bathroom.]

I don't think the bathroom would smell so much like "rats" or "mices" if the small people in my house could pick up this little talent called flushing.


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

"I've Got a Secret and I Can't Explain..."

"...All the time, I've waited for this day" 

One of my 80's faves.  OMD.

If you know the secret, SHHHHHH!  Mum's the word.

It's the true Xanadu.  THE dream.  And I am so nervous I want to puke.  Puke, I tell you.  I'll let you know as soon as I know.  Hopefully, I'll have an indictation by 10 pm on Wednesday.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I *Might* Live with a Redneck

Okie-dokie, peeps.  Put your thick skin on for a moment.  

Remember that I have lived in Alabama, Tennessee, Florida, and Texas and genuinely appreciated and loved each place.  I consider myself a Southern girl.  Born in Knoxville, Tennessee in Fort Sanders.  I say fixin' and y'all and figure.  I have been known to use the expression "full of piss and vinegar."  I put my groceries in a buggy.  I know how it feels to be "full as a tick".  I would consider it a GRAVE insult if someone called me a Yankee. I know the words to "Rocky Top" and "Dixie".  I always have pimiento cheese in my fridge, and sometimes, I even make it myself.  I truly like RC Cola and everything with bubbles is a Coke to me.  Even an RC.

I have vacationed mostly by choice in the Carolinas, Arkansas, Georgia, Mississippi, Louisiana, West Virginia, Virginia, and Kentucky.  Beautiful and unique sights, sounds, customs, and culinary delights abound in each of these.  I have sites I want to return to in each of these states.  The mist hanging over the Smoky Mountains.  Absolutely breathtaking.  Haunting.  It's been far too long...    

I can do without a return ticket to Opp, Alabama though.  Teenage girls bring a roll of toliet paper in the truck with them when they go out for a ride with their boyfriends.  "Considerate" boys keep a spare, so the girls don't have to tote the Charmin.  Talk about true romance.  I would hand boy and girl a sign...   But even Opp has some charm. And a huge amount of Kudzu...

I'm going off on one of my tangents though...

Thanks for hanging on.  Here's the real point of this post. 

Mr. Incredible is in the midst of a job change.  It means good things for our family.  A nice raise is always a good thing, isn't it?  Company stability is desirable.  A Northern boss who doesn't drop the F-word in meetings with true Southern gentlemen or while he is on Sync with your kids in the car will be refreshing.  Mr. Incredible has four more days to wrap up with the current company, and on Monday he moves over to the new place.  Very similar job, same industry, different products. 

No company car.

Now, we have had a company car for nearly twelve years.  New car every year or two.  All maintenance taken care of and paid for at the expense of the company. 

really like having a company car.  Mainly because I am a girl who resents car payments.  And a girl who sees cars as a means of transporation, not an indicator of who I am or what I am worth.  Mr. Incredible and I had about two years worth of car payments early in our marriage, and I coudn't stand it.  I made double and triple and extra payments until it was paid off, but we were double income then and could afford to do so.  Even still, we didn't eat much in those two years...       

And now we have to go buy a vehicle.

And not just any vehicle.

Something presentable.

Something that carries the weight and presence of "success".

No hooptie.

No beaters.

Nothing used.

A brand, spanking new car.

With a price tag that makes me sweat.

Buckets.

And then some.

And since we live in Texas, it's gotta be a truck.  Because in Mr. Incredible's industry if you show up in say, a Jeep Liberty or a sedan, you are basically telling the boys club that you are a "girly man" and that they should not buy from you.  He would hear comments like, "Do you wanna park your car in the bed of my truck?" or "Is your truck in the shop because I see you are driving your wife's car again."  It's good-natured ribbing and all, but in business (unlike the carpool line), the vehicle does matter.  Yo, you gotta represent.  4 real.  Fo-sho.  I'm not playin'.  Word.

And I want him to sell well.  Better than well.  Mama wants her raise, too.  There are places to go, people to see, heels that need rocking, Wicked Skatewear with my name on it...

So, I have had to read no less than one hundred invoices that he has pulled up.  That is not a typo or an overestimation.  He's obsessive.  He researches night and day and then some more.  He adds on another option, and I see dollar signs.  He ups the size of the rims, and I see my '57 convertible drive off with strangers in it.  And then, if it's deemed worthy, we have to go see it in person...  And that takes ALL FREAKIN' DAY. 

And you gotta play nice with Mr. Slick.  Vomit.  I hate that.  Especially since we get A plan pricing thanks to my most magnificent, talented, intelligent bro-in-law who is a mechanical engineer for Ford in Dearborn.  He designed the cam shafts and pulleys and other thingys in the F-150 engine.  Yes, you are the man.  You rock.  I am in awe of you.  Is that enough kissing up yet?  Let me know if I need to do more. 

I say just buy the $%*&^ truck already. 

It's easy.  Red.  Tan leather.  Air-conditioned seats.  Back-up camera.  Chrome package.  Side step.  Under this price.

NO GUN RACK.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I love a man in a truck.  Truly, my first choice for so many reasons that I won't get into right now.  But even though trucks are the state car of Texas, I don't want anyone to hand me a sign.   Three people have already tried to hand this sign to me this week.  And Mr. Incredible took the sign and asked if I minded if he installed a gun rack in the truck he hasn't even bought yet.  Now I'm wondering if there is a noodling trip or deer lease payment in my future.  Or Wranglers...

They law!  Lord, help.  

   
   

Which one of these things is not like the other?


Picture of RNR from the "photo shoot" at a friend's sleepover this weekend

Rock-N-Roll Princess likes to make word collages on the computer at school during her free time.  Like her mother, she is still learning to spell. Somehow, this child tested out of spelling for the rest of the year in November.  I'd like to see this test.  Apparently, the words coffee, friends, wordless, puppies and victorious are not on this list.  Yesterday she did spell promotion correctly, so maybe it is an okay test.  BTW, the one on top is the most current (last Friday).  The other two are from last semester.  At least she has learned how to spell beautiful correctly.  I'm really not dogging on her spelling abilities; rather, I am getting that "ouch" of parenting knowing she may get her spelling abilities from her mother.  I still have to look up the correct spelling of particular words as a forty year old.

And I love that she has "beautiful", "love", "grace", "loving" and "spectacular" in her collages; it shows me that she feels comfortable and secure in who she is.

But I ask you to look carefully for the ONLY word that appears in all three collages.        





What can I say about the appearance of the word bacon in every collage?  It would be a shame for such a precious girl to truly wrap her identity around a pork product.  Maybe we call her "The Baconator" a little too frequently...


Thursday, February 17, 2011

My Heart Was Singing

Yesterday was a glorious day!  The weather was gorgeous, and I got out in it a bit.  However, I chose to stay inside for most of the afternoon.  Quit shaking your head at me.  It was a wonderful decision.  And my allergies were kicking up something awful, and I had no "D" to get me through the day.  And Sam's and Costco were not on my list for the day. 

And you are probably wondering why I would choose to stay inside after the two weeks of unrelenting ice, snow, sleet, frozen Tundra that was North Texas...

I won't leave you in suspense any longer...

Okay, just a little longer because anticipation is half the fun...

Because I got to do something really awesome.

Better than awesome.

In fact, it was just plain RAD.

Something I had NEVER done before.

Something I have only dreamed about....

Alright.  I'm done.

I got to go roller skating, and the circumstances which led to this particular session of roller skating are pee-in-your-pants funny, but I'm not telling that story.  At least today.  It's too embarassing for even me.  I have to have a few secrets.  And I know that roller skating is not new to me, and my love of skating is not new to you.  I've shared that with you on here and elsewhere.  I've been to the ER with one of you after you broke both bones in your arm while skating with me.  I've beat a couple of you in the eighteen and over race.  I've skated my heart through afternoon VBS activities.  Some of you went to the private birthday party the girls had there.  I've heard my maiden name called from the snack bar as I crossed over through the turn (last summer--I thought I was hearing things for a minute.).  I've shared nachos in the snack bar with a few of you.  Some of us have grooved to the Cha Cha Slide on wheels or done the Hokey Pokey.  Some of you have chased me around the rink.  Several of you know that if I had planned my own birthday party that it would have been there, after hours, with an umbrella policy because of the beverages.  BTW... It would have been fabulous.  And there are still more birthdays.  You never know.

You already know I love to skate.

But yesterday, I got to skate alone.  And I don't just mean without one of my kids dragging me down next to me.  I mean alone.

It was a private rink.

Me and the wooden floor and the music and the lights.  And it was spectacular.

And I skated my little heart out for an hour and a half without stopping.  No breaks. 

Bonus left me alone.  It was like he knew this was a special time for mommy that he had better not screw around with.  And he and I skated a little first.  But, he doesn't love to skate yet, and he would rather fool around with the video games.  Plus, there was that small bribe I gave him,  "Let Mommy skate for a bit, and I will take you directly to Chuck E. Cheese and get $10 worth of tokens when I am done."  Which is like trading heaven for hell, if you ask me (I love you, William.  Glad it provides a good livelihood for you and the family.).  But we both got what we wanted.  And I was lucky enough to learn two things while at Chuck E. Cheese.  The first one is that starfish apparently have no brains, which is a fact that somehow managed to elude me until yesterday.  The other is more painful and less useful.  And, I believe, incorrect.  They announced that the song "Baby" by Justin Bieber says the word "baby" 55 times.  And I am the enormous dork who took that as a challenge and actually counted this word the next 3 times they played it.  I got 56 "baby" utterances.  Check it out for yourself if you dare...  William, you might want to talk to the people at the home office, stat.  Just sayin'.  You wouldn't want to feed incorrect drivel to our impressionable kids.  Useless drivel is one thing... 

Back to the skating... 
Sometimes I put all my power into it and went crazy fast.  Almost too fast at times because I'm not excellent at stopping when I'm going that fast.  Still working on that.  But I never fell, and I never lost control.  I went full bore for fifteen minute increments, and then I slowed because: a) I had only eaten a protein bar with three cups of half-caff coffee that morning, b) I was sweaty, and I hate to be all sweaty, c) it gets a little hot in there, and most importantly, d) the music changed and I can't fast skate to Taylor Swift.  I didn't even want to skate to Taylor Swift, let alone listen to her, but no one asked me.  Actually, there was no one to ask me; they were all working in the office.

While The Beatles played, I slowed down even more and felt the floor.  The ridges in the rink.  The skates rubbing on my calves.  And I weaved all over the floor because I didn't have to follow the rink direction.

After the blister and bruise I got yesterday, I have finally decided it is time to break down and buy the big girl skates from here.  Green wheels are not optional.  Maybe I can get on that right after New York.  Gotta focus on that itinerary right now.

All I can say about this event is that it was sheer indulgence that I just happened upon.  Am I a lucky girl or what?

Next time I'm bringing my own IPod.  With a soundtrack of Evanescence, The Smashing Pumpkins, The Clash, Boston, Wings, The Beastie Boys, War, Saturday Night Fever, KC & the Sunshine Band, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, a smidge of Lynyrd Skynyrd (what good Samford graduate doesn't have this on his/her life soundtrack--It picks me up when I'm feeling blue. Now how 'bout you?  Tell the truth.), Queen, Ben Folds Five, The Cars.  And, okay, a little Level 42, Modern English, and Simply Red to warm up and cool down with.  And, yes, Alabama, because even people who abhor country music would have to admit that "The Closer You Get" and "Take Me Down" are sultry, delicious songs if they would listen to them.  They won't listen to them though.  And that just leaves more for those of us who know the truth about that.

For those ninety minutes, I had my own personal Xanadu moment.  I hope I get another...





Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Review: Gel Manicure Removal

Let's just start where we left off.  Shall we?

Due to FIVE snow days in two weeks and all the shuffling and rescheduling that resulted from that misery,  I was unable to return to FloMo nails to experience the surprise removal technique that Tiffany had yammered on about.

It was Saturday--fifteen days after the manicure.  Things were getting ugly.  Actually, they were a little obscene.  You see, the polish on my left middle finger has lifted off entirely.  My other fingers, barely a chip.  I felt like I was SCREAMING "sit and spin" to every person I saw.  And that is just so not me.  I'm just not one to tell people to "peel the banana", "to read between the lines" or that they are number one.  The gel just hard to go, and I mean PRONTO!  Mr. Incredible was off gallivanting on the Florida coast, so I had no choice but to Google "home gel manicure removal."

And the results were pretty conclusive.  You are going to have to do some work to get these puppies off, lady.  And work I did.

Here's what finally worked:

1.  Soak cotton balls with acetone and apply one to each nail.
2.  Wrap each finger in aluminum foil.
3.  Turn the blow dryer on each finger for about a minute.
4.  Sit by the fire and wait 15-20 minutes.
5.  Remove the foil and use toothpicks to scrape off as much as possible.
6.  Go back over each nail with acetone.  Remove the last traces with a nail file.

And plan to scare the children and men who come over to your home because your hands look like they belong to Frederica Krueger.  Let's just call it Nightmare on Reckless Street.

Pretty.
      

Monday, February 14, 2011

To Whom It May Concern

It has recently been brought to my attention that Miss Proper no longer wishes to be called Miss Proper.  I asked her if she would prefer if I called her Trixie, Trina, or Bunny.  She didn't laugh.  Menstrual Queen brought a look of panic.  Cute Boy Stalker is out, too...  And so, we shall be on the lookout for a more suitable moniker for her.  Suggestions welcomed, even encouraged.  I. Got. Nothin'.  Zip. Zero. Zilch.  It was hard enough coming up with her first pseudonym.  It guess I could just call her Number One.

In other news, in "celebrating us,"

(yak...  I'm not much for the day of love anyway, but did Hallmark really have to do that to us?  Seriously?  Celebrate the people you love when you want to not on the day the peer pressure is on.  "Honey, I bought you a card and gift because I'm supposed to..."  The romance.)

Out of respect for the brainwashed, romantics, friends-whose-feelings-I-don't-want-to-hurt, Erm...  In an attempt to personally jumpstart the failing U.S. economy, I treated myself to new heels,



new boots,



a glamorous new nightie, and the fixins for sour cherry martinis.  I made up the recipe by myself, and it tasted like a cherry lollipop.



And, oh yes, Mr. Incredible took me out for a sushi lunch.  The sashimi was like buttah.  He also made cajun pasta for dinner because the children love it.  Plus, there were the chocolate-covered strawberries that we both enjoyed. 

And, apparently, I feel I must do serious penance for some sin I have committed, as I actually spent money on a Justin Bieber disc for RNR.  It was what she really wanted for her heart day giftie, so I caved.  Hearing "It's like baby, baby, baby oh..." at 6:30AM does not spell good morning in my world.  Then, in a moment of complete insanity, I also promised RNR and Bonus I would take them to see the new Justin Bieber movie.  Miss Proper said she was out, but I told her that if I had to go, she would accompany me to hell.  Was that wrong of me?  It will probably be interesting.  Or two hours of my life that I can never get back.  I'll let you know. 



Sunday, February 13, 2011

Excuse My French

From the mouth of Bonus:

"Mommy, do not say rotten.  Say decay.  The oranges are decaying."

Po-tay-to. Po-tah-to.  Either way, the oranges were growing penicillin.


Friday, February 11, 2011

Because we can't have a day without excitement around here...

This is what I woke up to yesterday morning:


If you look carefully, you can see the water dripping from the light fixture.

Fortunately, the burst pipe was right over my kitchen sink.
Convenient, right?

It quickly started to creep and grow.  Plumber could you get here 30 minutes ago? Time travel costs extra?  Nevermind.  Just get here when you can.

This is my plumber Michael.  He's a nice guy who grew up in Pasadena and lived in a house built in 1905.  He's 6'3", so he didn't need a ladder.  His dad used to wear a football helmet to go in the basement.  I guess you had to be there.  He got to meet 3BoyMom and Joy; he's a lucky man. And a patient man.  He had to answer the same plumbing questions 3 times, but he got $$$ for his patience.  He also gave me a break on the $$$ because I gave him a Coke Zero.  He could have charged me more for having to work over his head.  He could have charged me for having to explore two floors to find the leak.  He did not.  According to Michael's calculations, the Coke Zero saved me about $300.  Okay, maybe it was because I talked to him while he worked, too.  And made him laugh a little.  Or a lot.
 
The replaced pipe is on the right.  Nice soldering, Michael. 


See that little crack?  Who knew something so small would wreak havoc on my kitchen?  Certainly, not I.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Progress

Well, my stylist says we are finally getting somewhere.  In March I am going to be the rock star I am in my head on the outside, too.  I can hardly wait.  I don't want to give everything away, but let's just say there may be a few green feathers involved.  Just for kicks. And just in time for New York.

I didn't even realize I had the cute dark underneath look until Bonus took a picture of it for me.


Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Four Days Into Captivity


The Reckless Ski Resort
Tubing, sledding, and even snowboarding.  On a toy box lid.
Impressive.


Heading off on the Oregon Trail for supplies...

"Go this way, really fast.  If something gets in your way, turn." 





The battlefield.
After I put the wet stuff in the dryer...
"I'm sick with this.  Straight gangsta mack."



And it's starting all over again tomorrow...  Where is the love?


Monday, February 7, 2011

Review: Gel Manicures

Eleven days ago, I had a new-fangled gel manicure at FloMo Nails.  It's near the newest Krogert in town. This manicure was three times more expensive than a regular manicure is, but it is supposed to last three times longer.  I figured I would try it once because: 1) I had an hour to kill before my hair appointment, 2) I'll try almost anything once, and 3) If it really does last three times as long, it will save both time and money.

Here is what it looked like the day I got it:


Yes, I'm still loving the ring!

And here is what is it looked like the following Friday:



I burned my hand on the fireplace during day two of Icemageddon (what idiot started that?)
Finally, on day eleven:



Could someone please ask my mother how her hands got in my pictures?

As you can see, the color is holding up quite nicely.  I normally have chips on the ends of my nails on the second day after a manicure.  No chips.  Plus, my nails have not split, cracked, or broken during this nearly two week period. 

Unfortunately (in this particular case), my nails grow quickly.  The main detractor from this manicure is going to be the grow-out near the cuticle.  And you have to go back to the nail salon to get this polish removed (Something about wrapping your nails in acetone-soaked cotton and foil then applying heat. blah. blah. blah.  I was thinking about my hair appointment.  I tuned Tiffany out.  It will be a surprise.) 

Then, there was also the experience of the manicure itself.  It wasn't until I got home that I thought about my hands being in the UV nail dryer for at least 20 minutes.  And of course, the skin cancer thought popped into my head.  So I googled it and found this interesting article.

And you need to completely love the color.  Because you are going to be wearing it for a stinkin' long time.  They had no green.  I'm going back to regular.

Probably only worth the extra expense and exposure to cancer and aging if you are going on vacation somewhere where you can't find a nail salon on any and every corner.  I *might* get one again if we do indeed go to Tahiti in two years.   

Friday, February 4, 2011

Because she double-dog dared me...

After accidental brushes with Mary's twins all night, we just decided it was better to get it over with.

You know I'll always win in the dare, Mare... 

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Parental Guidance Strongly Suggested

Day three of the neverending snow day saga, and just like you, I am officially over this much togetherness and staying in my house.  If everyone has to stay home from school again tomorrow, I have a strong suspicion that someone is going to get hurt. 

Because I am going to have to cancel my facial.  And I have been waiting for this treat for weeks now. I LOVE a facial, and I am long overdue. 

Plus, my B&B trip to Fredricksburg with my friends has been cancelled.  The road are too dangerous. More snow is expected tonight, so we had to pull the plug...  And unfortunately, we can't reschedule until the summer.  The children are so disappointed that they don't get to have a daddy only weekend where they eat pizza for two nights and no one makes them bathe or change their clothing.  And I'm disappointed that I don't get to stay up for two nights talking about books and movies, listening to music, playing games, and possibly enjoying an adult beverage (or three).

We were able to LEAVE our home for a couple of hours today.  Mr. Incredible has an all-wheel drive vehicle, so we bundled everyone up, headed over to church to clean up from the Moms, Inc. meeting that did not happen on Tuesday (thanks for beating me to the punch, Miller.  You rock!), ran into the grocery store for coffee creamer (emergency!), and ate lunch at Pei Wei.  For once we did not have to wait even one minute for a table.  Un. heard. of. 

And I just now got a text saying that school is cancelled again tomorrow.  For the love of all things holy...

I think I'm just going to walk outside without my hat, coat, and gloves, lie down in the snow, and wait to die.  It will be far quicker and far less painful that way...  And no one else will get hurt.  And there will be no blood to clean up or try to get off of anyone's clothing.  Care to join me?

I told Mr. Incredible that in light of the unfortunate cancellation of my girls' weekend that he could feel free to board me on the next plane headed west.  Vegas or Southern California would be my top picks.  I really wouldn't have to worry about packing since I have three layers on already.  Just throw a toothbrush in my purse and go! 

Three words from Mr. Incredible on that: 

Not.
Gonna.
Happen.

Hmph!  Darn!  You can't blame a frozen girl for trying to get the heck out of dodge, can you?

And now, for a little PG-13+ snow day fun, so that you might have a little giggle and walk two steps back from the edge of insanity...

If we have eaten Chinese together, you definitely know my game...








Did you read them all?  Can you guess which one is mine?  Now, go back to each one, read them out loud, and add "in bed" to the end of each fortune.  It makes me laugh every. single. time.  Yes, I already know I'm not that appropriate.