Oh, I Left You Hanging!

I forgot to follow up and tell you that Max survived BD Headquarters just fine. I'm pretty sure I saw pure, unadulterated joy in his eyes when we brought him back into the classroom Monday morning, though. Surrounded by 22 children and their noise and their funk, he can finally get a damn. moment's. peace.

Swerving onto a new topic, I didn't post yesterday because I was dealing with myriad "crises" which I'm sure I blew into ridiculous proportions yesterday, but as of today, were really not that big a deal.

On Sunday, as we were driving to a local park, my passenger side window suddenly dropped straight down into the door frame. No warning. No shattering, thank goodness. And no, it wasn't the same door that got smashed. Just disappeared. Weirdest thing. So I can't drive around with the window down forever, because hello? It's Texas and I NEED air conditioning.

However, I'm still fighting a sore throat from a week ago, and yesterday I was planning a trip to the doctor, not the car place. What to do, what to do. Dilemma solved by 5-year-old waking up "sick". I think her "illness" from last week which caused her to miss two days of school has led her to believe that it's jim dandy to phone it in when she doesn't feel like hitting the books. I took her temp and it was 99.4, which, I mean, COME ON, that's not sick! However, The Man guilted me into it I didn't want my baby to suffer so I let her stay home, which complicated the whole car/health situation.

Decided to suck it up and just get the van worked on because I REALLY needed to have it fixed before my classes on Wednesday, and who goes to the doctor about a sore throat anyway? Found a place to get it dealt with and went to tell Loodle that we had to go, and wouldn't you know it? She was FINE and wondered if we were meeting The Man for lunch at McDonald's. Um, no, you don't stay home sick and get to go to McDonald's! You sip weak broth and be miserable like the rest of us.

Turns out the regulator motor deal broke on the window thingy, so $330 and my left kidney later, good as new.

But my throat still hurts. And I got hoodwinked by a 5-year-old Ferris Bueller. And I'm a big whiner. Hey look! I made it into a big deal after all!

Happy Birthday Mom

This is my Mom, Donna.

I love her to pieces, and she's so small and petite compared to me that I could fit her right in my pocket.

She is my role model.

She has shown me beauty.

She has shown me gentleness.

She has shown me strength.

She has shown me unconditional love.

She's a spectacular Grandmother, showing me how to be a better parent through her example.

I love you, Mom. More than words can say.

Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!

We've got an intruder. An interloper.

A hamster, to be precise. Boodle's 3rd grade class mascot is Max the white bellied dwarf hamster. We get to take care of him this weekend, and he comes with cage, food and hamster travel ball.

(Please pretend you don't see the detritous in my formal living room. Thank you.)

I fear for Max. I really do. My girls have never had a fluffy, fuzzy animal to love and squeeze and call George. I'm nervous they my two Lenny's are going to LOVE him to DEATH. I've already had to admonish them twice that no, he doesn't want you to FLY him around the room, and no, despite the fact that he appears warm, he really doesn't need to be cooled down with his water bottle so go get a towel for crying out loud what are you trying to do DROWN HIM??!!??

"Dude, help me out here!"



"Seriously, lady, get me the freakin' frack OUT of here!"



"*GASP* Must. loosen. hold."

He is a heartbeat away from becoming MY pet to care for this weekend, because dammit I'm NOT digging a hamster grave and going to the pet store to try and find his brothers and sisters that please God would look just. like. him.

Hey, Buy These Labels

My sister in law created these awesome removable labels to help keep your kids organized.

She rocks. The labels rock. Now go get some already!

http://clutterfreekids.com/pro1386396.html

Sorry for not making it all cool and clickable, but Blogger hates me today.

Wordless Wednesday: When Paths Diverge

Alternate Title: When Good Hikes Go Bad

Alternate Alternate Title: When Eight Year Olds Can't Make or Live With Decisions

Alternate Alternate Alternate Title: Don't Go For a Hike In Texas in the Summer

Fashion Tuesday, Sort Of

I don't really have a great Fashion Tuesday post. In fact, I haven't had a great one in a while, but I was perusing pictures of the girls that I took last week, and found some that sort of qualify, but mostly lead into another post topic. This post is more about the play structure in our back yard.

Oh, you didn't know we had a big play structure in our back yard? Yeah, neither do the kids, apparently, because the thing has been gathering dust and wasp nests virtually since we put it in.

There are several factors working against us in our quest to get the kids to use the thing, the most prevalent one being the Texas heat. When it's 103 degrees outside, no one wants to go frolic in the sun. And you know what else you don't want to do? Touch anything that's been sitting in the sun for longer than 37 seconds, because you could fry an egg on it. So imagine a structure made up of plastic and metal parts, and you see the trouble.

Another factor is one of laziness. Not particularly on the girls' part but on ours. Any number of times, they've implored us to come outside and sit and watch them to a million flips and turns and scale monkey bars and push me on the swings! The Man and I are simply too lazy to get up and go stand outside and watch this again. Isn't that why we put the thing in, so we didn't have to schlepp to the park with them? Geesh.

Lastly, the allure of play structures diminishes a million-fold when you put one in your own back yard. It's much cooler to go to someone else's house and use their awesome equipment.

However, last week the temperature during the day was only (ONLY!) in the high 80's, and the girls were bored after dinner, so I shooed them outside onto the play structure. OMG, we have a play structure? We do! With swings! And a slide! And are those MONKEY BARS? Yoweeeaaaaaahoooo!

Luckily, it was the golden hour, so I got some great lighting on the girls' pics. As I perused them today, I actually looked at what they were wearing, and I'd like to say they just threw this stuff on to go out and play in, but no, this is what they think GOES together. In Loodle's defense, I bought that skirt for her knowing full well she really had nothing that matched the colors, so it's all my fault. And Boodle wishes youa Merry Christmas.

Notes From The Gym

Some thoughts, musings if you will, from my trip to the gym today:

1. If you're a regular at the gym and use weights, please let me know if I'm justified in being pissy with they guy in the red shirt. I was using the machine that has 4 stations with weights attached to various lifting/pulling devices: bar that you sit and pull down behind your head, "W" shaped bar that you can pull down/push down, handles that you sit and pull toward you like you're rowing, and two half orbs attached to rope that you pull down and apart. I'd done two sets already, and the guy in the red shirt had been working out near me for about 10 minutes. He decided to come over and remove the half orb/rope thingy and attach another "W" shaped bar to that side and use it.

The hell? Why didn't he just use the one that was already attached? He clearly saw me going around using all the equipment. Not to mention that there was an entire other weight equipment lifting center deal completely unused right next to us. I didn't know what to do, being a newby to the equipment, so I just finished my last set on the other 3 sides and went to work on legs. And before you say it, don't delude yourself into thinking this was his attempt to hit on me. I'm 37 and about 3 inches taller and 30 pounds heavier than this guy. Unless he goes for that, and his idea of a meet-cute is pissing women off. Angry Amazons are HOT.

2. Another etiquette gripe, but this one smaller and more petty. One of the leg machines is the Hip Abductor, whereby you sit, set the weight, put your legs between the pads and press them outward. There was a lady doing a gajillion reps on this machine, resting, and then doing 4 billion more. Isn't this considered bad manners? Aren't you supposed to move around, rotate machines when other people are using the equipment? Not to mention, when you're done, reset the equipment so that the next person can get on it, instead of having to release the pads themselves. How many extra steps must I perform in my workout I ask you???

3. Hey, when you are packing your gym bag with clothes because you have some crucial shopping to do after you're done, please, for the love of all things decent, don't forget to pack your pants. DON'T FORGET TO PACK YOUR PANTS. Thank you.

4. Always always always have a spare set of clothing in your van. Just, you know, to have around.

5. Don't forget to bring a small towel with you to the gym. Not because you're so sweaty, but to wipe up the drool that develops while you're surreptitiously ogling your former trainer, who is 24, HOT, and young enough to be your son.

Wordless Wednesday: Ninja Cat-Why Can't I Stop Watching This?

High and Dry

We're all safe, sound and completely dry here in central Texas. We didn't see so much as a drop of rain here. Would have liked to get some, as our lake is LOW.

I'll refrain from complaining, though, because so many are stranded in other cities, by floods or by evacuation orders. We're praying for those people affected by Ike.

But What Does It MEAN?

I've gotten several requests to explain the blog title. What does BD stand for? Ooooh, a mystery. I should draw it out, make it into a guessing game, with prizes and a big dramatic reveal.

Frankly, I don't have the mental agility for that, nor do I want to ship any prizes to Michigan or Dallas or California, so I'll simply tell you the story behind it.

Back in our dating days, The Man started calling me BD. It has nothing to do with my name, it's not my initials or anything close. He told friends it stood for Bull Dog, which made me seem all tough.


Photo borrowed from this site


And burly, apparently. It's also the mascot of the college I went to, but I think that was coincidence. Once it started to become common usage, he finally told people what it really stood for.

Ready to become slightly nauseated?

It really stands for Baby Doll.

I know. Could we BE any cuter? I submit that we CANNOT.

So there it is. You can now perhaps see why I didn't want to draw it out. The story is a tad anticlimactic. Feel free to call me BD, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I don't mind being called a bull dog. Because the resemblance? UNCANNY.

Hurricane Preparedness

Is it wrong that I'd rather face Hurricane Ike than have my kids dismissed from school two hours early tomorrow? Probably. Not sure about why they're getting out early. The party line is the district is concerned for all the heavy traffic they are expecting on major roads in the afternoon. Considering we live almost within walking distance of our school, which is located deep within our master planned community, I'm guessing some bigwigs have big party plans in Waco this weekend.

We're far enough inland that we won't be affected by the brunt of Ike's wrath. We'll get tropical storm conditions. Maybe. But I stocked up on Luna Bars and gassed the van, so we're good to go.

If you're on the coast, stay safe. Peace out.

WWYD

What Would You Do?

1. You're on your way to bible study, at a CHURCH and all, and you stop at Starbucks to get some iced tea. After ordering and paying for the Big Gulp sized drink, you realize the cashier has only charged you for the small. What would you do? (On your way to converse with the LORD, remember)

2. You are fat and it's that time of the month hungry and decide to hit Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch, and OF COURSE you order an extra 2 biscuits to go with the fried fat and carb meal. When you sit down to embarrass yourself in front of the local high school lunch crowd, you realize you're short one biscuit, that you deserve paid for. What would you do?

3. You're at the dentist this morning, and said dentist, after 47 hours of excavating, makes an offhand comment that there's more "defect" in there than he's anticipated. After an 84 minute pause, he notices the panicked look in your eyes, and THEN says "I'm sure we'll be fine". Your choice is to punch him in his fat face or his stupid groin. What would you do?

4. You get home from your aforementioned dentist appointment, numb and shaky, and can either suit up for the gym, or hunker down on the couch and watch Project Runway and Top Design. What would you do?

__________


Oh, you want to know what I'D do?

1. Told the lady who handed me the drink, she told me not to worry about it, and I, being late for class, worried about it for the rest of the day. Decided to give an extra big tip next time.

2. Wised up that my butt did not even need ONE biscuit, let alone THREE, and decided the cost of the biscuit I didn't receive balanced out the Starbucks a little.

3. Neither, but I did turn up the volume on my headphones so he had to repeat everything to me over and over. I'm pretty sure he thought it was funny.

4. Duh.

Wordless Wednesday: She's Not Even In College Yet

Or, what happens when a mom, busy reading blogs, is too lazy to get up and deal with a daughter who conveniently gets a "tummy ache" at bedtime, and instead tells her daughter to go sit in the bathroom if she feels like she's going to throw up. Said mom finally got up when she heard snoring coming from the front bathroom. Nice.

Oh, Honey. No.

I went out earlier today to run errands, and as I pulled into a parking lot I saw a sign that advertised a business entitled "Two Hotties Haircuts". That is the name of their salon.

Oh. Oh dear. That's just... I can't even find the words.

But it got worse. As I sat in the parking lot talking to my good friend on the phone, the two Hotties (I presume it was them) came out, dressed in black tank tops and red miniskirts, carrying a sign saying they could cut my hair for FREE, and stood on the corner of a very busy intersection.

That's just one step away from an activity that you can be arrested for. I'm still flabbergasted at the whole thing, and it's not like I'm a giant prude or a raging feminist or a way-fundamentalist Christian. I just can't imagine ever pimping myself out in such a manner, all in the name of business. Maybe I'm just too old and grumpy to get the hilarity of it all.

Although... When I finally become a professional photographer someday, maybe I'll open Hot BD's Photorama.

I Hate My New Friend

I really do. I hate her. Her name is Laura, she is my neighbor and she is evil. Here's why: she makes me work out.

I KNOW! Why would I put up with such vile, vicious treatment by someone if I don't have to?

Really, it's my own fault. She and I were talking last April about having gained some weight (*cough* 15 pounds *cough*), the gym being really far (snort), and not having time during the day to exercise (she works from home, so that's reasonable for her; I'm a Stay At Home Mom, so I've got nothing BUT time). I came up with the brilliant idea to get up early in the morning and walk before having to get kids ready for school.

It all sounded good in theory. We'd start our day off on a positive note, we'd get a chance to bitch catch up, and we'd be doing something HEALTHY. Plus, I have to get up 45 minutes later anyway to get the kids off to school. What's 45 minutes?

However, I failed to take into account my lifelong ambition of being the world record holder for the number of times hitting the snooze button. I HATE to get out of bed. Even if I've gotten 11 hours of sleep, I will not get out of bed one minute before I'm required to. Why did I not remember this when I agreed to this schedule? Does the world even continue to EVOLVE before 6am? I'm not sure that it does.

To our credit, we have been consistently getting up and walking for half an hour three times a week since April. I refuse to count the 5 weeks that I was in California and not walking because, Hello? I was on VACATION. Other than that, I've only missed when I had a stupid migraine or when The Man was on a stupid business trip.

So, really, how could I say I hate my friend when all this was my idea? Get this: now she's joined my gym, where I've been so very generously donating dues for the past 6 months without using up any of their precious resources. I'm a giver.

Yeah, she's going to the gym, DRAGGING me along, and actually making me work out. It's so much easier to a) not go, or b) go and pretend to work out, while really just sitting on the bike riding with no resistence while I catch up on Murder, She Wrote, subtitled.

The thing that pushed me over the edge to pure, unadulterated hatred was yesterday, when she convinced me to take a step aerobics class. "It's only 15 minutes!", she exclaims. "I haven't done it for 10 years, so I don't know what I'm doing either!", she assures me.

Bitch.

Okay, technically, the schedule DID say it was only a 15 minute class, but after 20 minutes as I was standing, huffing and puffing and considering vomiting, I realized there must have been a typo on the schedule.

I have never felt so out of place as I did during those 20 minutes. Several other people raised there hands with me to proclaim it was our first step class. Great, I thought, I won't be the only one looking like a moron.

Ha. Hahahahahahaha.

No, I was the only one who had to keep stopping, either because I was about to vomit or pass out, or because I was completely mystified at how to follow Bouncy McBlondie the instructor. She assured us that it just took a little while to get the names for the steps down, but after hearing them many times, I still wasn't able to coordinate my stupid legs with my stupid feet with the stupid rest of the class. And OF COURSE, Laura looks like she's been doing step class since the womb. I looked like an idiot, but to quote Monica Geller, "Yeah, but I'm doing it!" and I just kept going even if I was completely out of sync with the group.

Luckily, I had a built in excuse for quitting the class 40 minutes before it was done, as I had to take Boodle to the Orthodontist, but if Laura the Evil ever gets me to do this class again, I'm pretty sure I'll be quitting at the 20 minute water break EVERY DAMN TIME.

Maybe I should just move.

Wordless Wednesday: DWP

Driving While Parenting





After a frustrating, abbreviated trip to a local festival, where much drama and tears occurred, the van lost a confrontation with a parking garage pillar while backing out of it's space. Guess what? I was NOT THE DRIVER. I wasn't even there, which is probably why the drama and tears drove The Man to this level of distraction. Poor guy.

DWP can also stand for Driving While Pissed