Jenga Town

Let me start off by saying that I think my son is brilliant.



I mean, not many kids would build an entire town out of Jenga blocks.

I tried to explain to him how the game was really played. We had the tower built and everything. We started taking turns pulling out the pieces.

But then...

"Mommy. I don't like this game. Can we build a town?" Tommy asked hopefully.

His attention span is basically non-existant. It's why I don't play a lot of games with Tommy. Because it'll start off fun and then ten minutes later Tommy is off making his own rules. When we attempted to play Monopoly junior he was suddenly driving off down the stairs with his car piece.

"This game is more fun!" he shouted at me as he made "vroom vroom" noises.

When he grew bored with Jenga I wasn't surprised.

I told him he could build his town and was it okay if I finished up the laundry then?

But Tommy was already at work taking apart the tower and putting together little buildings.

By the time I was finished with the laundry he called me back in.

"Shut your eyes!" he instructed me, pulling on my arm.

I obeyed and hoped he wouldn't lead me into the wall as he did the last time he had me close my eyes.

("That was an accident!" Tommy said as my face smashed into the wall.)

When he told me to open my eyes I was met with Jenga Town.

Very cool.

Now, even though I think he's incredibly smart, there are times when my jaw drops open at the things he says.

For instance, he walked into the laundry room the other day and announced with a wrinkle of his nose:

"It smells like asshole in here."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, in his defense, it didn't smell that great.

We also keep the catbox in there. And it was Tom's day to change it.

We alternate the disgusting job. Because the last time we had a cat, I was stuck doing the catbox and when we decided to get Max, I explained to Tom that we would take turns changing the catbox.

I still have to remind him to do it. And when I do he'll sometimes huff and puff about it.

I sometimes wonder if he's losing the ability to smell. Because sometimes it reeks up to high heaven in there and I'm wondering how he doesn't smell it? I know he walks in there to walk out to the garage. Does he hold his breath?

Or seriously, is he losing his ability to smell?

I doubt it.

Because the second Natalie craps in her diaper, he's all, "The baby pooped!"

Because he doesn't "do" poop diapers.

"I'll gag," he explains to me.

"Tom," I'll say. "You'll go out and risk your life for your country. But you're afraid of a little poop?"

Tom will nod sharply. "Yes. I'll GAG," he'll repeat dramatically and then pull his shirt collar up over his nose until I change Natalie's diaper.

Anyhow, I had to admonish Tommy on using the word asshole. Honestly, where does he come up with these things?

As I was pondering this, I heard Tom's voice from the living room. He was playing MarioParty and he claims that the computer players totally cheat.

"You ASSHOLE!" Tom bellowed.

Oh.

Right.

Remind me to have a talk with him.

Headed to Wales

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We left Dublin early on the 18th headed for Wales. Our first three and a half hours were spent on a ferry crossing the Irish Sea. It was a pleasant journey. We sat in the very back and enjoyed each others company. A few napped and some of us listened to our IPODS and played with our DS Lites. I was one of those. When we arrived in Wales we were met by our new coach driver. I was missing Greg already. The new guy was a little cheeky and made a lot of women bashing statements. Did he not realize he was outnumbered? The Welsh countryside was gorgeous. Our first stop was at the town with the longest name in the world. We stopped there for a bathroom break and to get our passports stamped. BTW...the town with the longest name is: LLnfairpwilgwyngyllgogerychwyrndribwukkiantysukuigogogoch. What a mouthful. After this stop our next stop was at Conwy. We ate lunch, did banking business, and toured the castle. It was a precious town. A lot of internationals came here to summer by the shore. The harbor was laden with boats. It was a picture perfect town and we enjoyed the time in Conwy. AFter this stop we traveled on to Snowdonia Glacier Park. Snowdonia was awesome. The tallest mountain - Snowdan still had snow in the upper peaks. It was so beautiful here. I would love to live in this area of the UK and just write. It was the perfect get away for the artsy community. A photographers dream.

Dublin on March 17th, 2009

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What a day! What a ride! I love Dublin. If I ever get a chance to go back I plan to...without a tour. On my own. I want to do what I want to do and go where I want to go. Dublin....sigh....

On Losing Five Pounds

I’ve decided that I’m going to lose five pounds.

Or try to, at least.

The thing is I love food. And I’m sort of allergic to working out. I always intend to go to the gym. I even bought a pink gym bag (for 75% off at Target!). I went to the gym with my new gym bag slung over my shoulder a few weeks ago. I walked in and pretended I knew exactly what I was doing. Never mind that I somehow walked right past the Ellipticals and found myself in the weight room which was filled with grunting and sweaty men.

Ew!

I quickly turned on my heel and tried to make it look like I had meant to do that all along. Of course I did. See, when I work out I have to, erm, stare at some eye candy. Not that I saw any eye candy in the weight room. I just saw a dark haired guy who looked as though he were constipated or something as he lifted the barbell. His face was bright red and he was making the same noises that I made when I gave birth to my children. (Only he didn’t accompany his groans with curse words.)

Anyhow, I did work out on the Elliptical that day. I found a free one in the back and climbed on—and then realized my bag was still draped over my shoulder.

Oops.

So I had to get back down, drop my bag and then get back up.

But then I realized I forgot my water.

It was obvious that I had no idea what I was doing.

After my water was placed in the holder I stared at the array of buttons on the Elliptical. Did I want a quick start? Did I want a hill workout? HILLS? Hills meant more work, right? Of course I didn’t want a HILL workout.

There was also a button labeled cardio and another that said something about fat burn. Didn’t I burn fat with cardio? Or was fat burn really intense?

“I’m confused!” I said out loud. I think I startled the woman beside me. She sort of flicked her eyes over at me and wrinkled her forehead. “Sorry,” I mouthed and then tried to focus on figuring out the buttons.

But it wasn’t easy.

Because there was another area on the machine that said HRZ.

HRZ?

What was that?

Human Response Zoo?

That doesn’t make sense.

Humorous Running Zap?

“You okay?” the woman beside me asked. I guess she was finished with her workout because she was off her Elliptical. She didn’t even look winded. She just calmly took a sip of her water as though she did this every day. Maybe she did. I should probably work out everyday. But life is too short to spend it sweating.

“What is HRZ?” I wondered, pointing to the area.

The woman glanced over to where I was gesturing. “Oh. Heart rate zone. The machine follows your heart rate. If it gets too high it’ll warn you. So you don’t die or something.” She gave a laugh as though she could never fathom something like that happening.

But she doesn’t know me.

She doesn’t know how much my body hates exercise. And who knows, my heart could be bitchy one day and be all, “That’s it. I don’t feel like working out. So I’m going to stop pumping. Kthxbai!”

I ended up just going with the Cardio setting. For twenty minutes. I mean, eventually I should work up to a half hour. Or maybe even an hour. But I knew I had to start off small.

And it’s a good thing I did because I felt like I was dying four minutes in. My legs were burning, my breath was coming out in long gasps and sweat was beginning to drip down my forehead. Gross.

I always wonder how women can look so composed when they work out. Do they take some sort of No Sweat medicine that I’m not aware of? And why aren’t their faces as red as a cherry?

There was a woman on an Elliptical who was diagonal from me and she had an iPod Touch. I want an iPod Touch. She was apparently watching a program on it. I figured out it was Lost when I saw Jack strutting around in his Dharma Initiative uniform.

Jack! Lost! I love that show.

So I started to focus on that and I was able to block out the burning sensations.

Sort of.

I still felt them of course. But it helped when I was distracted.

I had even seen the episode before but I didn’t care.

But then the woman turned it off because she was finished with her workout.

What?

I nearly went, “HEY!”

But I swallowed it back just in time.

I’m gonna die....I’m gonna die.... I kept chanting to myself. I almost willed my heart to start going at an unhealthy rate so I had an excuse to get off.

“Oh. Yes. I had to stop early because of my poor heart,” I’d explain to Tom.

But my heart was fine.

When I had two minutes left I swore that the Time Gods were totally out to get me. Surely they had to be slowing time down?

I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!

But then....the machine beeped, telling me I was done.

My legs felt like jelly so I nearly fell to the ground. I didn’t see any other women struggle to get off. They just easily did it and then strolled out of the gym.

Me? I sort of wobbled out of the gym. I dragged my pink bag behind me. When I got home I shuffled inside and collapsed on the couch.

“Gym....evil...” I managed to spit out.

Because it is.

I’m also trying to watch what I eat. See, I’m sort of addicted to Little Debbie snacks. The Swiss Rolls are my favorites. But they aren’t healthy. So instead of buying a new box like I usually do whenever I’m at the grocery store, I got some apples.

I sort of went through Swiss Roll withdrawals. Tom, who also loves Swiss Rolls, actually went out and bought another box.

“You forgot to pick up more of these,” he said, shaking the box in my direction.

Swiss Rolls! I’ve missed you!

Before I knew what was happening I was ripping the box open.

But then I remembered that I was trying to lose weight. So back in the box they went and I pulled out an apple.

I figured I could pretend that the apple was as good as the Swiss Roll. But my imagination isn’t that powerful.

And then Tom went and ate a Swiss Roll in front of me.

“You ass!” I screeched at him. I was tempted to hurl the apple at his thick head.

I’m at the point where if I have to look at one more flipping apple that I may scream.

When we ordered pizza the other day I got it with the wheat crust because I know it’s better than the regular one.

But it tasted like cardboard with tomato sauce.

Even Tommy went, “What’s wrong with this pizza? Why is it brown looking?”

I just want regular food!

I want my Swiss Rolls!

I want cheesecake!

I was at Wal-Mart and I was practically salivating at a box of Sara Lee strawberry cheesecake. My fingers reached out to grab it but then Tom said,

“Aren’t you trying to lose weight?”

“No. I’m not! I’m done with that! To hell with losing weight!” I shrieked and went to get the box.

Mmmmm, Sara Lee cheesecake. I actually had the box in my hands. I stared at the beautiful picture on the front and imagined myself eating it….

But then I pictured myself in a swimsuit. And I pictured people pointing and laughing. So I put it back. Reluctantly.

This is hard. I wish Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser could come and help me out.

She’d probably faint over the stuff in my cupboards.

“What are these?” she’d yell, waving a box of Little Debbie brownies around. “And these?” she’d continue, holding up some Oatmeal Cream Pies.

“Hey!” I’d retort. “It’s oatmeal. So that makes it healthy.”

Then she’d make me drop and give her twenty and remind me that she won’t tolerate any bullshit.

She’d end up scaring me and making me cry.

So never mind on the Jillian thing.

Dublin on St. Paddy's Day

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We spent St. Patrick's Day in Dublin. It was an unreal experience. I have never seen so many people in one place at one time. You could barely move for the crowds of people. The Today Show was in Dublin on the 17th as well. I stopped and posed for one of their cameras....don't know if I made the cut. We toured the city early that morning with our local guide, Patrick O'Reilly. He was a retired police officer and what a character. He had the coolest caterpillar eyebrows. I loved him. After our tour we went to find a place to watch the parade. It was amazing trying to wiggle our ways into the group so we could see. After the parade we ate lunch at TOGO's. It was nothing extraordinary...just a sandwich. We went back to Molly Malone to meet the group to go see the Book of Kells at Trinity College. After touring Trinity we headed for the Hard Rock Cafe at Temple Bar. I need a pin from Dublin. Hard Rock was the happening place...every nut in the city was in the restaurant....dancing....and singing....and being loud and obnoxious. We shopped some more then headed back to Molly Malone to meet up with the group for supper. Supper tonight was at the Portabello. We had a delicious roast with potatoes meal and a strange apple pie thing with a mango drizzle. I love apple pie....but that one was hard for me to eat. Back to the IMI to pack up and get ready to leave for Wales in the morning. I love Dublin. I love Ireland and will miss it when we leave it in the morning.

44 Things About Me

My friend Laura tagged me on facebook with this little lovely....and since I was drawing a blank today about what to write...I thought what the hay...here is something good....

TYPE IN ALL CAPS SO YOU CAN BE AN OBNOXIOUS ARSE, TOO!

1. Do you like blue cheese? NOPE

2. Have you ever smoked? YEP, BUT I AM PROUD TO SAY I NO LONGER DO SO!

3. Do you own a gun? NO.

4. What flavor of Kool Aid was your favorite? LEMONADE

5. What do you think of hot dogs? I ACTUALLY DO LIKE THEM. I FIND THEM HIGHLY UNDERAPPRECIATED AS A VALID FORM OF CUISINE. I LIKE BURNED UP GRILLED ONES; BALL-FIELD ONES OFF THE WARMER; LAZY-SUPPER BOILED ONES--THEY'RE ALL GOOD.

7. Favorite Christmas movie? MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET - THE ORIGINAL ONE

8. Favorite thing to drink in the morning? DIET COKE

9. Can you do push ups? NOT IN THIS LIFETIME.

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? MY WEDDING RINGS AND MY MOM'S RUBY RING.

11. Favorite hobby? WRITING AND PHOTOGRAPHY

12. Do you have A.D.D.? YES...BUT WAS UNDIAGNOSED AS A CHILD.

13. What's one trait you hate about yourself? MY WEIGHT

14. Middle Name: LEIGH

15. Name 2 thoughts at this exact moment? WHY AM I SO COLD? WHAT AM I FIXING FOR SUPPER?

16. Name 4 drinks you regulary drink? TEA, COFFEE, WATER, DIET COKE

17. Current Worry? FINANCES

18. Current hate right now? I DON'T HATE

19. Favorite place to be? SOAKING UP SUN OUTSIDE OR ASLEEP UNDER A FLEECE BLANKET

20. How did you bring in the New Year? WITH FRANK AT THE WILLIAM'S HOUSE IN WAVERLY.

21. Where would you like to go? SCOTLAND, MAKINAW ISLAND, VERMONT, AND ALASKA.

22. Name three people who might complete this? 3 VERY BORED PEOPLE!

23. Do you own slippers? YES.

24. What shirt are you wearing? A GREEN SWEATER

25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? NO! THAT'S TOO MUCH LIKE THE INSIDE OF A COFFIN.

26. Can you whistle? NO

27. Favorite color? BLUES

28. Would you be a pirate? YES

29. What songs do you sing in the am? CONTEMPORARY CHRISTIAN AND STILL MAGNOLIAS STUFF

30. Favorite girls name: KATHRYN AND AMY

31. Favorite boys name: DREW

32. What is in your pocket right now? NOTHING

33. Last thing that made you laugh? A MOVIE

34. What vehicle do you drive? AN HHR

35. Worst injury you have had? DISLOCATED KNEE

36. Do you love where you live? IT IS OK.

37. How many tvs do you have in your house? 3

38. Who is your loudest friend? AMANDA AND JO

39. Do you have any pets? YEP

40. Does someone have a crush on you? FRANKO

41. Your favorite book(s)? TOO MANY TO LIST....SORRY.

42. Do you collect anything? I USED TO COLLECT LIGHTHOUSES.

43. Favorite Sports Team: BRHS WILDCATS - WHATEVER IS IN SEASON AT THE TIME.

44. What song do you want played at your funeral? KANSAS - DUST IN THE WIND.

Natalie! She's Just Like Us!

So how do you like my new blog look?

It got a much needed makeover.

Seriously, before it was green and...well...green.

I admit it, I'm HTML stupid. I mean, it took me about twenty minutes to figure out how to get the Feedburner thing to work. I think I even cried about it.

I always knew I wanted a pretty blog. I'd stop by other blogs and give a sigh and long to have a blog that wasn't so danged green. Not that there is anything wrong with the color green. I mean, the color green saves you from being pinched on St. Patrick's Day for goodness sakes!

But I just wanted more.

And so I stumbled across the Ruby and Roja design blog and I instantly fell in love with their work. I quickly signed up to get a blog makeover and a few weeks later a lovely woman named Sarah e-mailed me.

She's the one did my blog. And she's so incredibly patient! I admit, I would say things like, "Hrm. Not sure about the dots, can you show me other backgrounds?"

And she would do it without telling me to go suck on an egg, that the dot background is what I'm going to get and I'd better like it.

So I highly recommend Ruby and Roja! Their link is here. If you ever want your blog to look pretty, go to them! You won't be sorry.

Nothing much is going on so I think I'll do a Natalie! She's Just Like Us! entry.

It basically makes fun of how the magazine US Weekly will show celebrities doing things like picking up their laundry or *gasp* eating hamburgers. And then a caption will read: "John Mayer! He's just like Us! He picks up his laundry!"

Are we supposed to be impressed that Jennifer Aniston is eating a popcicle? (Jennifer Aniston! She's just like Us! She eats popcicles!")

Or that Brad Pitt is sipping on some Coke? (Brad Pitt! He's Just Like Us! He drinks Coke!)

So here is Natalie's version:



Natalie! She's just like Us! She enjoys playing a rousing game of peek-a-boo.



Natalie! She's just like Us! She loves driving around in pretty pink cars. (While not holding onto the steering wheel! Natalie, we don't text while driving.)



Natalie! She's just like Us! She bounces on a trampoline and goes "Weeeeee!" (And "AHHHHH!" when she's too close to the edge.)



Natalie! She's just like Us! She puts Sesame Street stickers on herself. (And the furniture!)



Natalie! She's just like Us! She loves to throw rocks. (She'd make a horrible celebrity. If the Paparazzi got too close she'd hurl a few stones at them. The Paparazzi would dub her "The Stone Thrower.")



Natalie! She's just like Us! She eats off plates with creepy characters on them. (And sticks her tongue out at the camera.)



Natalie! She's just like Us! She carries around a creepy green toy. (Hey, I DO end up carrying one around when I'm hiding it after all. I'll tell her that Brobee had to go to BrobeeLand for a few days. Sometimes I need a break from the singing.)

ASP - Tazwell

Have you ever heard of Appalachian Service Project? Well, neither had I until about 8 years ago. One of my daughters best friends, Mary Rachel, went on an ASP trip and when she returned she was on fire. The next year, Kat and I went. I will never be the same again. You have to understand me....I do not like being dirty. I like clean....but I then I found myself...roofing a house in the hot West Virginia summer. My head team leader, Willie, was an experienced builder....and a man. He had roofed before. I did not do heights. What a pair we made. I grew very close to my team every day. We would leave for the job early in the morning....and listen to James Taylor as we drove through the quiet mountainside. What a glorious time. Our family was the Wiedenhofts. We adored them. It was Grandmother Wiedenhofts birthday while we were there and Rod baked her a cake. She was delighted. I don't think anyone had ever done something like that for her. Our last day in Tazwell....we went for an afternoon ride through a place called God's Thumbprint. It was breathtaking. So, besides getting dirty...what exactly is ASP? Well it is a project that occurs in the Appalachian mountains of Virginia, West Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky where groups of people come and do emergency home repair on houses. The groups that come to work actually pay for the materials, bring their own tools, provide litte goodies for the host families, and learn that God can use everyone anywhere. I know I learned how much he could use me. I left Tazwell...a new person. I knew that I was a survivor....and that God could do great things through me. If you ever get a chance to go on an ASP trip I promise you....you will not be sorry. It will be the greatest thing you will ever do. BTW....I still don't like getting dirty...I have a heck of a collection of power tools, and can actually build a deck, roof a house, and work under a house....without screaming over cobwebs.

FYI - Just thought you might like to know that this year marks the 40th anniversary of Appalachia Service Project (ASP)!

It all began with one man's simple vision: to match high school youth groups with families in need so their homes could be made warmer, safer and drier. In this first issue of The Front Porch for 2009, you'll read how that man -- Rev. Glenn "Tex" Evans -- founded ASP and helped its roots grow deep during the first decade from 1969 to 1979. The theme for this momentous anniversary year is Putting Faith Forward -- because even now, as we look back and rejoice at the amazing work accomplished by Tex and ASP over four decades of sweat and toil -- and love and compassion, we realize there is still much to do! The communities we serve here in Central Appalachia have poverty rates that are three times the national average ... and today we can only afford to help ONE out of every 10 families that apply to us for home repair assistance. Read more about how ASP is making a difference and how you can help!

Dublin via Blarney

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We are headed to Dublin today via Blarney Castle. I can't wait to see the castle and shop at the Woolen Mills. The countryside between here and there is so lovely and green....everything you would expect Ireland to be. We will get into Dublin tonight and be there for the St. Patrick's Day celebrations tomorrow. I cannot wait to share the Dublin views with you tomorrow. Hope you enjoy Blarney....and remember.....if you kiss the Blarney Stone....you gain the gift of gab.

The Computer Chair

I was thrilled.

The other day I found this at Wal-Mart. Marked down from sixty-something to thirty.



We need a new computer chair. We have a cat named Max who seems to think that our current one is his own personal scratching post.

So when I came upon the chair I clapped my hands and scooped up the box.

Of course I nearly fell over because the box was heavier than I thought it would be. I toppled to the right. Then to the left. And then I nearly careened straight into the display of chairs before finally regaining my balance.

Natalie was amused. She clapped her hands and squealed, "AGAIN!"

Apparently she was confused. She thought I was teetering back and forth for her amusement.

Then I had to figure out how to get the box to stay in the cart. It was too big to go inside. It wouldn't fit underneath. So I sort of had to balance it on top and when I moved, I had to place one hand on the box to make sure it didn't clatter to the ground.

This meant that I had to move slowly. I sort of creeped along the store.

I tried to look on the bright side. At least I was getting some exercise. The added weight made the cart tougher to push so I was getting an arm workout.

I was so busy being thrilled with the thought that my arm would be all defined like Demi Moore's that I didn't catch that this lady in one of those motorized carts was headed straight for my cart. We were about five feet away from one another and it was obvious that this lady wasn't planning on moving.

"You know," I wanted to point out. "To move, all you have to do is shift the handle bar to the RIGHT."

I mean, honestly. She didn't even look like she belonged in one of those motorized carts.

Then I noticed that the lady was STARING ME DOWN. As though she were just daring me to run her over.

I ended up moving out of the way just in time. The air from the lady in the cart whooshed past me as she buzzed by.

Wal-Mart shoppers scare me. I suppose I could have held my ground and refused to move but I didn't want to be sued. That lady looked like the type who would sue. In fact, I'm wondering if she was the one who sued McDonalds when she discovered that the coffee she bought was *gasp* hot. Maybe she's the reason why coffee cups now have WARNING:HOT stamped on the top.

When I got home I lugged the box inside and I admit, I was excited on putting the chair together.

Okay, so the truth is, I'm awful at building things. I usually end up either A) curled up in a ball crying or B) throwing things across the room in frustration or C) all of the above.

I really want to be able to build things on my own. I hate having to rely on Tom all the time. So this time I was determined to set the chair up on my own and have it waiting and built by the time Tom came home from work. Then I could be all,

"Oh this old thing? I just put it together. Myself. It was nothing," with a casual wave of my arm.

After I put Natalie down for her nap I got to work. I marched over to the box and went to rip it open.

And nothing happened.

I tugged and I pulled and the box would NOT come apart.

It was like the entire thing had been slathered with super glue or something.

So I did what any other adult in my situation would do:



I stuck a knife in the box.

That helped.

Of course, the box looked like a bear had attacked it when I was through with it. It was basically ripped to shreads.

Then I dumped all the pieces out.

I felt so proud. I was all, "Lalala, look at me. BUILDING something." I cleared my throat in what sounded like an important manner and picked up the instructions.



I admit, I was a little worried that there were so many pieces. In my mind the chair was basically put together. I assumed all I'd have to do was snap on the wheels. One piece resembled a telescope and I briefly considered picking it up and looking through it and shouting, "Ahoy!"

But then I was like, "Amber. You're a Serious Builder now. Builders don't do things like that."



The instructions explained that I'd put the wheels in first.

Easy enough.

Right?

But no. The wheels weren't going in. I'd push and push and nothing happened.

I got two of them in and the others weren't budging.



So I used the telescope piece and started banging the wheels in.



Then I was told to stick the bottom of the chair in this pole-like object and it wouldn't work.

I tried! I really did. But it WOULDN'T WORK.

So I sort of slammed the pieces together and that got it to stay up.



I thought I had the bottom of the chair put together. But it wasn't sturdy at all. I went to take a seat and the entire thing fell apart. I crumpled to the floor with chair pieces all around me.

"WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?" I shrieked. I scooped up the insructions and jabbed a finger at the words. "I FOLLOWED YOU! I DID WHAT YOU ASKED. WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?"

I took the telescope piece and brought it to my eye.

"Ahoy," I croacked.

I was hoping this would cheer me up.

It didn't.

I was still frustrated by the fact that I couldn't put together a STUPID chair.

That I MAY have dubbed Bertha the Bitch.

In my defense, the chair was certainly acting like one.



I'd like to say that I put it together.

But I did not.

After attempting to put it together one more time, the chair only fell apart in my hands.

So I ended up throwing the telescope piece across the room and dramatically shoving all the pieces in the corner.

When Tom came home from work he gestured to all the parts.

"What's that?" he wondered.

"Bertha the Bitch," I fumed.

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

So I spilled out the story on how I bought a chair and how I wanted to put it together myself because I didn't always want to be the damsel in distress.

"But the instructions basically lied to me and nothing was making sense and the chair kept falling apart!" I wailed. I even used wild arm movements for effect.

Tom just nodded his head. He's used to this.

He just calmly took the instructions and got to work.

He had the chair put together in ten minutes.

"But you did a good job," Tom lied.

I mean, I DID help him screw in the arm rests. While he held them up I did the screwing. Haha. Screwing.

And then I ended up putting the telescope piece in.

Tom went, "Just put it in the hole," and I laughed and went, "That's what SHE said."

He gave me a Look.

What?

It's more enjoyable when you at least try and make putting together furniture FUN.

Ring of Kerry

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Today we took a Jarvey ride into Killarney National Park with Kevin and Seattle Slew. We saw Ross Castle and other beautiful sites of the area. We then joined the rest of the group and headed to the Ring of Kerry. The Ring ride takes a good half day to complete. We saw the Atlantic Ocean from Dingle Bay, we saw a bog village, bog pony, and had a great time during the trip. The weather was lovely - brisk and breezy. What more could you ask for. I hope you enjoy my little presentation.

I Won! and Checkup Fun!

First off, look what I won!



Jiggity Jigg was hosting a giveaway and I, of course, entered.

The giveaway was for a beautiful necklace from Kristen's Custom Creations. Kristen makes beautiful stuff and I was so hoping that I'd win.

I tried not to get my hopes up too much because I rarely ever win. I mean, I enter giveaways that magazines do all the time and I've never won a single thing.

But then Jiggity Jigg contacted me and told me that I was the winner!

I went, "WOOHOO!" and my husband was all, "What in the WORLD?" because he was all engrosed in some boring old World War 2 program where the narrator talks. like. this. and I probably startled him because I was actually speaking in normal tones.



But anyhow, isn't the necklace beautiful? I love that it says Lucky because it is so true. I was lucky to win the necklace. And I'm lucky to have a husband who puts up with my weirdness and two kids who accept that fact that I will never be one of those crafty moms who can make leaves turn into paper dolls.

So thank you again to Kristen's Custom Creations and to Jiggity Jigg!

And believe me, it's a good thing that I cropped my face out in the picture. I was having a bad face day. People can have bad hair days and bad face days, you see.

And yes, those are The Beatles on my shirt. Because The Beatles rock.

Anyhow, Natalie and Tommy had their checkups yesterday.

At 7:30 in the morning.

When I called to make the appointment I asked if I could possibly combine them. Then the lady on the other end of the phone went, "Sure. That's 7:30 and 8:10 then," and I thought she was giving me an option of which time to show up.

"Oh gosh. 8:10, definately," I said quickly.

I mean 7:30!

I usually wake up at 7. And at the base clinic they like you there fifteen minutes prior. So that would mean I'd have to wake up at 6:30 so I wasn't running around like a crazed lunatic.

Waking up at 7 is hard enough for me. When the alarm goes off I'm always half tempted to throw it against the wall. I have never been a morning person. Well, I guess I was when I was little. But I was a kid and didn't comprehend the beauty of Sleeping In.

But then the lady on the other end of the phone chuckled and went, "No, I've set you up with two appointments. The first one starts at 7:30."

GUH!

And with the base clinic you don't argue. Because getting an appointment at the base clinic is like getting Nadya Suleman to stop having babies.

So I accepted the horrible 7:30 appointment.

When my alarm went off at 6:30 yesterday I was in the middle of a fantastic dream where I had won the lottery. For some reason I purchased a pile of candy and was jumping into it, flinging pieces in the air and shouting, "I'm Queen of the CANDY!"

I really have bizarre dreams sometimes.

But then the shrill ringing of my alarm clock interrupted that and I angrily cracked open one eye and uttered a naughty word.

Well, a string of naughty words, really.

I forced myself out of bed and trudged into Tommy's room. I always wake him up by rubbing his back so I started to do that and then my eyes started to close.

"Mommy?" Tommy's voice cut through my blissful sleep. "MOMMY!"

My eyes popped open in surprise. Huh? What? CANDY?

Oh.

Then I realized where I was.

"It's time to wake up. Please get dressed," I muttered and headed for Natalie's room.

Natalie, well, she doesn't like being disturbed when she's sleeping. Which is ironic because she doesn't have any qualms in disturbing me when I'M trying to sleep.

She whined at me and tried to kick my face.

"That's not nice," I told her firmly and scooped her up. She immediately went limp and I don't have much strength first thing in the morning so it was a little awkward carrying her down the stairs.

"Natalie. Please stand up," I said in my best Mom voice. Which didn't sound very stern because I was still half asleep.

Which is probably why Natalie didn't take me seriously and continued to behave like a wet noodle. I tried to set her on the ground and she crumpled to the floor, balled herself up and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

I managed to get breakfast for Tommy and asked Natalie if she wanted to eat.

"NOT UH!" she screamed at me from her ball-form.

I was shocked that we actually made it out the door on time.

When we got to the base clinic I was given some paperwork to fill out. I was trying to do that and prevent Natalie from leaving the waiting room area. At one point she went, "Bye" and started walking off.

It's no wonder that I had only answered three questions by the time we were called back.

Tommy was weighed and measured first.

He is now 44 lbs. And he's 47 and a half inches.

Then they gave him an eye exam down the hall. I could hear him shouting what he saw. I guess they did the picture exam because I could hear Tommy going,

"That's a star! A tree. A cup! Hey, do you want a cup of tea? Tea is good!"

Man my kid is loud. His voice seriously echoed down the hall.

Then I could hear the nurse go, "You don't need to elaborate on the pictures. Just call it a cup and that's fine."

"But tea is good!" Tommy explained. "A cup of tea!"

Having a kid with ADHD is always an exciting adventure.

Then I could hear him go, "A dog. That's a circle. A square. A cat! Do you know I have a cat named Max?!"

The eye exam probably took longer than usual since my kid had to ramble about some of the objects.

But his vision is perfect. Tommy didn't seem thrilled though. He sort of stomped back in the room and said, "This means I don't get glasses!"

He's been wanting glasses since a friend of his wears them now.

After Tommy was finished being looked over then it was Natalie's turn. I had to get her naked to be weighed and she always looks startled that I'm removing her clothes in front of a perfect stranger. I always half expect her to shield her crotch or something.

It turns out that she's 32.5 inches long. And she only weighs 20.2 pounds. Which is in the ZERO percentile.

Oh well.

At least her clothes last longer, you know. People are always all, "Why bother buying new clothes when the kid is going to outgrow them in a week!"

Um. Not MY kids. My kids can wear clothes for a few years before they finally outgrow them.

Natalie actually didn't scream or try to bite the doctor this time.

The bottom line is that both kids are healthy albeit on the skinny side.

I was given a piece of paper that listed a few facts about the two-year-old before I left.



Some of them made me giggle.

I decided to write some responses to some of the statements.


PAPER SAYS: Use picture books to enrich your child's vocabulary. Reading books to your child will help with language development.

MY RESPONSE: So, er, does reading catalogues outloud to the kid count? Because I'll sometimes flip through a clothing magazine and read the description to Natalie.

"Natalie! Listen to this. Beautiful red and white striped dress with buttons accenting the front and OH! OH! look at this darling denim skirt with an adjustable waist!"

I even branch out to the food magazines that constantly stuff my mailbox. I think companies have caught wind that I like to eat.

I recently got a magazine from The Popcorn Factory and I read the following outloud to Natalie:

"This elegant basket is exceptionally impressing with its commanding presence and superior snacks: Easter jellybeans, foil-wrapped chocolate eggs, tortilla chips and salsa, honey roast peanuts, chocolate chips cookies...."

I mean, now she gets excited when I mention the word jellybeans. So I'd say that catalogues count.

-------------

PAPER SAYS: Limit television viewing. Do not use the TV as a babysitter or as a substitute for interaction with your child.

MY RESPONSE: Erm. I'm currently writing this and Natalie is watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Is that bad? In my defense, the characters are teaching Natalie that's it's not okay to bite her friends.

---------------

PAPER SAYS: Do not worry if your child becomes curious about body parts. This is normal at this age. It is best to use the correct terms for genitals.

MY RESPONSE: So calling a vagina a cahootie and a penis a peen is probably a no-no?

-------------

PAPER SAYS: Discipline should be firm and consistent, but loving and understanding. Praise your child for his or her good behavior and accomplishments.

MY RESPONSE: "Good job, Natalie! Thank you so much for not ripping my hair out of its roots when you insisted on brushing it."

-----------

PAPER SAYS: Use the two I's of discipline (ignore and isolate) rather than the two S's (shouting and spanking.) When disciplining, try to make a verbal separation between the child and their behavior. ("I love you but I do not like it when you touch the VCR.")

MY RESPONSE: First of all, who has a VCR anymore? Second of all, oops, I may have shouted when Natalie pushed a button on the remote and caused my DVRed Grey's Anatomy to become erased. Was that wrong? Should I have said, "I love you but I do not like that I now don't know how that guy whose face was half gone fared.")

------------

PAPER SAYS: Provide alternatives. "No, you cannot play with the telephone, but you can play with these blocks."

MY RESPONSE: "No, you cannot play with my makeup but you may pretend that my tampons are rockets."

----------


PAPER SAYS: Avoid power struggles. No one wins!

MY RESPONSE: Everyone wins when chocolate is involved. "Want some chocolate? Then please get down from the entertainment center."

---------


PAPER SAYS: The 2-year-old may adopt a security object that he or she keeps with him or her most of the time. This is normal and the youngster will give it up when he or she is ready.

MY RESPONSE: I hope so. Because if Natalie heads off to middle school gripping her creepy Brobee doll then there could be some problems.

----------


PAPER SAYS: Parents should continue to take some time to themselves. Show affection in the family.

MY RESPONSE: But whenever I try to kiss my husband Natalie becomes insanely jealous and throws a tantrum. I feel sorry for her future boyfriend. I can see him talking to another girl and Natalie going off and throwing her Brobee at him.

----------


PAPER SAYS: The 2-year-old will eat barely enough to keep a bird alive. Appetite is finicky and will vary from meal to meal and day to day.

MY RESPONSE: Natalie has always eaten like a bird. It's why she's only twenty pounds.

---------


PAPER SAYS: The child can name foods and tell parents his or her likes and dislikes.

MY RESPONSE: Natalie has been doing this from a young age. She once threw her peas at my head and nearly went into convulsions when I tried to get her to eat some green beans.


----------

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing this whole parenting thing all wrong. Hrm.

Killarney Day 1

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

Killarney, Ireland

Sunday, we took a Jarvey ride into Killarney National Park. It was so much fun. A Jarvey is a horse drawn wagon.....our driver, Kevin was precious. We were pulled by an Irish draft horse named Seattle Slew....sound familiar. One of the stops was at an old castle which I am showing on this page. To the right of the castle was a beautiful lake with swans floating on the the water. There was a fine Irish mist in the moor and it was a perfect day. What a great way to celebrate Sunday....God's day.....out in the world experiencing all His glory. After our Jarvey ride we headed into the Ring of Kerry. Our first stop would be a bog house in the bog village. At the bog village they harvest turf that is used for cooking and heating. It has a distinct smell....kind of comforting....kind of choking. We also visited the Red Fox Inn while we were there and had a touch of Irish coffee. Yumm Yummm! It does not taste anything like it does in the states. It was so good. Shopping for some quick souvenirs and then back on the bus for the next leg of our trek through the ring. There were so many cool places to see and to visit. I can't wait to fill you in on the rest of them.

My Dad is Sick....and I am Sad!

I came home from Ireland sick.....to a sick father. I was already worried because I left him here and did not stay home and take care of him....but I came home to a man who looked like a prisoner from Shindler's List. I slept most of Sunday, trying to get well.....and on Monday called in sick and Frank took me to the doctor. My mom took my dad to chemo in Sylacauga. Dr. Roberts diagnosed me with ear infections, sinisitis, bronchitis, tonsilitis...and every other itis known to man-kind. My mom showed up....sin my father.....about 4:30. He was at the hospital....and they were going to admit him when they had a room available. He was dehydrated, his blood count was low, and his creatin level was high. I could not have felt more miserable....in that I could not go with her...because he did not need to be around me. To be honest....after 58 years of marriage.....she is the only one who can take care of him. He is not up for grabs there. She has always been extremely possessive when it comes to taking care of my dad. Anyways, at 11:00 last night they finally got him into a room. I have to wear a mask to go in and see him and can only stay a few minutes at a time. He looks so sad laying balled up in a fetal position on his bed. It makes me want to cry. They are giving him blood and liquids to try and build his blood count back up and drive his dehydration down. After they get him on the road to mending....they will treat his cough and the other things that are wrong with him.....but for right now....he has a long road to hoe. Keep us in your prayers....and hope that he begins to bounce back from this black hole he seems to have fallen into. God Bless You Everyone!

Not Popcorn Chicken

So we went to Fort Collins over the weekend.

Fort Collins has Toys R Us and an assortment of restaurants that poor old Cheyenne does have.

Oh, and they have Auntie Anne’s pretzels in their mall. And I’m sorry, but Auntie Anne’s cinnamon sugar pretzels are the best things in the world. Our mall just has a Pretzelmaker and their cinnamon sugar pretzels don’t taste the same. I’ll sometimes buy one to try and sate off the Auntie Anne craving but it doesn’t work. I always wish that Pretzelmaker will shut down and be replaced by Auntie Anne’s. I sometimes stare wistfully at the Pretzelmaker store and be all, “Go away. Be replaced with Auntie Anne’s.” And plus, the people working at Pretzelmakers aren’t that bright. They had printed signs all over the store that said: “Smile. Your on camera!” Um, that would be y-o-u APOSTROPHE r-e. I always want to say something when I go in there but then I’m worried they’ll spit on my pretzel.

Anyhow, we stopped off at Toys R Us. I’m nearly as excited as the kids to go there. It means I get to push an assortment of buttons even though it embarrasses Tom. He always asks me if I have to touch everything and I’ll say, “Of course,” before pushing another toy. It’s just they didn’t have toys like that when I was growing up.

Natalie spotted a creepy Yo Gabba Gabba plate right away. She nearly leaped out of her cart to get to the thing. I handed it to her and she hugged it to her chest and sighed out, “Brobee!” Brobee, in case you didn’t know is the creepy green character in the show that likes to have parties in his tummy. I’m not joking.

After Toys R Us we went to the mall and of course I got my Auntie Anne’s cinnamon sugar pretzel. I even had a coupon for a buy one get one free pretzel so that excited me even more. It meant I didn’t have to share with the kids.

I split the pretzel with Tom and he wolfed his down in less than thirty seconds it seemed. Then he stared at me and said, “Are you done?” Which drives me insane because I clearly am NOT done. Sometimes I think he’s going blind. Because I’ll have a huge chunk of food in front of me and he’ll always ask if I’m done and I want to shout, “Fool! Do you not SEE the food in front of me?” But I don’t. I just calmly say, “Nope,” and take a bite and pretend I don’t see Tom sighing impatiently.

Well, sorry Tom. I wasn’t trained to gobble my food down. In basic training Tom says that they’d sometimes have five minutes to eat so everyone learned to inhale their meals.

When we finished eating we walked around the mall. I stopped into Gymboree and I’m proud to say that I didn’t buy a thing. Then we got some caramel and chocolate apples from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. I love those things. I pretend that they’re still healthy since they’re apples. The apples cancel out the caramel and chocolate in my mind.

After the mall we went to Golden Corral. Which is this all you can eat buffet that is awesome. They have rolls with honey butter and you can have as many as you want. The waiter must think we’re total pigs because we usually ask for three baskets.

I load my plate with food and Tom will always say, “Uh, you do know you can go back for seconds. You don’t have to put everything on one plate.”

True but…sometimes I can’t decide if I want to start off with the pot roast, the fried chicken or the spaghetti. So I get all three.

I still go back for seconds.

When I went back the second time on that day I decided to pick up these little fried ball things. I assumed it was popcorn chicken. Usually everything is labeled but I guess the workers didn’t get to it yet. Maybe because they were too busy texting. I saw a few messing around with their phones at the drink center. They tried to be secretive about it but it’s sort of hard to hide a finger flying around on a phone.

So I came back with what I thought was popcorn chicken and took my seat. I took a sip of sweet tea and then I took a bite of the popcorn chicken.

But see, it wasn’t popcorn chicken.

It turned out to be SHRIMP.

And I hate shrimp.

I didn’t want to be rude and spit it out in my napkin. I’m always paranoid that a security camera will catch me doing something like that and I’ll end up on YouTube or something. Then my video will be called, “Gross woman spits out food!” and it’ll show me yakking in my napkin.

Then when I’m out in public people will be all, “You’re the woman who spit out her food! Ew!”

And Martha Stewart will have me on her show and berate me for doing such a thing and I’ll a hang my head and be all, “I’m sorry, Martha.”

So I sat there chewing and trying not to vomit from the oceany taste that was filling my mouth.

Tom noticed my expression and asked what was wrong.

“I accidentally ate shrimp,” I muttered out. I had tucked the shrimp in the corner of my mouth so that I could speak. I probably looked like a broken chipmunk.

“Spit it out!” Tom said.

Of course he’d say something like that. The man scratches his balls and emits loud burps and then tries to convince me that I should LIKE his burps. “Because the louder I burp the more it means that I enjoyed what you cooked!” For the record, he burps the loudest when I make lasagna.

“I can’t,” I replied. “What if….someone sees?” My eyes darted around the room as though I expected to see someone with their cell phone lifted up in my direction, prepared to tape me the second I spit my shrimp in the napkin.

“Just spit it out!” Tom practically shouted and finished eating his roll. “Are you almost done?”

I ignored him and excused myself to the bathroom.

And that’s where I spit out the shrimp. In a stall, in a wad of toilet paper.

I imagine Martha Stewart would praise me for doing the right thing.

Then I came back to the table and gulped down the rest of my tea to get rid of the shrimp taste in my mouth.

Yuck, yuck, yuck.

I went back for dessert next. I sample each cake or pie that’s out. Sometimes an elderly person will sidle up beside me and gasp out, “Is that all for you, dear?” while gaping at my plate.

“Yup,” I’ll say proudly.

“Goodness! Bless your heart!” one old lady told me and pressed a palm to her heart.

What? I’m going to get my money’s worth.

Tom always shakes his head at me when I sit down with all my treasures.

“You think you have enough there?” he usually always ask.

“No. I’m going back to get some ice cream,” I’ll respond.

I just eat the frosting part of the carrot cake.

“That’s disgusting,” Tom always says.

”No it’s not. It’s the best part,” I’ll answer. Mmm, cream cheese frosting.

Then I’ll take a few bites of the chocolate cake, a few bites of the berry pie and a few bites of the strawberry cake.

Yum.

Then it’s off to get some ice cream. With sprinkles of course.

At this point Tom is impatient. Because he’d have been done eating for at least fifteen minutes by then. So he’ll lean back in his chair and give a few sighs here and there and I’ll totally zone him out.

I don’t allow anyone to ruin Dessert Time.

When I finish my ice cream I’ll proclaim that I’m done and Tom will sometimes say in a sarcastic tone, “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

Actually, sometimes I do but I don’t want to come across as a TOTAL pig.

We drove home after that. When we passed the border to Wyoming I noticed there was a sign for Trail Rides.

“Tom!” I exclaimed. “Trail rides!” I gestured to the sign and Tom quickly glanced over.

“No thanks,” he said.

Sometimes Tom is so boring.

“Oh come on!” I begged. “It would be so much fun. We could pretend that we’re on an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I’d be Ma, you could be Pa, Natalie could be Laura and Tommy...well, I guess he’d have to be Albert, the little boy they adopted. Poor Pa really wanted a boy and Ma so wanted to give him one but she never did. Actually, Pa reminds me a little of Henry the Eighth because he desperately wanted a son just like Henry the Eighth. Only Pa didn’t behead Ma when she didn’t give him one.”

“Are you talking to me?” Tom spoke up.

“YES!” I shrieked. “Who did you think I was talking to?”

I mean honestly. Sometimes I wonder why I bother speaking to Tom at all.

It can definitely be a drag when you’re married to a man with no imagination.

The Day From Hell.....

Ok, so most of you know I left last Friday going to Ireland....here is the beginning of the rest of the story. Day 1 we left Atlanta airport at 11:18 Eastern time....which meant...I got up at 4:00 Central time to get to the airport and through security within the time frame they have alloted for you. Our first ray of opportunity occured around 7:15...when they were able to put us on an earlier flight to Chicago's O'Hare....at 10. There were six of us....and we all got to be bumped up....so we took it. Off to Chicago we went.....arriving there....about an hour and half before we should have.....but with the same layover....4+ hours. We discovered about 2...that the plane we were supposed to be on.....was running late....2 hours. Whew I was so glad we were on the earlier flight. Finally our boarding time was called and the next leg of our journey began. There would be a 5 hour time change on the next part....so leaving Chicago at 4:50....was now actually 9:50. We flew through the night and arrived at Heathrow at 5:15 in the morning.....leg 3 would be at 9:10....so we ate some breakfast and changed some money to Euros and Pounds. They eat beans with their eggs. We ate breakfast at Giraffes....it was a posh little health food restaurant....but beans with eggs....was gross. Finally our flight was called to Dublin...and we marched over to the gate for AerLingus...as we entered the AerLingus compound....Marian....remembered she did not have her camera....and took off back to where we had been sitting....we began to sweat bullets hoping she would make it back before the plane took off. One of the last of three to enter the plane was Marian...smiling with her camera.....and leg 4 began.....we then headed to Shannon....and landed around 12:30 only to find out that our luggage did not make it with us. With so many changes it is a miracle any of us got luggage. Tori, Mary, Marion and I are without luggage. Dakota and Rachel have theirs....lucky stiffs. We have now been traveling...over 24 hours....and we are all zonkered. Satyen Kells, our tour guide met us....and off we headed to Killarney....our destination for the next couple of days...we had to pick up the other Alabama group.....at a hotel where they were waiting....and then take a long bus ride to Glenna House. We arrived, checked in, ate supper - pork, french fries, and beans.....what is with the beans?....and I took a shower and headed for bed. Luggage arrived at the hotel around 9:30. We were so glad to see it. Tomorrow is another day.....and actually...day 3....Sunday....we will be doing the Ring of Kerry tomorrow and taking a Jarvey Ride. I can't wait....head on pillow....and I am out. Come back for tomorrow's episode of Ireland.

The Adventure at Chili's

It started off innocently enough.

We had decided to eat at Chili’s. I was thrilled because it meant that I didn’t have to cook. Everyone else was thrilled because it meant that they didn’t have to eat what I cooked. So really, a win-win situation.

We were led to a booth and given the menus.

“Should I have the jalapeño bacon burger or the sirloin steak?” I said out loud. I took an air bite and imagined myself eating each dish and tried to figure out which one excited my stomach more.

“Stop doing that,” Tom hissed at me from across the table. He was watching me from over his menu.

“I have to figure out what I want,” I explained.

The waitress came over and asked what we wanted to drink.

I wanted strawberry lemonade. But I really am trying to watch my calories. You know, since bathing suit weather is approaching. During the cold months I can stuff my face and hide the excess fat with oversized shirts and pants that are a few sizes too big. But when it gets warm and the fabric of clothing becomes minimal, well, you really can’t hide the flubber so well.

So I ordered a diet coke. I probably should have ordered water. I could have saved two bucks on the drink and money is something else that I need to be saving.

Because shopping season is approaching. Actually, to be honest, shopping season is probably every few days for me. But next month I’ll be going to the Mall of America and I need the extra dough.

The waitress went to retrieve our drinks and I was still contemplating on what I wanted to get.

Tom calmly shut his menu and rested his hands on top of it. He always knows what he wants after only glancing at the menu for a few seconds. I wish I were able to do that. I usually look at various dishes and it’s like, “Mmmm, that looks good.” Then I move onto another dish and then I’m all, “Oooo but it’s chicken with corn on the COB slathered with mouthwatering seasoning!"

I was so busy determining what I wanted that I barely heard Tommy say,

“I have a question.”

I assumed the question was going to be a simple one. Like, sometimes he’ll ask if he can go to the moon and I'll explain that he has to be an astronaut to do something like that. Or become insanely rich. I imagine if you handed over a wad of cash to the astronauts that they’d bring you to the moon.

Maybe he’d ask why his Daddy leaves his dirty socks all over the house. I wonder the same thing. My response would have been, “Actually, son, this baffles me too. Your father knows where the laundry room is. He knows where the laundry baskets are. Yet he to continues to toss his socks on the floor.”

But no. Tommy didn't ask a simple question this time.

What he asked was:

“Where is Max’s penis?”

Max, by the way, is our cat.

And he said this right when the waitress brought our drinks over. Her eyes got all big after Tommy asked the question and I could see a smile beginning to form on her lips. Actually, she has more willpower than I do. I probably would have burst out laughing and then covered it up with a fake cough or something.

But because it was MY kid that said such a thing, I was immediately embarrassed. I felt my face grow warm and I muttered thank you to the stunned waitress who appeared to not know what to do next. She pulled out her notebook and filled the shocked silence by asking if we knew what we wanted.

Tom, he was a little appalled. It looked as though he had been slapped or something. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. The waitress stood there awkwardly and I HAD to break the mortified silence so I said that I’d have the sirloin steak.

“How would you like that cooked?” the waitress asked in a wobbly voice. She definitely was trying hard not to laugh. I could just tell from her expression.

“Medium,” I sort of croaked out.

I picked my two sides to accompany the steak and then explained that Natalie would have the grilled cheese (though I wonder why I even bother getting her something as she just plays with most of the food) and then I found myself saying,

“And the penis will have a hamburger.”

The waitress emitted a funny noise then and I realized what I had done.

I had been so stunned over Tommy’s casual use of the p-word that I had called him one. When I get flustered I’ll say the strangest things.

“I mean!” I quickly corrected. “I mean, TOMMY will have a hamburger. No cheese. Plain.”

At that point I just wanted to slide down under the table.

Tom was still gaping at me with a mixture of horror and amusement. He quickly gave his order and the waitress scurried away. I saw her hunched over with her notebook pressed in front of her mouth. I imagine she burst into laughter as soon as she got back into the kitchen.

“I can’t believe some of the things you say sometimes,” Tom said, shaking his head. And then he looked over at Tommy and reminded him that talking about male genitialia wasn’t appropriate the dinner table.

“But we’re at a booth,” Tommy responded knowingly. “I just want to know how Max goes pee.”

So I sort of started mumbling about how Max’s penis is tucked in and sort of comes out when he uses the bathroom and Tom was shooting horrifying looks at me and gesturing for me to stop talking about such things.

But really, Tommy was just curious.

And what sort of mother would I be if I didn’t explain how Max urinates?

When our food was brought out I noticed the waitress didn’t want to look us in the eye. She sort of plopped our food down and asked the floor if we needed anything else.

“We’re good. Thank you,” I said and forced a smile as though nothing amiss had occurred. What? What do you mean that my son asked how his cat peed? I think you’ve mistaken us for another booth.

My sirloin steak was delicious by the way. I took a bite as I cut up Natalie’s sandwich.

“All done,” Natalie said and tried to escape.

All done? She hadn’t even had a bite yet.

I always try to get her excited about food. I’ll start to talk in this scary high pitched voice and say things like, “Wow! Your food looks YUMMY. How about we have a BITE?”

Of course Natalie looks at me as though I’ve completely lost it. But sometimes I can get her to take a bite.

In the middle of eating and trying to get Natalie to eat, I felt Tom’s foot press against mine. My heart leapt with joy.

He was playing footsie with me!

Footsie!

We hadn’t played footsie in....crap, I couldn’t even remember. Probably when we were dating.

So I gave Tom a wide smile and reached out and caressed his hand lovingly.

Tom gave me a bewildered look as he chewed his mini buffalo burger and I nudged his foot back with my own.

I felt his foot on mine again and this time it felt more forceful. Silly Tom, sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. But still, he was being so romantic playing footsie with me after all.

“It’s so sweet of you to play footsie with me,” I told Tom in a seductive voice. I even batted my eyelashes at him.

Tom still looked confused. “I wasn’t playing footsie with you,” he said bluntly. “I was trying to get your feet out of my area.”

Wait.

What?

You mean...he was PUSHING my feet away? He WASN’T playing footsie with me?

I puffed my lower lip out. “I thought you were playing footsie,” I explained.

Tom made a face. “Why would I do that?”

I don’t know. To be ROMANTIC?

“To be romantic,” I blurted and then pushed around some meat on my plate.

“That sort of thing is done when people are dating,” Tom said.

I shook my head. “It could be done when you’re married,” I replied in a sad tone.

Then a few minutes later I felt Tom's foot against mine.

"Tom, my feet are on MY SIDE," I snapped, not even bothering to look up.

Tom's sneaker tapped mine.

"TOM!" I shrieked. "If I move my feet anymore I'll be under the booth!"

I mean honestly. He can't have ALL the space. I get that I'm only 5'3 and he's six feet and that he probably needs extra room. But I can only give so much! Just because I'm small doesn't mean that I'm not entitled to proper foot space.

"No," Tom said in an irritated tone. "I'm playing footsie with you."

I looked up and frowned. "So I'm getting pity footsie now?" I asked dryly. "No thanks." Then I gave his foot a forceful kick of my own. He could take his footsie and SHOVE it.

"Oh. Stop it. You know I love you," Tom said and wiggled his eyebrows up and down. Then he flared his nostrils at me which isn't fair, because he knows that it makes me laugh.

He did make it up to me though.

He took me out to get some ice cream.

And really, ice cream makes everything better.

The Yellow Tutu

First off, yes, my MySpace was hacked. People have been getting weird e-mails from me. I did not send them. I think they are about a weight loss trial. Come on. You all know I like to eat. I wouldn't participate in any weight loss trial. I'm already abused enough by my WiiFit.

Anyhow, so yesterday was Natalie's birthday.

To celebrate, I took her to one of my favorite stores, Gymboree.

Just to look, I promise!

Plus, okay, they were having a sale. I got word that a bunch of older lines were going to be $9.99 and under. And I figured it wouldn't hurt to glance at what was on sale.

So Natalie and I headed to the mall. Whenever I go to the mall I get a sweet tea from Chick-fil-a. They have amazing sweet tea. I could drink their sweet tea all day. I could even compose a song about sweet tea. It would go something like this:

Chick-fil-a sweet tea!
How I love thee!
You make me squeal with glee!
Oh, I just love the tea!

Yeah, so okay.

Obviously writing songs is not my forte. I get it.

The bottom line is that I love the tea.

I walked past Gymboree in order to get to Chick-fil-a and I craned my neck to see what was going on inside.

And fine, to make sure other customers weren't going through the sale rack and taking my items.

I did see a customer flipping through a rack and she even took an adorable shirt off and examined it closer. My heart started to race.

Hey! That's MY shirt! I found myself thinking.

Then my Voice of Reason popped up and I HATE my Voice of Reason. It was all, "Amber. You have enough. Who cares if that lady buys the shirt?"

Yes but. It's pink. With stripes. And there's a bon bon on the front.

"Amber. Who cares? You have enough!" my Voice of Reason argued with me.

I was so busy staring indignantly at the customer that I collided right into a sign advertising pretzels at Pretzelmaker.

KATHUD!

That's the sound it made when the stroller smashed into it.

Poor Natalie, she had covered her face and braced for impact. Then she turned around and started telling me off in her own language. It sounded something like this:

"Bwa mama be me ow na ma!"

Translated I think she said: "Buy me that pink striped shirt with the bon bon on front."

Okay, fine.

She was probably telling me to watch where I was going because she didn't want to have a scar. Then when her future boyfriends would ask where she got the scar she'd be all, "Oh. Mom was staring into Gymboree and collided with a pretzel sign."

I promised Natalie that I'd pay more attention and tried to pretend that I never ran into a sign at all. Even though a guy sitting at one of the nearby tables was chuckling into his fist. I saw him pull out his cell phone and his fingers started moving quickly over it. He probably texted a friend:

GRL RAN INTO PRTZL SIGN! LOL!

Luckily there wasn't a line at Chick-fil-a. Because I had to get back to Gymboree before the lady BOUGHT MY BON BON SHIRT!

Well, Natalie's bon bon shirt.

I've never fully understood why children's clothing are more exciting to me than adult clothing.

Maybe because they're so tiny.

The young male Chick-fil-a worker took my order and looked surprised that all I wanted was a sweet tea.

"You don't want a sandwich with that?" he inquired.

I shook my head rapidly. "No. Just the sweet tea," I said in a rushed tone.

BON BON SHIRT. BONBONSHIRT!

"Are you sure--" he began again.

"Just the sweet tea please!" I cut him off.

He looked stunned. But then he turned on his heel and marched off towards the tea.

I did watch to make sure he didn't spit into it.

And really, I wasn't trying to be rude but it's all, suppose I was trying to watch my weight?

And here he is trying to tempt me with a chicken sandwich!

Then I'd have been all, "Stop being a food pusher, cashier," and that would have insulted him even more.

He handed me the sweet tea and I pressed two dollar bills into his palm.

Then I started to hurry off.

BONBONSHIRT! BONBONSHIRT!

"Ma'am! Your change!" the cashier shouted at my retreating back.

"Keep it for a job well done!" I shouted.

"GEE THANKS. A whole quarter!" was his sarcastic reply.

But whatever. I had to get back to Gymboree.

So I walked at top speed back to the store and by the time I got there I was out of breath and panting.

The Gymboree worker looked up from her spot behind the cash register and raised an eyebrow as I walked past her breathing sharply.

"Good morning!" she finally said. "We haven't seen you in awhile."

Now, she's not my favorite Gymboree worker but she's nice enough.

"I...heard.....sale..." I gasped out.

"On that rack back there. We don't have a lot left though," the Gymboree worker explained.

She gestured to a tiny rack where that customer had been looking at the bon bon shirt.

That customer wasn't there anymore.

Did she buy the bon bon shirt?

I hurried over to the rack and went through the clothes.

No bon bon shirt.

But then...

There it was, at the very end. She had put it with the size 5 stuff even though it was a size 18-24. Could she not read the signs? Or maybe she was trying to HIDE it so no one else would buy it.

But who really cared? I had the shirt!

My heart leapt with joy.

I took it from the rack and showed Natalie.

"Look! And it's in your size!" I told her.

But Natalie wasn't there. No. She had climbed out of the stroller and was sitting under another rack of clothes.

"Petty," she told me seriously, holding onto a yellow tutu.

Which, oh my gosh, it WAS pretty. And it WAS on sale but not the $9.99 sale.

"We're not getting the tutu today," I explained to Natalie.

My fingers reached out to touch it.

Ooo beautiful tutu. How I wish I could buy thee. But I mustn't.

And then I started to think.

You have a 20% off coupon. That would make the tutu sixteen dollars.

But then the Voice of Reason returned.

"Natalie has enough tutus. She doesn't need another one."

But it's YELLOW! And Natalie LOVES it!

My Voice of Reason wouldn't relent. "Natalie loves anything that's puffy."

Which IS true.

But still.

A girl can never have enough tutus, right? I mean, Sarah Jessica Parker wore one on Sex and the City for goodness sakes!

"The tutu goes perfectly with that shirt," the Gymboree worker spoke up, gesturing to an adorable top that read: 'Cute as a bug.'

ACK!

Natalie IS cute as a bug. Really, she is.

The outfit would be PERFECT for her. It would--

"Amber," my Voice of Reason cut in. "She doesn't NEED it. She has plenty of shirts with the word 'cute' on it."

But it's cute as a BUG!

"SHE DOESN'T NEED THE *%%#&@&* outfit!!!"

Woah. My Voice of Reason was pissed.

So I had to pass on the outfit. Believe me, it wasn't easy.

I just ended up with the bon bon shirt and a few shirts that I found for Tommy for $3.99.

Goodbye, yellow tutu.

I have some pictures of Natalie opening some of her presents:



When she woke first woke up we opened a few presents. Here she was checking out her new Princess doll.



Tommy got impatient on how slowly Natalie opened her presents. So he started opening them for her.



Natalie got a creepy Plex toy.



Look at Tommy's expression when the Plex toy started to sing. That's basically my expression throughout the entire Yo Gabba Gabba program.



I started to take all the toys from the packages. Those plastic ties are evil.



Natalie tried on her DJ Lance hat and glasses. On the show The Soup it says that DJ Lance looks like a Russian Steve Urkel. That's so true.



After bathtime Natalie got a few more presents. Tommy was explaining to Natalie that she was no longer a baby and that's why she didn't get any baby toys. Natalie is all "Yeah yeah, whatevs."



Natalie did not blow out her own candles. She tried to put them out with her palm. I went, "Oh my GOD!" because I'm overly dramatic like that and Tom went, "Thanks for screeching in my ear. Now they're ringing."



Natalie ate all of two pieces of cake before saying, "All done!"

She's just always going to be skinny I suppose. I was all, "But Natalie, all that frosting.." and she gave me a stern look and repeated, "All DONE!" in a firm voice.

Okay, then.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Natalie

Dear Natalie,

I can hardly believe that you’re two.

It seems like only yesterday when I was pushing you out and snapping at your father that he’d better savor you, because there would be no more babies coming from my uterus.

I’d like to say that you’ll skip the Terrible Twos. But darling, that fit you threw this morning would prove that statement to be false. Remember, we don’t throw our shoes across the room. It could hurt someone. And Natalie, you may think that your hat would look fantastic on the cat but unfortunately the cat does not agree.

I’ve learned a lot of things about you in your short two years.

For instance, when you were first born you did not appreciate hats:



I'm a little confused at this honey, because the hat was adorable.



I tried to pair the hat with clothes but you weren't keen on that either.

While we're at it, you also didn't seem to enjoy the following:



Headbands.



Your carseat. Even though I tried to make it more enjoyable by adding nifty toys. (You didn't care.)



Photoshoots with a white fuzzy background.



Mommy.



People not holding you correctly.



Pink hats.



And shirts that said "Tax Deduction."

But sweetheart, I did discover that there were things that you loved:



Daddy.



Daddy.



Oh and...Daddy. Darling, please remember who birthed you.



Your brother.



A creepy character named Brobee.



The beach. And seagulls.



And human beings dressed up as Disney characters.

Natalie, I can't wait to learn more about you. You make me laugh on a daily basis. You also like to pierce my eardrums with your screeching. Remember your Indoor Voice, sweetheart.

I love you so much and I am so lucky to be your mother.

Thank you for letting me dress you up like this:



Without any sort of complaint.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday, my darling.

I will always love you.

Love,
Your Mommy.

-----------------

I also made a video in honor of Natalie's birthday.

Please note that I do understand that it's not a good thing to be a Material Girl. (Or IS it...) (Kidding. I promise.)

It's just for fun.

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com