Be Back Later

We have Californians invading our house this week, the girls are out on winter break Monday through Wednesday (I have no idea what this break is about, considering we just had two weeks worth of winter break at the end of December, but oh whatever), AND I've just gotten a new lens for my camera, so my blog shall be sorely neglected.

I will leave you with a few shots of Loodle that I took while experimenting with my new 85mm 1.8 lens. I love it so much and might have secretly married it yesterday, but I am still figuring out that, like, it's not a zoom, yo. I have to MOVE my BODY and stuff. Weird.

Catch you on the flip side.

Where's my Village?

So I took Loodle to the park yesterday before her cheerleading class (please, let's save the rhetoric on THAT topic for another post), and because it was less than 70 degrees out, I decided to sit in the van and watch her play. The playground is about 20 feet in front of the nose of my van and I could see her the whole time, so again, save the rhetoric.

I watched her go over to one side of the playground then the other, and end up near the apparatus she likes best: a barrel-like device that you climb onto and spin it around with your feet (think log rolling). I notice her standing next to an elderly man who is basically sitting on top of the thing and he's not getting out of the way.

I look closer and see that the man has his head bowed down, his arms are kind of behind him and he's holding onto the bars on either side of him and shaking uncontrollably. I was a little concerned, and saw another mom kinda creep closer but do nothing. I immediately got out of my car, and not wanting to jump head first into anything, I walked slowly over and looked around at all the other parents, who were suspiciously far away and casting furtive glances at the man.

Loodle came and asked me what was wrong with him, and since I didn't know, I finally caught someone's eye and mouthed "What's wrong?". She just shrugged. Shrugged. I went right over to the guy and said "Sir, are you okay?" I leaned over and saw that his eyes were closed tightly and he was kinda grimacing, and he didn't even seem to hear me. I said it again louder and touched his shoulder and he jerked his head up and looked at me. I asked again and he kinda chuckled and said "yeah, yeah" and straightened up. I said "Okay, good, we were a little worried" and touched his arm. He smiled at me, took a deep breath and walked slowly off the playground.

I have no earthly idea what was going on there. All I know is I drove up and this man was having some kind of issue and at least 9 parents, both moms and dads, did nothing to approach him or see if he needed help. Was he having a seizure and his hands constricted on the bars? Was he mentally ill or up to something nefarious on the playground? Was he sobbing silently but uncontrollably? Who knew, but for that many people to stand around, WITH THEIR CHILDREN RIGHT THERE, and do nothing was appalling.

One of the moms even walked up and thanked me for checking on him, going so far as to say "wow, what if he had been having a medical problem and we didn't even do anything". I just nodded at her, but what I wanted to say was "Um, you're welcome? Glad I could ride in with my Super Powers of Deduction and Common Decency and lend my fellow citizens a hand."

Okay, maybe I'm being a wee bit judgmental, but if it takes a village, I might want to move.

Inclement Weather

Yesterday we had a freeze. The whole county was on alert. It got down to the 20's! Schools would possibly close. Plants needed to be brought in. Faucets needed to drip.

Well, let me tell you, our first inclement weather day was awesome. Not for it's freeze, because this is all we woke up to:


No, the awesome part? School was delayed for two hours. Not only did I get to sleep in, I STILL got to boot my kids out the door. Sweet!

Wordless Wednesday: Texas Weather, Now In Reverse

Well, Honestly Speaking...

I was gifted with this award recently by Rhea at Texas Word Tangle, and I am honored, especially considering that, just like the new Britney Spears song, if you say it really fast it sounds like a naughty word. Rhea also called my sense of humor dry, which I shall be glad for.

Here are the rules for this particular award, taken directly from her site:

1. Choose...blah, blah, blah...brilliant in content or design

2. Show the...blah,blah, blah...can keep the nifty icon.

3. List at least 10 honest things about yourself

I am also supposed to pass this award along to some number of other folks who I find blah blah blah brilliant as well. Here are my picks before I stop being polite, and start getting real (does Real World even use that tag line anymore?):

- Tiffany at Bride of Mukor, because she's my sister in law and I HAVE to give her something. And also I guess because she makes me laugh and she created this brilliant product that YOU NEED.

- Mama DB, because she STILL has the rage, and we recently traded some secrets that took our relationship to a new level, but that shall not be part of my honesty here today. No sir.

- Meg at Becoming a Non-Smoker, because how brilliant is it to stop smoking, and be all healthy and joggy and hikey about it? And she lives in Michigan, which has nothing to do with anything except she's really cold and could use some warmth from down south.

- Sonja at One Step Away, because she takes brilliant photos of her brilliantly beautiful kids, and I aspire to steal all her secrets and become her biggest competition, which she probably doesn't really care about considering we live thousands of miles away from each other. Which reminds me, she's cold, too. But still, I'm secretly plotting...

Now, 10 Honest Things About Me:

1. I love Spaghettios With Sliced Franks. No, I mean I LOVE them. I buy them "for my kids", but I think I'm the only one who eats them. I add pepper before I microwave them, because then it's GOURMET.

2. I'm afraid of the boogeyman. Afraid like, when I'm home alone and washing my face and have to keep my eyes closed while I wash the cleanser off, I am freaking out and hurrying because ANYONE could be coming up behind me and I CAN'T SEE THEM.

3. I didn't vote for Obama. There, I said it. I am a conservative, and didn't so much vote FOR McCain as I did AGAINST liberalism. Goodbye to all my Democrat readers.

4. I haven't changed the sheets on my bed for a really long time. A disturbingly long time. A long enough time that I CAN'T REMEMBER the last time I changed them. Which will necessitate that I go change them right. this. minute.

5. I said an extra long prayer in church on Sunday just so I could keep my eyes closed a little longer because I was falling asleep during the service. Yes I did, and I'm hoping the fact that I was praying for others makes up for it.

6. I read trashy romance novels. Frequently. Now, I DON'T read the ones with naked people on the covers, but that is a fine line that allows me to indulge in my weakness.

7. I have a favorite child. I've always had a favorite, and it's not always the same one. I won't tell you who it is right now, because the other one'll read this someday and scream I KNEW IT!!!

8. I swear. A lot. In my head, under my breath with my kids in the room, loudly in the van when I drive by myself. I've tried to change, and even came up with alternatives, like "criminy", "for crying out loud", "jiminy christmas", and even "doggonit". All to no avail, because how can that possibly satisfy as much as a good f-bomb? Look, my grandmother once used it, and said sometimes that's just the only word that fits, and she was a wise, wise woman.

9. Sometimes I hate being tall. I talk a good game, how great it is to be tall, to never have been picked on in school, to be able to reach things, to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with The Man who is 6'2", to have passed such a gift on to my amazon children and reinforce to them how wonderful their height is. But secretly I would love to be more petite, to be able to easily find pants that fit, to be carried away romantically (seriously, no I can't be), to sit in the theater or at church without being all scrunched up, to hug people without conking them in the chin with my shoulder, all the damn time.

10. I want to be a portrait photographer. And I'm terrified of putting myself out there and declaring that I am actually doing this. But then The Man sees a picture I took and says "damn, you're a good photographer", and I think, maybe I can do this after all.

Wordless Wednesday: What, um... What?

I often find little vignettes such as these around the house, and because I have no earthly idea what is happening here, I'm pretty sure I missed a memo, and possibly an exorcism.

Hands Off, He's Mine

Survived Sickfest 2009 with flying colors, Friday being the only day of full on sickitude, with the rest of the weekend spent getting winded from activities like TAKING A SHOWER.

This morning, The Man shaved, which is actually consequential around here, so I grabbed my camera for a quick photo shoot on the front porch. The shadow strewn pic I had on my sidebar was bothering me.

The resulting photos? Hubba hubba.

Events of the Last 24 Hours

3:45pm - Have gigantic fight, again, with Boodle about doing homework

4:00pm - Take away Hip Hop class from Boodle because she won't do homework

4:10pm - eke out the last 6 problems on Boodle's homework with her, and then cave like a loser mom and let her go to Hip Hop class

5:45pm - make pasta dinner

6:45pm - eat lovely dinner with my hooligans, and then get ready to go to Bunco night

7:00pm - The Man gets home, and I notice my throat's a little sore

10:30pm - come home from Bunco, collapse on my beloved green chair, and admit that I am indeed sick, and proceed to go from slightly sore throat to pneumonia in 4.7 seconds

5:00am (I think) - The Man finally gives up on sleep because good LORD the COUGHING wakes up, and I ask him to get the kids ready for school, because, you know, I'm SICK

9:00am - wake up, trudge to my beloved green chair, and spend all morning crying over episodes of ER, CSI (!) and Private Practice, and finally come to the realization that I've also come down with a raging case of PMS

1:30pm - I finally break down and call my good friend Laura and ask her to pick up my kids, and when she offers to take them to her house, I agree to sign over my 401k to her

3:00pm - my doorbell unexpectedly rings, and I open it up to vomit. I myself did not vomit, please don't misunderstand. Boodle was leaned over on the porch puking her guts out, with my friend's au pair standing behind her holding all Boodle's stuff, looking a little aghast

3:01pm - I'm leaving messages on The Man's office phone, cell phone, and skywriting outside his window, detailing the new drama, giving him the heads up that he might have to leave work a tad early today. Maybe.

3:15pm - after a warm shower, during which another bout of, well, you know, Boodle is ensconced on the couch with a big bowl, a warm blankie, and Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back on the DVD player

3:30pm - I start to blog, and then my tummy starts to feel funny. Lovely

Wordless Wednesday: Nerd Edition

And don't get me wrong, LONG LIVE THE NERD.

Have YOU heard of This Word?

So, I was talking to The Man earlier about how his sister in law loves to write a "tome" on Google chat. So many words in fact that I have to scroll back up to read it, and how this is bad Google chat etiquette. Sorry Tiff, our mocking was meant in a loving manner.

When I said the word "tome" out loud, it gave me pause, because I don't use it much, and it strikes me as a word that maybe not EVERYBODY would know. BUT, that's not the word my post title refers to. It reminded me of my bible study class at church on Sunday, where I described The Man's past behavior at social functions as resembling that of a "curmudgeon".

I got many a blank stare. Out of about 12 women, only 3 others had heard of that word. I was floored. I thought EVERYBODY knew that word. C'mon, it's such an awesome word and brings to mind such lovable characters as Mark Twain or Andy Rooney. How do you not know this??? So now I'm asking you.

Have YOU heard of the word curmudgeon, or is only because I lived with one who has since reformed that I'm so acquainted with it?

Please Don't Kill Harold

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(What's up with that code at the end? I think I just signed up for Time Life Books.)

That Sir Mixalot Was Really On To Something

I knew it. There HAD to be a reason for it. Validation. I has it.

And now I've been vindicated.

And I contemplated adding the youtube video for Baby Got Back, but deemed it inappropriate. My mother-in-law reads this blog, and I just don't think I can subject her to that or even the cartoon hippo version. Not to mention the fact that I can be found through my bible study group, and this would, of course, be the first time the pastor's wife clicked through to see what that crazy BD is up to.

Wordless Wednesday: So Much Going On In That Head Of Hers

Fashion Tuesday

Well, not totally about fashion today, but I do need to ask, why NOT wear a skirt and a kicky hair bow when you're going to spend time digging around in the mud?





Side note: It's freaking WINTER!!!

I love it that I'm not raising delicate flowers, too precious to dare to get a grain of sand on them. Loodle loves nothing better than to plop fully clothed into the creek and start digging.

And do you remember making these mud drip mountains as a kid? It's actually harder than I remembered, but Loodle got a good one going. I used to love to play at the beach and at the lake, digging in the dirt, making castles, tunnels and moats. So glad this part of my DNA got passed along.

Let's Play A Game, Shall We?

Recently, I had a conversation with a friend about the worst nightmares we'd had. Hers was pretty awesome. Here are mine:

I've had two nightmares concerning the death of my oldest, Boodle. I don't know why I dream of her dying, and they are horrible, heart-wrenching dreams, whose images I cannot erase from my memory.

The first one occurred a little while after we went camping at property The Man's family owns next to a lake. It's a good 2 hour drive from the campground to the nearest town and there was no cell coverage while we were there. I dreamed that Boodle had been bitten on the face by a snake, and since we were too far away to get help, I had to sit with her while she died. I vividly remember telling her that she was my angel, and I would love her always.

I know. At least that one I can explain, since I was obviously living out one of the fears I'd had up there.

The next one was truly bizarre, and I remember no circumstances around this one that would have led me to dream this one up. I dreamed that Boodle had accidentally killed someone and was going to the gas chamber for it. I had to explain to her what was going to happen, and tell her that it was going to be okay and she would be in heaven and we'd see her there someday, and then walk her to the door.

I know. What in the name of psychoses is wrong with my brain? Both dreams woke me up in complete and utter despair and I cried for HOURS afterward. And now you get be a part of my crazy.

So tell me yours. Go ahead, they can't be much worse than that.

This Is Why I Should Twitter **Update**

My kids are up. See the time? My blogger account is still set to PST. It's actually after 11pm on a Saturday night. My kids should be asleep and I should be left in peace with Jason Bourne.

Last night's sleepover apparently was more of a party over with a little sleep on the side. They didn't go to bed until 1:30am. A.M. Then, today I decided to take a small nap while The Man and Boodle went to the park, and Loodle up and fell asleep, too. That cemented her late night tonight.

I finally realized why my OTHER daughter is still awake. We upped her dose on her medicine today, and I completely forgot about that first week we tried her on this prescription where she didn't eat and couldn't sleep. It only lasts for a while, but this should be wild fun considering she is supposed to start school in less than 36 hours.

Is it summer yet???

***UPDATE: Both kids now asleep. Told one to lump it, and after being told by the other that her room was "too small" to sleep in, pointed her in the direction of my bed and heard her snoring 10 minutes later. Through the closed door and over my heavy breathing Jason Bourne's intense gaze and masculine energy. To Loodle's future husband: please invest now in earplugs.

Random Happenings

So remember when I said I had my toes painted shiny blue, and who cares because it's winter and no one will see them? Well, two 80 degree days later, and I'm now now one step away from going goth. It's WINTER, Texas! Please act accordingly. I'm currently in my beloved green chair in a tank top and shorts, for crying out loud. (Sorry, Meg)

Yesterday, I took the girls back to the turtle park, as I've come to call it. It was so lovely to sit next to the river, watch the turtles, take pics of the girls and just relax and listen to the breeze rustle the branches. It's days like that when I REALLY appreciate Texas. It definitely broke through the "depression" that sets in after I visit California. I put depression in quotation marks because really, how sad am I to get depressed to come back to all that I'm fortunate enough to have? Oh, I can't have my cake and eat it too. Waaaaahhh.
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We got a call yesterday inviting Loodle, the 6-year-old, to a slumber party. She has more of a social network than The Man and I combined. We bundled her off to her friend's house, and I left The Man and Boodle ensconced on the couch watching Star Wars. She's obsessed with all things Star Wars and has been BEGGING to watch Star Wars II and III (that's V and VI to us old purists), but I have to draw the line at people being beheaded, Anniken wiping out an entire tribe after they killed his mother, Queen Amidala dying after childbirth and Anniken getting burned in lava before turning fully into Darth Vader. Standards, people.
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The Man is off tonight to play bridge. That's right, he's 40 years old and playing bridge and I'm thirty-mmfphmn years old and planning to sit on the couch with popcorn and The Bourne Trilogy. We're living the dream.
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I have a sickness. It's my very own brand of compulsion, whereby if I read a book and they make it into a movie, I HAVE to see the movie. NO MATTER WHAT. Which is what led my friends to look at me disbelievingly when I told them I'd gone to see Mandy Moore in A Walk To Remember. Hey, it's a good movie, alright, and Shane West makes up for a wealth of bad acting.

So, while in California, my good friend MamaDB loaned me Twilight. Well, actually she loaned it to Tiffany and I stole it but whatever, I read about half of it and decided I didn't need to go any further. I got to the part where they decide they really like each other after all and was overwhelmed with meh. Then, I got back here, and last night had the opportunity to go out by myself, and was deciding between Twilight and Benjamin Buttons. I'm sure you know which I picked because, hello, sickness? The movie was okay, not awesome, but it did make me want to go back and finish the book, which is saying something.

And Edward or Robert or whoever? Not so much with the beautiful. I guess he's just not my type, because the other middle aged ladies sitting next to me were audibly swooning when he first appeared. And to the girl behind me snapping her chewing gum? Next time I have to turn around and verbally tell you to stop it, I'm gonna kick your arse. People, when I turn around twice to glare, and then say "Please stop" on the third try, please take me seriously or you'll be sorry.

So Here's How It Went

So, BD, what did you do on your Christmas vacation?

Why, thank you Mrs. Webernet for asking. Here's what I did:

I got to California early Sunday morning and that evening went to a dinner/gift exchange with these crazy ladies:
We've been friends for years, since college days, and have gone through graduations, marriages, book clubs, relocations, kids, loss, spa days and more. These are 7 of the reasons I miss California so.

Monday saw us traveling to our hometown to visit the moms, grandpas and friends. Just as we left, amidst a fog of my just-acquired cold, I got some pics in my SIL's front yard:

My kids and their cousins





Our friend Shana and her two girls





On Tuesday, the kids decorated gingerbread houses with their Grandma, and then decided they wanted to sample the gingerbread. A good rule of thumb to follow: if you require a hammer and screwdriver to dislodge a bite, you may want to skip sampling the cookie this once.

I have some really bad pictures of Christmas Eve which I won't embarrass anyone with, and absolutely NO photos from Christmas Day. It's better to just BE in the moment, right? Right? That is absolutely what I will continue to tell myself.

On Friday, we took some pics with my mom,



and her really thrilled cat, who was sporting one of the hats my good friend Shelly knit for the kids,

and then went back down to L.A. We spent Saturday with The Man's side of the family in Simi Valley playing games, eating way too much and exchanging Secret Pal gifts.

Sunday saw myself, my sister-in-law Tiffany, and MamaDB lounging around the spa like the gluttons that we are. I had a glorious 80 minute pedicure and have some shiny blue toenails to show for it. Hey, it's winter in Texas. Who's gonna see?

Monday, we had everyone hang out at Tiffany's house so the kids could play,





and the bigger kids could play Rock Band 2.

Then I cried my way to the airport Monday night for an uneventful flight back to Texas, during which my seatmate Loodle slept from takeoff to landing, sleeping the sleep of the righteous.

I had a marvelous time in California, and if all these people would just move out here to Texas already, my life would be a lot smoother.

A Word From My Mom's Cat

Happy Freakin' New Year