jill jill bo bill

I Am Sucking Less Than Normal And Amazing Myself

2010-01-17T13:08:00.000-06:00

As I stated earlier and actually followed through with (shocking, I know), I got a camera and took pictures of what my SS, Dawn, gave me for Christmas. The SECOND great gift she sent me. The first was a Sonic card, which I already used to purchase my crack-like addiction to their drinks; a set of darling note cards, and candy which my heathen daughter gave my perfect grandbabies as a bribe to keep them quiet at the store.

So, pictured below is the example of the PERFECT gift from the PERFECT Secret Santa.

Here you can see the tshirt that looks exceptionally cute with a long handle shirt underneath that disquises my jiggly wing-like upper arms.

I know you are green with envy.

Not about my arms, but about how cute this is, and that it's mine, not your's...

Now here is the picture of the jewelry. It's got bling, zebra print, a cross, and turquoise. It's a totally orgasmic combination for me.

Okay I am done making you jealous.

Just cross your fingers that next year Dawn gets your name.

AND cross all fingers and toes that you don't get my name.

But if luck runs out and you do get my name, pray that I will actually be aware that your gift has arrived and I will blog about it prior to 3 weeks after Christmas.

Peace.

Dawn=Good, Jill=Bad

2010-01-15T06:28:00.017-06:00

Okay I totally suck. TOTALLY.

My SS (who, by the way, is my real-life precious friend, Dawn) sent me another gift and seeing that it is only TWENTY days past Christmas and I just now am making reference to it, just proves how badly I suck.

My precious children did not mention I had a package in the entry hall until 11pm the night of the 26th when we were madly packing for our trip. So after I tore into it and screeched with delight, they felt bad they had robbed me of the joy that should have been mine like weeks earlier. (Have I mentioned I really am not digging my brats at this moment???)

Anywhoooo, drumroll please.........

Okay close your eyes and picture this because I still haven't found my damn camera. Only, don't really close your eyes because you can't read with your eyes closed....

Dawn sent me the absolutely CUTEST brown tshirt with a turquoise cross. I LOVE IT!!!! AND she sent me the most gorgeous turquoise necklace with the most AWESOME silver framed charm with zebra (my fave!!) background with a cross on it. I LOVE IT, TOO!!!!!!

Dawn, I cannot thank you enough for the best presents I received this year!!! I am so sorry that time has gotten away and I haven't blogged in forever and acknowledged how incredibly awesome you are and how much I truly love all you got me.

I am going to go buy a new camera and prove how lucky am!! Not now of course because it's way too early and I have to go work, but later tonight.

Y'all are going to be so damn jealous!!!!

I love you, Dawn!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!

My SS Rocks the Casbah

2009-12-08T09:56:00.000-06:00

Dearest SS who is from Oklahoma and I love dearly,

Your GREAT gift was received 2 weeks ago. I apologize with all my heart for not posting pictures immediately upon arrival. The note cards are FABULOUS and the gift card to SONIC will be used daily for my addiction. The SPREES and TWIZZLERS, which are some of my favorite candy, were eaten by my perfect grandchildren because their mother, my not-so-perfect daughter, bribed them with it to be good at the grocery store without my knowledge.

My camera is gone, probably also used a bribe by my children who think my stuff is theirs. So I am unable to post cute pictures of me holding my wonderful gift and smiling my cheesey smile. Which, btw is a shame because in just a month I am now down to a triple zero and weigh 100 pounds, 30 of that being my boobs which magically grew to like a size GG....honest injun. But since I can't prove it with pictures, you will just have to trust me that I am so not lying just to get a laugh. I would never do that.....

Okay really, THANK YOU so very much for my gift. I LOVE it!!!!!

Pat Me On The Back- Hurry!!!

2009-10-25T12:32:00.004-05:00

Work all week where you are surrounded by people who's average age is 81, then spend the weekend with college kids and try to figure where you fit in.

We celebrated Homecoming at the Nursing Home this week.
We:
Crowned Homecoming King and Queen
Played football
Danced
Tail gated
Drank near-beer (O'Dool's).

(Sorry no pix from the nursing home...ya know, legal issues about permission and blah blah blah. College kids are dumb and don't care if their picture is out there.)

We celebrated Homecoming at my son's college this weekend.
We:
Crowned Homecoming King and Queen
Played football
Danced
Tail gated
Drank REAL beer.

The DIFFERENCE between the crowds:
60 year age span
Perkier boobs.

SIMILARITIES:
Drooling
Catatonic stares
Excessive urination
Confusion
Laughter

I am proud to say:
The wheelchair races at the NH were uneventful, even though I was stuck having to push the heaviest ones and feared, if they put their feet down to stop at the finish line, my fat ass would be catapulted over their heads. Not one resident was dumped out, despite the idle threat I made to one. I really was just kidding........ Really....what????!!!!

I am even MORE proud to say:
I did not inflict any bodily injury to my son's ex who decided to show up for the party. I was even somewhat polite, not ending any sentence I said to her with the words "slut" or "whore".
I really am proud of myself.

So, all in all, this week was very successful for me. I did not lose my nursing license due to the fact no harm was done to people under my care. Nor did I go to jail for assault over the weekend. Basically, seven straight days of good clean fun. (Look----I am only inches from the "ex" that broke my baby's heart AND tried to pick a brawl with his older sister. She is an idiot, BTW.)

I am now looking forward to next week. We have a Halloween carnival on Friday where small children will attack us for candy and prizes at the NH, as well as costume party on Sat. at the local hang out. (Deb, it starts at eight. Be there or be square.)

Thank goodness I will be in disguise for both events. I can only contain myself for so long.

tap tap tap...Anybody out there???

2009-10-12T13:55:00.000-05:00

(clears throat nervously) Hey...yoo hoo...it's me. You probably don't remember me. I was once a faithful blogger that believed spending 4-5 hours/day immersed in cyberspace with all my friends was beneficial to me. Then someone convinced me I should become a real mom/wife/employee instead.

So, for 5 months I tried the life of not checking emails or blogs and trying to be productive, like cooking and cleaning and working my dimpley ass off.

I realized that being productive is NOT what it's cracked up to be. It is so NOT fun for me.

I also have since realized that I missed laughing and just how much I have missed my friends.

Truth is, I just can't quit y'all.

So I am back.

Quick recap:
Got out of partnership.
Took a real job.
Finished the pool project and now only go inside to pee and sleep.
Tried that whole domestic crap and have made definite confirmation that I no likey.
Hooked up with Deb
Fell completely in love with her and am now leaving my husband for her.

Speaking of Deb, her last post was about the weekend we spent together. And even though she trashed my hostessing ability, we never stopped laughing except to swig a drink or two (or a hundred). Who needs to eat full meals anyway?? She is on this fat-free diet and I was just supporting it. So there.

Deb was my first "friend" doing this bloggy thing. It was the hatred of aggressive birds that bonded us together. Since that, we have bonded with our shared love of our grandchildren, idiotic children, do-it-yourself home repairs, and now the hole-in-the-wall bar.

I was sweating bullets thinking I was going to have to do the whole tour guide thing, taking her to museums, art displays, symphony productions, and all the other great activities Big D has to offer. When she mentioned she had no desire to do all that intellectual stimulating stuff, I cannot tell you how relieved I was. She was more than happy to just hang out at the misspelled local hangout Kountry Nites.

She was the Belle of the proverbial Ball at this home-away-from-home Dive (which just FYI used to be called Scandals). Her first night there, the bartenders and her were on a first name basis and she made them feel all important by ordering fancy smancy drinks like Lemon Drops and Chocolate Cake shots. She was able to show off her sharky pool moves and great dancing abilities, making me look like I hang out with extremely cool people.

My friends LOVED her and, even as we speak, she and Niki are, I am almost positive, texting each other. (Only because I never have a freakin' signal. Effing TMobile. I am sure they would totally not be leaving me out for any other reason...) There's nothing like having an entire gang of people you love laughing at and making fun of you. Seriously. It's so much fun. (Asses. All of you.)

We have already made plans to reunite ASAP and continue the badgering and poking, which after the first night they slammed me for being all "high-maintenance, snooty, prissy, graceful, etc., etc.", just became droning. They think they are hilarious though, and being the great friend I am, gave them all the ammunition they needed to have fun. Hell, if nothing else, I am accommodating.

I am so excited about getting back into the swing of blogging. I have missed you guys incredibly and cannot wait to catch up. Thank you so much for all the sweet comments about missing me. It makes my snooty prissy head all big.

And we all know here in Texas we like it big.

Drinks and Food, Anyone?

2009-05-06T06:56:00.003-05:00

As all of you know, I have never been accused or mistaken for a Domestic Goddess. I cook only because my family needs nourishment. I CAN cook, I just hate to.

I have tried watching Paula and Rachel, but I just get hungry, never really motivated to cook. Krista gave me an apron which I look totally HOTT in, but doesn't make food magically appear on the table.

I have started baby-stepping to do more than the usual hot dogs, tacos and spaghetti. I have graduated to actually doing more than throwing the frozen skillet meal in the skillet. I have found this website that makes me look FABULOUS!!!!!

It has recipes, how-to's, places to save your favorites, so it's like your personal cookbook. It has recipes for CHOCOLATE MARTINIs and other boozy drinks!!!!!! Enough said.

The meals are easy and fast and really good. They don't make me sweat or my hair frizz while preparing them, so all is well. My husband has commented that he has more energy and my kids are now doing great in school. I have no idea what they are trying to tell me.

So head on over to myrecipes.com and be cool like me. And, no, they didn't pay anything to say this. I asked for a personal chef, but he hasn't arrived yet.When he gets here, I am almost postive he will use myrecipes.com, too. Because he is not only going to be a supermodel for underwear, he will also be extremely intelligent. Okay, I am done rambling. GO!!! Click and find a good recipe to try tonight. Then call me when it's ready and I will head right over.

Adventures in Babysitting

2009-04-26T19:31:00.004-05:00

I am taking the nudge of Deb to write about my Adventures in Babysitting.

I had many babysitting jobs over my teenage years. I had jobs with the same 5 families, so I was certain I did something right.

I loved kids. I loved pretending it was my house and they were my kids. I cooked. I cleaned. I played games. I performed the Heimlich Maneuver on more than one occasion. I loved them. I was an extraordinary babysitter.

Until I sat for Chris.

Chris was the kind of 5 year old kid that they make horror pictures about. His entire purpose in life was to make everyone hope they never had a child like him.

He screamed when you told him no.

He cried when you made him go to bed.

He could scale the wall and hang in the 12 foot doorways and jump down on top of you when you were panicking and racing through the house looking for him.

He made Chuckie, Damien Omen 1, and Children of the Corn look like cherubs.

And he loved me.

I really was mean to him, telling him I would never come over again if he didn't stop:

1. picking his nose and eating it,

2. throwing the cat on the roof,

3. eating an entire box of macaroni uncooked and sprinkling the cheese powder all over his room

all in one night.

So when his mom called me to watch him for the ENTIRE weekend, it took some finagling. I finally said yes and arrived after school on Friday.

I entered their home and mom and dad said a hasty goodbye and fled the scene, leaving me standing there thinking I had just entered the Twilight Zone.

Chris was watching cartoons and didn't even acknowledge my presence. I normally would have been perturbed at his rudeness, but this calm behavior was actually a very nice change of pace for him.

I informed him I would make him dinner and made my way to the kitchen. I made frozen chicken strips and mac and cheese with green beans to even out the nutritious meal that any five year old boy would love. I called from the kitchen for him to come eat.

There was no response.

I made my way back into the living room to find it empty.

Okay, this brat was really working my last nerve. I called out for him and searched the entire house to find no demon child.

I went outside and called his name. He wasn't in the front yard or in the back. I was really beginning to panic.

This was way before cell phones and, mom and dad, escaping from reality, had left with no forwarding number. I was stuck. What the hell was I supposed to do? I took a deep breath and went back inside to get my thoughts together.

Then I did what every responsible teenager would do.

I sat down to eat.

I announced aloud every move I was making:

"Hmmm, I have no idea where Chris is. I sure wish he was here. Guess I will eat and hope he shows up. This chicken is GREAT! Mmmmm, the macaroni, PERFECT!!"

I went on for ten minutes, hoping somehow that creepy little bastard was listening and would eventually emerge.

Sure enough, just as I was washing off my plate, I turned to find him sitting at the table, helping himself to the feast.

"Oh, Chris, so glad you could join me! Where were you?"

"Hiding."

Oh, okay. Where were you hiding?"

"I can't tell you. Then I couldn't hide there anymore."

"Alrighty. If you hide again, I won't buy you any ice cream."

"What kind of ice cream?"

"Any kind you want."

And with that threat I was pretty confident, the weekend would go much smoother. Man, was I wrong.

That night he vanished two more times. I had locked all the doors, so I knew he was inside. The thought of him ingesting some poison or poking his eye out with some sharp object kept me looking in every nook and cranny all evening long.

Saturday and Sunday were the same. He would be at my side one second and the next- gone, not to be found for about an hour. After the fourth time of him hiding, I just enjoyed the peace and quiet, read some of mom's trashy vixen novels, and thought this was the easiest money I had ever made.

Sunday afternoon, when he hid again, I yelled, "Okay, fine! You aren't getting ice cream!" I heard a muffled "I don't even like ice cream!" So I followed the sound and found him under his bed hiding behind a giant stuffed dog. He was so still and trying to fake me out, so I just left him, pretending I hadn't seen him.

I read some more of mom's trashy novel and soon heard mom and dad pull into the driveway. I made my way back to his room and peeked under the bed. He had fallen asleep and I gingerly picked him up and placed him on his bed.

Mom and dad came in and asked how Chris had been over the weekend.

"Oh, it was like he wasn't even here. He was great!"

They paid me the cash wadded up in the tiny roll and I headed to my car. I was actually feeling a little bad for how little time I actually spent interacting with the kid. I waited until I was at the stop sign before I looked to see how much I had raked in for doing nothing all weekend.

I unrolled the green to find two tens. TWENTY DOLLARS? What was that, like .05 cents an hour?!

Okay, I officially didn't feel bad at all.

I should have left the little turd under the bed and made them look for him. AND taken her trashy novel I never finished.

Maybe I Should Have Home-Schooled

2009-04-20T06:24:00.010-05:00

I have to say I truly admire those parents that can homeschool their kids.

I am not one of those parents.

I know how important it is to keep them from the evils of all the unnecessary cursing, talking about sex, the influences of alcohol and drugs, the pressure to conform to a certain stigma. That's why they needed to be away from me. Just kidding, I don't do drugs and I barely drink.

Seriously, even with the huge girth I carry, my nerves are very thin and petite. The thought of having them here and trying to teach them something scholastic makes me hyperventilate. I totally suck at teaching them to clean their room and wash their plates off before they put them in the dishwasher. It's sad really.

Plus, as I have confessed before, I am a yeller. And now that I am aged, I refuse to be titled the name of the Walt Disney show where the yellow lab was shot by his owner. My daughter HAS made it to Nationals in Archery and that right there is reason enough to scare the crap out of me.

But recently I have wondered how much my kids have learned from their peers.

Claire is learning weird things from her weird friends and I hate it because this is a whole new venue for me. With seven kids, five being my very own, I have been through the drinking, sex, drugs, staying out past curfew, lying, flunking classes, and almost every other horrible "phase" ~~dumbass~~ kids go through. This strange unfamiliar issue of STRIVING to be depressed and the main goal being emotional and mental, along with physical pain is more than I can take. We have sought counseling with fairly good results. Plus many close friends and family members have been praying. Say and believe what you will, but I truly believe there is great power in asking for God's help. Things are looking up for her.

So on that solemn note, I will now take you by the hand and lead you to the less serious and funny side of my world.

Cooper, who at one point totally had his older brothers convinced that he might be less-than-manly because of his disinterest in any sport and love of reading, has entered the Testosterone Phase of life. I have had to bang on his bathroom door thinking he had passed out in there or was extremely constipated, only to have him slink out with towel in hand and lotion bottle on the counter. It was a shocker, to say the least. The boy doesn't use soap half the time, and soft skin, I am almost positive, is the furthest thing from his mind.

At this point I am thinking he would have never learned the lotion trick if I had homes-chooled.

So I have concluded that he is growing up. I am a nurse and know all that is natural, but honestly I am almost dumbfounded. My older boys never let on that they were normal at that age. It wasn't until they were late teens before I found the porns and magazines and other grotesque things that have horifically burned their image in my mind.

It all started to become last week when I went upstairs to ~~make sure the brat was really in bed and not still up playing~~ kiss him goodnight. When I opened the door, he immediately shoved something under the covers and poorly acted like he was about to turn the lamp off. I went over, acting calm and cool and covered him up, flinging the comforter back to adjust the sheet when I saw the book. It was Claire's "Becoming a Woman" book. I said calmly, "Why are you reading this?" and he says, (this part cracks me up even now)"Hmm. What IS that book? I must have grabbed the wrong one." I just smiled and kissed my man-child goodnight.

The cartoon characters with their "buds" and wisps of pubic hair were drawn very simpistically and innocently. I breathed a sigh of relief thinking he was good with that image and that it brought some satisfaction to his hormonal needs.

Two days later, Cooper and Rick are outside with our landscape guy and apparently doing some male bonding.. There was laughter and slapping of the knees and as I walked past the window, I smiled and got a little teary thinking my baby was growing up and fitting in with the "boys".

Later that night, Rick said, "Do you know what Coop said tonight to me and Jared?" He began to tell me how somehow the conversation had made a turn to "heavy girls". Out of the blue Cooper says, "That's more cushion for the pushin'!" Both men were shocked that out of the mouth of this twelve year old kid, came such phrasing.
"Where did you learn that? Who told you that?" Rick was horrified.
"I heard it on the bus."
"Do you even know what that means?!"
"Yeah. The fatter they are, the harder they fall when you push 'em."

Thank God he knows the real truth. I hate to be pushed.

I Am So Lucky

2009-04-17T06:32:00.002-05:00

Okay, I am doing The husband Meme (or would that be himhim?) that I stole from Georgie . The first part are my answers. The second group is his answers. And since I can't keep my mouth shut, I commented in parentheses on those, too.

1. What is something your husband always says to you? "I love you" and "My knees, back, feet, hips* are killing me" (*insert any body part here)

2. What makes your husband happy? Our kids/grandkids (not asking for money)

3. What makes your husband sad? Not being able to build a commune for all our kids/families to live together.

4. What was your husband like as a teen? Very athletic with a giant fro

5. How old is your husband ? 51

6. How tall is your husband ? 5'10"

7. What is his favorite thing to do? Vacationing with our family/sleeping late/no phone calls

8. What does your hubby do when you're not around? Surf the Internet and watch Transformers 984 times

9. If your husband becomes famous, what will it be for? putting 7 kids through college and being able to sleep standing up, like a horse.

10. What is your husband really good at? Business/money issues and being seriously the kindest man I know.

11. What is your husband not really good at? letting me forget what something costs/cooking

12. What does your husband do for a job? Owns Hardwood flooring co. and home builder

13. What is your husbands favorite food? Steak-medium rare

14. What makes you proud of your husband? How big his heart is. I know you were thinking I was going to say something else, you sicko.

15. If your husband were a cartoon character, who would he be? Shaggy

This is the way he answered them:

1.What is something your husband always says to you? "I love you" and "Show me the money" (along with "I am the luckiest man on earth". What?!)

2. What makes your husband happy? Coming home (and having dinner on the table-preferably made by someone other than me)

3. What makes your husband sad? When the kids aren't not doing well. (and when he can't buy me furs and diamonds. Right, honey? Honey?!)

4. What was your husband like as a teen? Studly athletic dork. (OMG, have I told you he had like a 10 inch in diameter fro?)

5. How old is your husband ? 106 (only when he complains like my great grandmother Bentley)

6. How tall is your husband ? 5ft 10 (of solid hunk)

7. What is his favorite thing to do? Play (is he six?)

8. What does your hubby do when you're not around? Cleans the house (while surfing the internet)

9. If your husband becomes famous, what will it be for? Playing baseball/Building our dream home (He is really ARod, but I didn't want to brag)

10. What is your husband really good at? Loving my family and working as hard as I can for them. (I waited and he never said it aloud, but we all know what he was thinking...)

11. What is your husband not very good at? decorating (a- to the -men)

12. What does your husband do for a job? Manage idiots. Hardwood floors/build houses (He is serious. They really are idiots at times.)

13. What is your husband favorite food? Steak

14. What makes you proud of your husband? Loving my family and working hard (True, even if he already said that line)

15. If your husband were a cartoon character, who would he be? Goofy (only after 3 beers)

Sorry, he is taken, people. Pinch me.

I Might Be A Red Head

2009-04-16T06:12:00.002-05:00

~~Two people~~ The masses have spoken.

The crowds have gathered and ~~both~~ all of you who have asked me to post something have been heard.

I finally had something happen blog-worthy that did not involve whining about about all the stress work and my kids are putting me under. (You know I HAD to slip it in somewhere)

I might need a tan.

These things have actually happened to me over the last 3 days to prove, once again, I am almost an albino.

1. Easter Sunday my 14 year old daughter asked me when white hose came back into style. I wasn't wearing hose.
2. I dropped a dollop of Cool Whip on my leg and it took me 10 minutes to find it.
3. I put on white lotion on my calves and it looked bronze compared to my skin.
4. I go for the ashey look because it makes me look darker.
5. I told a guy I was part Indian and I think I heard him say, "What, you like to play Bingo, drink a lot, or instead of saying 'corn' you say 'my people call it maize'"?

Being the chubby red-headed freckle-faced kid jokes were made about, I have needed a tan for almost 44 years now. Even as a lifeguard for a summer at camp, the only pigment besides BRIGHT RED I had was freckles. Blended together in a mass, if you hold your head just right and squint your eyes, I look kinda brown. Or look like like I am wearing a brown shawl on my shoulders. Either way...

I have tried tanning beds. All I got from those damn things was hot and sweaty and some rash from the excellerant that the ~~bitch~~ girl behind the counter suggested.

I have tried spray-on tans. That worked. For 2 days. And cost 30 buckaroonies. Every 2 days. Times 5 months. NOT going to happen.

I have tried tanning creams. I have done the streaks, the orange glow, the dark elbows and in between each finger. I just can't pull off the look. Plus the smell makes me gag. And it is very hard work to put it even all over the mass I have. I am seriously exhausted afterwards. But I have found one that is VERY light so if there's streaks, you really can't tell. Except on my palms if I forget to wash my hands. PRESSURE, people. It's just too much.

But I will muster the strength to do it, just so I will not cause people to put their sunglasses on while showing them my new shoes.

I will just have to remember to wear pants if I sit with another terminal patient. I think my legs are throwing them off with the whole "go towards the light" thing.

I Will Never Eat At Pam's House

2009-04-07T06:23:00.001-05:00

This is a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the ~~guilty~~ innocent.

The week had been the hardest Pam had had in a very long time. Keeping children at her home had gotten the best of her. The remodeling of her home had caused the chaos to overwhelm her. She was exhausted physically as well as mentally. She needed a break.

She called her husband as he left the office to ask if they could go out for dinner. He informed her the budget wouldn't allow it. "Don't we have chicken or something in the freezer?"

She hung up the phone and the rage began to rise, first in her stomach, then in her throat. She jerked the freezer door opened and pulled the chicken out. The innocent frozen bird found itself in the clutches of a mad white woman.

The first smash of the bird against the counter was deafening and brought little peace to Pam. The second and third swing began to calm her some as tiny shards of frozen chicken began to become airborne. As she slammed the meat repeatedly, pieces of the victim stuck to the walls and windows and chunks landed with thuds bringing a calmness to Pam that she hadn't felt in weeks.

When nothing was left of the poor chicken, Pam raised her head and looked around. Her kitchen resembled an explosion aftermath. As she slowly glanced around the room to see the remnants of her rage, her eyes fell on the clock that hung on the wall over the table. Her stingy uncaring husband would be home in 25 minutes. The fit she threw had taken 12 minutes. Twelve minutes to totally dismember a frozen 2.2 pound clucker. She now believed she really could lift a car off a child if someone made her angry.

She smoothed her hair down after wiping the ice and shredded chicken parts off her hands and reached for the stainless pot inside the cabinet. Salmonella dripped from every inch of her large country kitchen, but she didn't seem to mind.

She began to hum as she gathered all the shards and placed them delicately into the pot, not bothering to wipe them off, and walked towards the sink. She looked down at her progress and smiled as the pot was almost half full of dirty chunks. The water was coming to a boil as that frugal man she married 17 years earlier walked through the door. She had already started two side dishes as came up to her to kiss her hello, just like he had every day he came home.

He didn't notice she didn't touch the meat as they ate together in silence. Her selflessness just allowed more for him. They smiled at one another, hers lasting just a bit longer than usual.
***********************************************************************************

I love "Pam" and want to thank her for great fodder and for allowing me to share it with the world. We are calling for pizza next time I visit, just FYI.

Picture Perfect

2009-04-06T06:19:00.002-05:00

Now for your viewing pleasure:

Kaydin Jo and Grayson hamming it up for GiGi.

Grayson making Kaydi Jo scream as he loves on her.

All the great goodies I won from Bink. They are all soap, besides the udder cream. I have the smoothest udders in Texas now thanks to her. And I didn't read the "soap" label and drove to Houston all (what I thought was) moisturized up and smelling good. An hour and a half into the trip, my legs and arms began to burn once I started to sweat and I worked up a good lather . Note to self: read the dang label next time, Brainiac!

That hunk of a bald man, Jay sent me this t-shirt and a pin from his shaving escapade, probably just to make sure I didn't put the picture of his hand showing his thumb on the blog. Thank you, Jay. And don't worry, your secret is safe with me.

I spent the day with Claire and her friends at the track meet. Track meets are my ultimate favorite hang-outs, with a root canal with no Novocaine running a close second . Especially when the wind blows 739 mph and there is nowhere to sit. Fun fun fun!!!

Saturday, March 28th, was this perfect adorable angel's FIRST birthday.

She ate her cake and went into a sugar coma.

Kalee and Birthday Princess before the party. And yes, that's a Tylenol bottle she is teething on.

Perfection with sugar on top.

My mommy made me this Birthday Princess t-shirt, tutu, and ginormous bow.

Grayson is now officially Spiderman. And spiders cannot look into the camera when the sun is shining. After the day went on, Kalee asked for kiss.

"Spiderman doesn't kiss grils." And that IS grils, not girls. That's official spider pronunciation.

They are supposed to pour the decking and the foundation for the garage Tuesday. We will see. It has rained every day they plan on coming to work, then too wet to come afterwards. I am going insane looking at the unfinished mess in my backyard. Plus, my pool guys so far have NOT been hotties. I think I should get a discount.

The Sleep Over is planned for the first weekend in Oct. More details will follow. Maybe the pool will be finished by then. Maybe.

It's A Little Known Fact

2009-04-02T07:34:00.003-05:00

It takes your food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach.

One human hair can support 3 kg (6.6 lb).

The average man's penis is three times the length of his thumb.

Human thighbones are stronger than concrete.

A woman's heart beats faster than a man's.

There are about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet.

Women blink twice as often as men.

The average person's skin weighs twice as much as the brain.

Your body uses 300 muscles to balance itself when you are standing still.

If saliva cannot dissolve something, you cannot taste it.

Women reading this will be finished now.

Men are still busy checking their thumbs.

****************************************
Have much more to tell you later. Pictures to follow. And no, Jay, I am not talking about the one of your thumb.

Employer Benefits

2009-03-27T09:13:00.003-05:00

As an employer, I go through many resumes. Below is one I wish for:

Resimay
To hoom it mae cunsern,
I waunt to apply for the job what I saw in the paper.I can Type realee quik wit one finggar and do sum a counting..I think I am good on the phone and I no I am a pepole person,Pepole really seam to respondto me well. Certain men and all the ladies.I no my spelling is not to good but fi nd that I Offen can get a job thru my persinalety.My salerery is open so we can discus wat you want to pay me and wat you think that I am werth,I can start emeditely. Thank you in advanse fore yore anser.hopifuly Yore best aplicant so farr.
Sinseerly,
BRYANPS :
Because my resimay is a bit short - below is a pickture of me.

My response:
Dear Bryan,

It's OK honey, we've got spell check. See you Monday.

P.S. Do you herd goats?

Pretend You Are Me

2009-03-24T07:57:00.003-05:00

Let's play-like you are me.

To be a Home Health RN JUST.LIKE.ME here in BFE, you must be willing to:

Go to homes with the concept you are going to give incredible care to your homebound patients.

Travel the backroads to GET to some of those homes WAY OUT in the country.

Depend on your navigation system to get you lost OVER and OVER and hear "Recalculating" about 28 times in a 5 mile stretch.

Arrive at your first home to find the caregiver outside motioning in panic.

Jump out with bag in hand ready to save the day.

Realize caregiver is headed BEHIND the house and wonder WTH is my bedbound patient doing BEHIND the house...

Hear your patient's caregiver say, "I need you to help me round up these kids."

Be prepared to talk in your authoratative voice to do said "rounding" for apparent disruptive "kids".

Realize it is THESE kind of kids, not the two-legged kind.

Get more exercise in 5 minutes than you have had in months, waving your arms and doing some football moves.

Go to your NEXT patient's house in town and breathe a sigh of relief you will not have any further goat-herding to do that day.

Enter the house to see this:

Realize you must have been absent on the day you were instructed in "livestock care" in nursing school.

Rethink this whole nursing career thing...

I know you are green with envy. Or maybe that's baby chick poop...

Spring Fever

2009-03-18T07:41:00.000-05:00

It was 82 degrees here yesterday. It was barely above freezing Saturday.

Welcome to Texas.

I love spring. I love fall. I hate heat over 90 and cold under 50. And since I can't live in San Diego, I will always be gripey because of the weather.

The spring brings:
Spring cleaning
Shaving my thighs
Pedicures
Planting flowers
Going in search of the total body swimsuit that has yet to be invented.
Vats of sunblocks
Vats of bug spray
Vats of wine

And my sick patients suddenly become well. They have the same spring fever the rest of us have and want to have less visits, which means, well, you know...less money. Hello, sick patients....Do you have any idea how expensive vats of wine are?!

Speaking of patients:
Nurse arrives to check on patient with Diabetes. This patient has to have insulin and we provided him with a sharps container to dispose his used syringes in. When done adminstering the insulin, the nurse turns to find the sharps container was full.

Of COOKIES.

THAT my friends, is being green to the bone.

YEA!!! He needs more education, which means more visits!!!!!!

Liquor store, here I come. I wonder if they sell razors there? My thigh hairs could be braided.

What the heck has been going on, you ask...

2009-03-16T07:01:00.005-05:00

It's Monday and I am completely spent emotionally. Tiny silly things are throwing me into huge fits of hysteric laughter. Small insignificant things are bringing me to tears. And yet the drama has spread and all SEVEN of my kids have major issues going on. My niece is just the cherry on top. Bring me a straitjacket.

My MIL has been with us all week due to some home maintenance issues at her house. Bring me Xanax.

I have decided that life goes on, I love to laugh MUCH more than I love to cry, and I can only do so much and asking for help is okay. Plus I have lost 13 pounds. Without exercise. Stress does that. trust me I would rather be fat than deal with what I am dealing with.

The Young 'uns are at their dad's house for three more days and our weekend guests have left. That means dear hubby and I have to speak to complete sentences to one another and I have no one to blame for the dishes stacking up and the supper not being made. (dammit)

Now for the silver lining in my gray cloud.

They started on our pool last week and had it dug and poured before the torrential down pour that lasted three days occurred. So now my lovely cement pond is half full of lime green radio active water or something I am sure that is just as dramatic.

The soil around here in these parts is clay. Brown snotty slimey clay. The kind of clay when wet sticks to your feet and you start the day being 5 ft 5 inches and by the end of the day are close to 8 feet tall. So I have mounds of brown snot/slime surrounding the side and back of my house. Right in my ~~stupid mother effin'~~ dog's poop/pee zone. So, I have to weigh whether I want to clean up pee and poop inside or brown snotty slime of his wet smelly legs if I let him out to do his bizness ~~or just shoot him~~ because he isn't smart enough to go to the other side of the yard.

Now, I have been anticipating this pool for TWO summers and something always comes up and the pool is pushed to the bottom of the list. So this year when the budget came through and I was told by Rick that we could do it, I wasted NO time. Literally. Poor unsuspecting Pool Man was down the street and I walked (yes, I was THAT excited) down and told him to give me his plan book. I was rather bossy and snippy, but he was obliging and completely understood my race to get the hole dug before Rick could change his mind. So I chose a plan, got the quote, fought a little bit on the price and told them to come dig. The backhoe tractor rig showed up less than 2 hours later. And the hole was dug.

Then I decided it was too close to the house.

That white thing is a paper plate. That gray step is our existing patio. So my pool is only 10 paper plates away from my patio edge.

But a too-close-to-the-house-pool is a pool and I was scared that if I made them change it, it would be another summer before I had my ~~summer babysitter~~ pool. So you can't sleep walk at my house or you will walk 14 feet in my backyard and land in the pool, which at this moment is filled with lime jello and which will probably eat your epidermis off.

So my life is crashing around me with my kids all out of whack, but dammit, I am getting a pool.

Bring on the chaise lounges and Mai Tais. Pass me the 45 sunblock and my wide brimmed hat. It will be time to party soon.

Clear your calendar in September for our sleepover. The dates will be decided on soon. We are giving Jay a makeover. Hee hee.

And tomorrow Dana will have a video on the toy she just received. Hee hee.

Now add this fortune cookie to your next post and see where it ends up. No linking required. Just copy as a picture and get down with your bad self.

I am Changing My Name To Jerry Springer

2009-03-09T10:00:00.000-05:00

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.

I have decided to transform my garage to a TV studio. The lights and chairs are in place and the audience is restless. The burly bodyguards have been hired are are waiting in the sidelines.

Enter this Saga's stars: my sister, Lizzie(Mom of the Year), my niece(Smartest 15 year old on earth), countless horny bastards, worthless state and city employees, and Me(the current reigning Heartless Bitch).

Let's review a tad:
August 08: My niece decided to move out because she had the choice to follow the rules and quit sneaking out to have sex or move out. Simple enough. She chose to move out because, like most 15 year olds, she is so much smarter than adults.

Oct 08: I get a letter from said niece begging to come back because her mom is making her go to school and work. She now hates her mom (again). I said no.

Dec 08: Repeated calls/texts from niece saying she has changed and will follow rules. I make heart-wrenching decision to stick to my guns and continue to say no, explaining I cannot put MY kids thru this.

Jan 09: Receive call from Lizzie saying I need to take Britt back because she is done being a mom. Three days later I receive call saying niece is pregnant.

Feb 09: Spent a month finding niece a place to stay/advising her to give baby up for adoption. She refuses saying she is never going to do either one because she can take care of herself. Still wants me to take her back because "she can take care of herself". My sister moves to Washington state and leaves her daughter homeless and her Mother of the Year crown in storage.

Mar 6th, 2009: Niece arrives in my town saying she is here and wants to move back in. I say "hell to the no" again. I spend the entire weekend being a prisoner in my own home until my security guy can come and talking with the police. She had sent a text to my daughter telling her to steal money and a phone from us. The police tell me they cannot do anything. CPS cannot do anything because they don't know where she is.

Cue the chorus of "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!"

I will be signing autographs after the show.

Stay tuned.

I Have Been Telling You For Years, Kid

2009-03-06T06:33:00.000-06:00

OMG, my kids are going to read this and say, "WHAT THE?"

I have been telling my kids for 24 and a half years now I hold this title. Now here is the proof. My precious, apparently psycho, friend Em at Life, Liberty and the Pursuit granted me this beautiful award. Thank you, dear Em. (Next time we go out, please order more than crab cakes. You make me feel like a cow.)

Okay, here are the rules (and everyone knows how I LOVE rules):

1. Admit ONE thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you've written it down, you are NO LONGER allowed to feel bad. It's over with, it's in the past. Remember, you're a great mom!!

The one thing negative that comes to mind is i feel bad because I refuse to clean up after them and they make me scream because screaming is so much easier than cleaning. I don't feel bad for making them clean. I just feel rotten when I lose it and sling spit when I am having the meltdown. For about 10 seconds. Then I feel bad because I really don't feel all that bad. What was the question?

2. To remind yourself that you ARE a good mom, list SEVEN things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself of EVERY DAY that you rock!

1. I love that my kids are all so funny. They crack me up. Literally. I am cracked.

2. I love that my older boys are proud of the fact they are Momma's boys and brag to their friends about it. (plus it's easier to hand over cash to someone who is bragging, "Yeah, that's right, I'm a Momma's boy!")

3. I love watching my kids interact with one another, telling stories and sharing memories. (NOT the interaction of fighting. They are good at that, as well.)

4. I love that my kids kid me about not being able to cook. No culinary expectations are really a good thing. I really love it when my youngest says to me, "This meatloaf is better than dad's." I know he's a smoozer, but I still love the compliment.

5. I love to travel with my kids. They are so appreciative and seriously do not ask for much. It is a true joy to give them opportunities they have never experienced. They take nothing for granted and I love that about them.

6. I love that my kids all kiss me hello and goodbye. Even my too-cool almost-14 year old daughter. She is even known to tell me I am beautiful without expecting a handout.

7. I love that my kids can all take a joke. None of them have thin skin, and I find no greater joy than laughing with them. They can all laugh at themselves and making fun of one another is seldom an issue since we all make fun of ourselves. It works for us. Their friends have often said there is never any drama or fighting at our house because no one can stay mad at one another because someone always makes them laugh. I tell them individually that they are my favorite and not to tell their siblings. They all know I do it to each kid, because no one can keep a secret.

3. Hand out this beauty to deserving Moms and Dads (who don't mind being called "MOM" at times).

Again, you know I am lazy and I am just assigning it to everyone, male or female, who reads this. It's a GREAT subject to post about and I truly believe some of us are looking for some boosts in post ideas.

Update: My niece is who-knows where. Her mother, whom we have divorced and no longer consider our sister, moved to Washington and left her. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers. I will try to keep you as updated as I can.

Dancing Queen

2009-03-02T06:02:00.002-06:00

Saturday night went almost as expected.

Lots of beautiful women. Like Em and Kristin.

And Shauna and Holly and yet another gorgeous blogger who I was introduced to between glasses of wine and want to call Chardonnay. (please forgive for not remembering your name!!)

And beauties Elaine and Nicole who sat with us and somehow escaped my wonderful photography.

And Jay. The most beautiful of all blogger women there.

We giggled and snotted and even peed a little.

And more than one of us declared our undying love for him and his 25% masculinity.

Or asked to borrow his hair gel.

I nervously declare my infatuation with the tallest lesbian at the dinner.

Look below the proudly displayed name card (made by Leslie) at the lettuce wraps.

This manly feast was ordered by ~~HeMan~~ ~~Nancy~~ Jay.

This is what I ordered.

Some of us were receiving texts from all those who know me so well, such as:

Is Jill stripping yet? NO

Are you dancing on tables yet? NO

Are you talking about me? YES

I kept Jay's balls in my purse for him until the end of the night.

As soon I gave them back, this is what happened.

And he said he couldn't dance...

Update

2009-02-28T12:49:00.003-06:00

I have had (AGAIN) a week of complete turmoil and chaos. I haven't had time to check my emails, read my blogs, or post. I pop on today to find that 3 of my buddies are done with blogging. I totally get their reasoning. I totally feel their pain.

Tonight I get to meet up with group of DFW bloggers and laugh and drink and possibly dance on a table or two. It is a much needed break from all the stress from this week.

Until the issue is resolved with my niece, I may be scarce in commenting, reading, and posting. I promise I am not leaving you, just need to do some things that make me not so fun to be around.

Don't talk about me behind my back.

Love you and I will post about all the things we get Jay to do tonight. I KNOW that will be funny!!!

One Act Play(er)

2009-02-23T06:06:00.001-06:00

This is based on a true story. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Setting: The hospital where Lill had worked for 3 years. She returns to visit with old co-workers and to market her current company.

Scene takes place on 2nd floor at the main desk. Hospital personnel milling around doing hospitally things.

Cast of characters:
Lill- has physically changed over 5 years since working in the hospital, gaining 20 lbs. RN who blogs.
Terrence- Respiratory Therapist of unknown origin
Many other extras in scrubs who have nothing to do with the story, but make it more realistic.

Ater much hugging and visiting/small talk, Lill approaches the doctor's area to see if she can score a referral. Goes in to find not a doctor in sight.

Lill turns to leave the room and runs into Terrence. Literally.

Lill: Oh. I am so sorry! Excuse me!
Terrence: No, I am sorry!

Lill tries to squeeze around this 6'2" man, but he holds out his hand.

Terrence: Don't I know you?
Lill: I used to work here about 5 years ago.
Terrence: No. No, that's not it. Have you worked doing other things?
Lill: I was a Hospice nurse.
Terrence: No, that's not it. I have seen you before.
Lill: I had a marketing company...
Terrence: No...
Lill: I give up. Where have you seen me?
Terrence: It has to be a mistake...
Lill turns to go.
Terrence: (snapping fingers) The internet!
Lill: (turning with an awkwardly cocked head) Well, yes. (pride swelling in head and a small amount in her chest)
Terrence: I knew it! I knew I had seen you! I can't believe you are here, standing right in front of me ! Oh my God!
Lill: (blushing slightly) I can't believe you read me!
Terrence: (throwing back head laughing) Oh, I don't read! I just look at the pictures! Girl, that site of your is hottt!
Lill: (Big cheesy grin falls to the floor) Wha?
Terrence: (suddenly realizing he just said the wrong thing) You don't have a site?
Lill: Yes, a blog.
Terrence: You're...you're (searching for name)
Lill: Lill Lill Bo Bill...
Terrence: No, that's not it.
Lill: No. that's it. Really. I know my own website.
Terrence: No I KNOW that I have never been on the porn site Lill Lill whatever.
(Cue screeching tires sound effect)

Lill turns and moves quickly down the hall to the stairwell where she hopes her 20 extra pounds will catapult her down two flights of stairs so the embarrassment of what just happened will stop.
Lill: (to herself with total disgust) Someone thinks I was in a porn!

As she begins her descent she suddenly has an epiphany.
Lill: (to herself, with excited) Someone thinks I was in a porn!

Scene fades with Lill skipping to car. (Cue music)

Say WHAT?!

2009-02-20T06:22:00.002-06:00

A text you DO NOT want to receive from your 20 year old son who is off at college, not sure that school is right for him:
Him: Is Curtis still a homicide detective?
Me: Yes WHY?!
Him: (10 minutes later) LOL!! I was watching "first 48" and thought I saw him on there.
Me: Oh You scared me. LOL!

thirty minutes later

Him: Mom I think I know what I want to do with my life.
Me: What
Him: Homicide Detective
Me: Thank God you weren't watching "Queer Eye"

Something you don't want to hear your then 8 year old say after emeging from the Men's room at a roadside gas station during a road trip:
"Mom, can I have 50 cents?"
"What do you need 50 cents for?"
"There's a box on the wall in the restroom that says 'Lot's O' Fun'. So can I have 50 cents?"

*******************************************

My friend Ron suprised me with this wonderful drawing of my favorite three year old, Grayson.

He used this picture minus the pretzel and rainbow clown wig.

Ron can sing, draw write books, you name it. Check him out and if you whine a little, he may just draw you.

Just as long as he doesn't draw me in the blonde wig, I will continue to sing his praises.

He is so sweet and talented.

Thanks again, Ron!

"Mom, I'm Sick"

2009-02-19T07:30:00.005-06:00

I rushed home from work yesterday to check on my baby boy who stayed home from school with a sore throat, severe cough, and a bout of vomiting. He is 12 and had fallen back to sleep when I left. I was gone about four hours.

Below is what I came home to:

gallon of milk-left out and open

three of MY yogurts licked clean

75 packages of sweet N low opened

toaster out

empty bag of cereal

empty coffee pot

This is how I left the kitchen:

1/2 gallon of milk in fridge

8 pack of MY yogurt in fridge

75 pkts of sweet N low in their jar

toaster in cabinet

1/2 bag of cereal in pantry

12 cup coffee maker with ten cups left.

I am thinking unless he is running 107 degree temperature, vomiting pieces of his liver up, or on a ventilator, he is going to school.

A Day Late and A Dollar Short

2009-02-17T07:44:00.000-06:00

Much thanks to the ~~thousands~~ ~~hundreds~~ fifteen of you that decided to take my quiz and see how bad I had damaged your life. I thought it was pretty funny myself, but 2 of you thought in real life I am a bitch. And for the record, I really only have 7 kids. I can say "only" now thanks to Nadya Suleman. She makes 7 seem like an only child.

As you know I have joined the cult KMFBAG (see the cute pink box to the right there--->) and am dieting and working out. I told you that I would post a picture of me prior to the brainwashing and torture, but I am now thinking I will save it. I am officially the heavyweight contender here and just in case I cave and continue to gain weight, I may have to save that "before" picture for my "after" picture.

Yes, you read that correctly. I have GAINED weight this last week. I gained 2 pounds and haven't had the guts to climb on my wii for the weekly weigh in. So I will weigh when my kids aren't home so my language won't scar them.

I have eaten yogurt, cottage cheese and salads when in reality I wanted pudding, french fries, and lasagna. I have walked, done aerobics, and some yoga when in reality I wanted to sit, blog, and eat chips. I even started taking vitamins and calcium. I am really worrying myself. This new healthy lifestyle is making me all nervous and twitchy. Must be the cheesebuger withdrawals.

The DFW Blog dinner is the 28th, and if you live remotely nearby, I encourage you to make the trip. We have over 20 confirmations so far, and if you want to be a part of this get-together, the email is on my side bar under the heading of DFW peeps, or you can leave it in my comments and I will pass it along. Just confirm, because if I have to give up my reserved chair to you, things will get ugly. I will be jonesing for mashed potatoes by that time and I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

I will do my Tribute Tuesday tomorrow mainly because I am so weak with hunger that I can barely type. Or I am all pissy because I can't eat what I want. Either way, Tomorrow will be Tuesday for me.

If you haven't taken my quiz, look below and see how well you know me. Put it on your blog and have fun making up questions to test all of us. It's a free post so take advantage of my generosity. The next time we talk, I may eat your arm off.

I guess I will go choke down some almonds and pretend they are Pringles.

How Well Do You Know Me?

2009-02-16T10:00:00.000-06:00

This is test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test. Beeeeeeeeeeep.

I got this from Tena
and just had to share it. It copies on your post page really weird with lots of spaces, but if I knew what I was doing, it would probably be fixable. Since I don't, then you are stuck with spaces. So sorry. See how well you know me and then you can steal it for your next blog post.

How much time have you wasted on this blog and what has it gotten you?

How Many Brain Cells have You Killed By Getting to Know Me?
1) In Real life I am a(n)
		bitch
		stripper
		RN
		personal trainer

Make A Quiz - Take This Quiz - View Scoreboard

Laugh With Me

2009-02-14T15:59:00.002-06:00

This video was created by my son, Trevor's friends, Andi and Landon. They have graciously allowed me to share it with you. I have watched this over and over and have laughed hysterically each time. Landon has this incredibly cool computer with a camera that allows neato and groovy things to happen when you choose them. I now know what I will be asking for on my birthday. Enjoy!!!!

Original Video - More videos at TinyPic

My First

2009-02-13T06:01:00.002-06:00

My lucky friend with dirty socks, Deb, is all alone this weekend with her calm adorable child and needs some entertainment. So she is asking for reading material in the form of our first post, ~~mainly so she can ridicule and laugh at our lameness~~ so she can pass the time and not miss her husband ~~who should at least put the damn glass in her cabinet for leaving her alone on V Day~~. So, because I am such a great friend and love her so much ~~not to mention the fact she is paying me 20 bucks,~~ I am offering myself up on a silver plated platter and totally exposing myself.

I think I originally had 2 comments. I also told way too much mundane info, thinking my sister, Amy, would be the only person that would ever read it. These days I just post way too much mundane info so you all can read it and feel better about yourselves.

This post was originally written on July 16, 2008. Actually it wasn't my very first. That one was very short and meaningless, not unlike my OTHER first.

Drum roll, please...

I will begin my blog life with a little H&P (that's history and physical for all my non-medical peeps).

I am the oldest of 4 girls, (hence the control & peace-maker issues I have) born and raised in a small town in the panhandle of TX. We are a freakishly close-knit family, all up in each other's biznez, and have had some major changes over the last 3 yrs. in chronological order:

First: Sister #3 (I am #1), who, for some ungodly reason has always proudly labeled herself "the black sheep of the family,"decided that after having 4 kids, she was done being a mom, and gave them all away. I mean she didn't like set up a lemonade stand and sit on a neighborhood corner and give them away as a door prize with a large glass, but called our mom, that I will call Big Mama, to come get them.

I would go into a thirty minute dissertation trying to explain away the turmoil her THIRD divorce must have put her thru, but bottom line: drugs+alcohol+kids=no fun. So she did what every responsible alcoholic junkie would do and stopped. Being a mom, that is.

So, embittered as I may sound, I have come to accept that the upper-class-cush life she had as a child with loving parents and very cute sisters could not compare with the roach-infested hole she can now call home. I am raising her 2nd oldest, 15 yr old daughter, B, now going on 3 years. The others are with their bio. fathers. The oldest, that lived with my mom moved out on her own.

Second major change: This past Jan 5th, my daddy passed away with a sudden heart attack. We are still reeling with the devastation. He was the funniest man I have ever known and you will see many of his famous sayings thrown into all my stories. I miss him so incredibly much and have moments of hysterical laughter talking about him that sometimes end in a sobfest. But it's good.

So Big Mama, Amy(#2), and Erin(#4) and myself are all trying to live each other's lives and tell each other other what to do without two main components in the equation.

That's the History 1 Part. Stay tuned for History 2. I promise even more humor-laced bitterness as I tell you about my ex....Here's a teaser....

preacher/glass houses/rocks 'Nuff said. For today......this blogging stuff is exhausting.

Alright, I know you are chomping at the bit and are dying to know exactly what Part 2 says, so I will put it here for you. Divert your eyes if you are feeling nauseous, bored, or could not care less.

OK in a nutshell: Married for 10 years and spouse decides to become a preacher. ( Yes, I was voted most unlikely to become a preacher's wife in high school) Moves us 400 miles south to the middle of nowhere and in the middle of my third semester of RN school decides he doesn't want to married to me anymore.

OOOKEEEE.

Now for the good stuff: the products of the 19 yrs: Kalee, the oldest and the original Diva; John David, who is undoubtedly the most laid back human alive; and Trevor, the Original Baby. We adopted Claire and her brother Cooper when they were 17 months and 5 weeks respectively.

Then there were 5...

I met the right Mr. while I was taking care of his ill father in the hospital during my fun-filled divorce. He asked me out for coffee (which everyone knows flows rampantly on the med/surg floor of the hospital and was a pretty lame pick up line all in all). So, totally liquored-up on 18 cups of full-strength Folger's, I said in my outside voice, "I have FIVE kids." There, I said it. Run, boy, run. "Yes, I know," he responded oh-so-gaggingly-sweet.

Sooo, 10 months later, all 6 of us married him.

Then we all went on our honeymoon to Breckenridge to ski. Except me. I mean I went, but I didn't (and don't) ski. I instead studied for the f'n boards like the good little graduate nurse I was. Then I got trashed and the Mr. and I snuck out and stayed in the next door neighbor's cabin after they told us they were leaving early to beat the snow storm that was rolling in.

It was wickedly fun (and loud). We snuck back before sunrise (mainly because I woke up panicking that the maid might come to clean the "empty" cabin at 5am and catch us there) and all 8 were none the wiser that we were rockin' the cabin next door. HA! SUCKAS!!

I had finally found The One that was totally and completely in love with me and thought I was the f'n BOMB.

Life is good...

My Wife Is Cwazy

2009-02-12T10:16:00.002-06:00

This week, like many others has been crazy and I apologize for the absence in both posting and commenting. I started my diet/exercise torture and Monday barely made it through the deep breathing exercises of the Wii Fit Yoga. BTW, according to their calculations, I am apparently age 44 and borderline obese.

So with that ray of sunshine, I have begun my version of working out while trying to maintain a somewhat livable environment. I cleaned like a mad woman, vacuuming and mopping my hardwoods for four hours and almost took Andy to be euthanized because he ran into the house with muddy feet.

We have survived my husband's business audit and do not have to move into a refrigerator box under the local overpass. That in itself is worth falling on my face and crying my wails of thanks and praise because God knows how much I hate camping out because of the whole peeing-in-buckets aversion I have.

Claire turns 14 next month and has evolved into this beautiful, yet obnoxious human. I felt obliged to sit her down and inform her, "This ain't my first rodeo, sister. I know what you are thinking, what you are doing, and you cannot outsmart me," to which she replied, with finger raised, " It's 'This ISN'T your first rodeo'." Stay tuned for live footage of Mom's head blowing off her shoulders.

Speaking of footage, I will soon be posting a before picture me from Sun when I was borderline obese. I am sure by now I am centerfold ready. It HAS been four days, people. I am sore in places that I didn't even know had muscles. This could be from either working out or playing cars with Grayson, my 3 year old grandson, all weekend.

I will leave you with some sayings courtesy of Grayson, or Gwayson, as he says it:

After being disciplined by his mommy and told to stop throwing his toys in the air, he replies, "Fine. And I don't even wike your hair." That should keep mom from ever telling him "no" again.

At my mom's house, she has a basket with ceramic and reed spheres on her coffee table. Baby Kaydi Jo was helping herself to them, tasting and gumming them to her big brother's horror. So in desperation to undoubtedly save his sister, Grayson calls out, "MaMa!! Kaydi Jo is wickin' your balls!" One day he, too, will find this as funny as we do, I am sure.

On that note, I weally weally need to go workout. Cwap.

Water, Gator.

2009-02-09T11:30:00.001-06:00

Today is busy with lots of loose ends to tie up. First and foremost, we celebrated with Tuesday Whitt's family on Saturday and went on a virtual "wagie ride" joining Em and Lee and countless others.

Secondly, here is my next project:

I am starting my workout/diet and am ~~wondering how long it takes me to throw in the towel~~ so excited about joining Tena. She wants me to take pictures to hold myself accountable. She is sooo funny! No, I really would take a picture, but I have my grandbaby today and don't want to scar him. So the pix will come later.

Speaking of pictures, look below for some moments of "WHA?"

Just because I am always amazed at the fashion at the Award Shows, I flew there to get the live scoop on these people. Really. Then I gave the pictures to the AP. And to prove it, here are some unknown facts from behind the scenes, just in case you missed them:

"Hey can someone hand me my pants? And don't make me laugh. I am about to pee all down my 7ft long legs."

Carrie "See My" Under~~wood~~ wear
(Yes, my fat thighs with cellulite and vericose veins are green. I mean look at her legs. hate her.)
Moving right along....
I had no idea Pirates Of the Caribbean's Davy Jones sang.

"Does this hairdo make my brain look fat?"

No, dear. Looking at your dress choice, you still have the skinniest brain in Hollywood.
Aphrodite called, you know the rest....

"Here, Joey, pucker your lips like this and a little shot of botox here and you can look just like me! Am I smiling?"

The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and ZZZZZZ

2009-02-05T06:39:00.001-06:00

After reading Deb's post on a Shuttle Driver's skills, it reminded me of a post that I had been meaning to write for 2 months now. Thanks to Deb's now oddly landscaped yard reminding me, I bring you this moment of complete insanity brought to you because of my children's school district's decision-making skills.

Dear EISD,

Thank you for finally removing the narcoleptic bus driver that held my children's lives in his sleepy hands in the quick fashion you did.

I realize 3 months may seem like a long time to some, and as a nurse who has worked ER, I completely understand the importance of remaining calm, cool, and collected. But for the love of God, CHILDREN'S LIVES WERE AT STAKE!

THREE MONTHS?

I know you may think I am just angry because I had to drive them to school AND pick them up, and to that I say, well, yeah, ok, THAT did piss me off. But my kids, who only shared with me the bus driver's "funny" driving skills of careening the bus into the car in front of him because he was asleep, were at least aware that such driving abilities were a bit out of the norm.

What about the other 40+ kids who never noticed Mr. Bus Driver was snoring or the spittle driping on his chin? My call to you BEFORE he had the multiple fender-benders, although verbalized as appreciated, was apparently poo-pooed away and passed off as another panicky mom butting in where she should not.

I will confess to enjoying multiple jokes being made in said bus driver's honor and having great material, such as, "I need a nap, I think I will go on a drive," or "Wake me up when the light turns green," as well as "I have driven this way so many times, I can do it with my eyes closed. Watch," but know I remain extremely miffed at you.

I am thinking you should add the question "Do you suffer from any illnesses that could impair your driving, such as narcolepsy?" to all future employee packets.

When the kids see this behind the wheel of the 6 ton yellow torpedo they will be traveling in to attend your school, we all have problems:

P.S. Your damn taxes are way too high.

Sincerely,

Bakery Transcriptionist Needed On Aisle 7

2009-02-04T06:33:00.002-06:00

I received this in an email. The assumed conversation went something like this:

Walmart worker: Bakery
Customer: I need to order a cake for a going away party.
Walmart worker: What do you want on it?
Customer: 'Best Wishes Suzanne,' underneath that, 'We will miss you'.

Below is what she received when she picked up the cake.

This would never have happened at Target.

Just Do It

2009-02-03T09:05:00.003-06:00

It's Tuesday. It's tribute time.

Nothing can be better than raising money for childhood cancer. Jay talks about what he is willing to do to raise this money. So, if you qualify under any of the following criteria, I ask you to donate.
1. You have a healthy child.
2. You know a healthy child.
3. You have a child who has been diagnosed with something besides a clean bill of health.
4. You know someone who has an ill child.
5. You have hair.
6. You don't have hair.
7. You feel good today.
8. You feel sick today.
9. You want to see childhood cancer gone. Forever.
10. You woke up this morning.

Go here and see what you can do and how you can make a difference. I thank you in advance.

It's A Smorgasboard of Worthless Crap

2009-02-02T09:00:00.000-06:00

The last four days have been crazy busy and today seems no different. So, to clean sweep my disorganized brain, I will give you a buffet of small tidbits to chew on until I can actually have a complete thought.

The Super Bowl was great. Commercials as a whole, not so much. My very favorite was careerbuilders.com with the "If you hate going to work everyday, and your co-workers don't respect you, you wish you were somewhere else, you cry constantly, you daydream of punching small animals, and you sit next to this guy, it's probably time." The lady behind the wheel screaming was modeled after me. I do that almost every morning.

I saw a lady pull up beside me at a red light with, and I SWEAR this is not a lie, had 16 stuffed animals lined up on her dashboard. One word: WHY

Michael Phelps smokes pot. Maybe I should be more disappointed. Maybe I should be shocked. But I am really neither. Proof that money cannot pay for good sense. Hey Michael, my 2 yr old grandson went as you for Halloween. You are a dumbass. He wore a too tight swim cap because he idolized you. He said your name as one word "MichaelPhelps". Can't you hire someone to make sure people aren't taking your picture while you act like you are a 23 year old party animal? Maybe by 2012 I will have forgiven you. Maybe.

We went to visit the boys this weekend. John David is the cook at this steak place where the filet mignon literally melts in your mouth. I ate until I literally couldn't move. I had to lean the seat back just so I could breathe for the ride home. Then Rick thought for the next 2 hours he would poke my belly to be funny. After the 2nd time, I told him if he ever wanted to have sex again, he better stop. I am guessing the sight of me laid up with my pants unzipped, listening to me moan every time we hit a bump, and saying 284 times, "Ohhh, I ate too much," was NOT a turn-on since he didn't quit. Sometimes I think a married a 15 year old.

I read The Shack on Thursday. If you haven't read it-READ IT! If you have, how did it affect you? It was undoubtedly the best book I have ever read. I plan to read it again when my husband is done with it. It is that good.

The stupid groundhog saw his shadow and Spring will be here late. I vote we do away with Phil and his predictions. My friends who are still buried in snow and ice need some good news. So to help them out, I put Andy in a hole and when he dug himself out, he didn't see his shadow. WHOO HOO!!!!!!!! Eat that, Punxsutawney Phil. You have been replaced.

Why Do I Even Try?

2009-01-28T06:52:00.000-06:00

I burned soup.

How in the hell can someone burn soup?

I made chili Monday because, well, it was chilly outside. And since I did NOTHING but sit at my computer after I did wound care on ONE patient on Tuesday, I thought I would make something even warmer and yummier than Monday night.

So I scoured my pantry and found taco seasoning, a can of corn, a can of ranch-style beans, and a can of green chillies. I added the leftover chili meat and 17 gallons(approx) of water, and turned on the fire. (That's chef lingo: fire.)

Then I sat down with my computer. Soon the room was filled with the wonderful aroma of spicy tortilla soup. I could hear the bubbling of the soup simmering on the stove and I inwardly patted myself on the back for being so dern domestic. Soon the botched cinnamon rolls would be a distant memory. Soon I would be hailed as Domestic Goddess Extraordinaire and have my own cooking show. What would I wear? How should I do my hair?

Then the sound of simmering got louder and louder, reminding me that indeed my family would be so impressed to walk into the house with supper ready to be consumed. Then it hit me. You probably shouldn't hear your soup cooking.

Upon closer inspection, which required me getting off my laurels, I see meat in the pan. So with cat-like reflexes, I filled the pan with water and stirred.

And sort of scraped a little.

And up floated little black pieces that I could only assume were the charred remains of the chili that had the unfortunate luck of being on the BOTTOM.

What would Paula do in this situation? Martha and Rachel would fix this how?

So I did what every good connoisseur of fine delicacies would do.

I told the family we were eating Blackened Tortilla Soup. Sold at only the finest restaurants for $75 a bowl. Cheese and Chips sold separately.

Facebook, I Salute You

2009-01-27T09:54:00.000-06:00

For your daily finger exercises, click here and visit Dana as she reveals all in her interview. Then click here to see all the FAB-U-LOUS prizes you can win just by entering Mom it Forward's contest. Carissa and Jyl have worked their hineys off to get this site up and going and would love all our support. I am talking computers, printers, software, soundtracks, PEOPLE!

Now for Tuesday's Tribute. I am focusing this week on dear old Facebook. Over the last month, I have been able to reunite with thousands of my high school friends. Okay, hundreds. OKAY, some of my high school buddies.

Yesterday I heard from my oldest friend whom I love so much that I named my eldest son after him. But he didn't contact me on Facebook. He called me. This is the man that graduated Valedictorian and graduated from Vanderbilt University Law School. The guy who, when he told me he was going to Vanderbilt, I said, "OMG! I LOVE their jeans!" Yeah... I know. I am shocked, too that I didn't receive a scholastic scholarship. But who had a Facebook? Not him. Now who is the cool smart one?

We grew up together, our parents being great friends. We both had red hair and people always thought we were brother and sister. And at 7 years old, we discovered we both had a mole on our right forearm in the same exact place and decided we really WERE related and separated at birth. I was the crazy loud mouth social butterfly and he was the smart laid back one that never went partying with us because he was always home doing something mundane like studying.

Facebook allows me to keep tabs on what everyone is doing, and, because I am a nosey sort, I totally love that about it. I can write messages to certain friends for the entire world to read, or I can send a more personal note that only that person can see. So in other words, I can still talk about people and no one gets their feelings hurt. Just kidding. Kinda.

Facebook is generational. I got my mom signed up on my last visit and she is able to keep up with all her friends. I now can keep up with her and her buddies. I get to see what my big kids and their friends are doing as well. God knows I am always the last one to know what my out of town family is into. I can see what they wore to the latest party, what the beverage of choice was, and whose face they were pretending to lick from their pictures they so proudly display. Mom, really, your beer bong shot was not pretty. hee hee

Facebook allows ALL of our classmates to plan that 25th high school reunion and leave no one out. We don't have to worry about finding addresses or phone numbers. We can all make suggestions and people can give their input. It's really a beautiful thing.

Facebook, you have allowed me to remember times I had long forgotten and laugh all over again. Thank you, Facebook, for making it easy to reconnect and reminisce. Today I bow to you and your ability to never let me forget that I wet all over myself and the floor as Carla launched herself onto the velcro wall and hung upside down, unable to get down. Or that at a party long ago I called a guy by the wrong name when I drunkenly told him I loved him. Thank you for reminding me that I should never drink in public and that the ability to dance like a Solid Gold Dancer exists only in my head and is really not pretty.

So if you have never joined the cult and become a Facebooker, I encourage you to do so. It is easy breezey and so much fun. Join Deb and Jay and read other tributes today. You won't be sorry.

Stick A Fork In Me

2009-01-26T09:25:00.002-06:00

Now I remember why I am not a baker.

I made my bread (you know, the Amish friendship kind), but decided to throw everyone a curve and do cinnamon rolls. Normally I go to our Czech bakery for these. Let's just say after this weekend, I will continue to pay for cinnamon rolls.

The recipe I got off the internet had me trying to knead an oatmeal-like batter, so I added more flour because that what my Amish alter-ego told me to do. And when I say "more" flour, I am really saying like 2-384 more cups.

So the cinnamon rolls were breathtaking. And by breathtaking I actually mean you couldn't breathe in when you tasted them or you would ingest into your lungs 386 cups of flour. And God knows that is never a good thing.

So I am tossing in the towel as a baker. I will now focus on being a butcher or a candlestick maker. I have my first aide kit and fire extinguisher handy.

It's a Two-fer

2009-01-23T06:15:00.003-06:00

Okay, children. Today's post is two-fold. I am going to send you to read three of the six ~~suckers~~ volunteers that agreed to get interviewed by me, BaaBaa WaWa. Some of them tried to make me change the questions, some cussed me out, some just cussed. It was hilarious. So without further adieu I present to you the first of many unveilings: take it Deb and Ginger and Georgie, too.

Secondly, I want to share an email I recieved that made my husband cry laughing. The man who reads my blogs with no expression was bent over the arm of the couch trying to catch his breath while he read this. I mean this is FUNNY. Not sure it's as funny as Rick thought it was, but apparently those with balls find it the funniest thing EVER. Remember this is an email.

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5' long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...?

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jesse Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an atempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself!

You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative?

SON-OF-A-BITCH, THAT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I shit myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

Now THAT, my friends, is a Christmas gift I MUST have.

Fun With Jill and Janie

2009-01-22T06:28:00.001-06:00

I have been in Blogville since July '08. Since then I have "met" the most incredible people and truly come to love them and consider them friends. We "talk" almost daily, which is more than I can say for my real-life friends, and I have the opportunity to keep updates on what is going on in their lives at present.

I have had the great opportunity to share phone numbers with some of these Blog Buddies I have made and occasionally talk to them via text or phone calls.

Tuesday evening I FINALLY got to hook up with my precious friend Janie from West Texas and have dinner. She was instrumental to me in my time of need, giving me professional advice for my career. She has called to check on me during tumultuous times in business and was always there with sage advice and encouragement.

We had tried to hook up during her many trips to my area and something always seemed to get in the way of our meeting. But Tuesday night I was bound and determined to finally meet face to face. Plus, I needed an excuse to leave my husband on his deathbed suffering from the stomach virus.

We met at Johnny Carino's and feasted on bread, stuffed mushrooms, and Balsamic glazed chicken. We talked and laughed and closed down the restaurant. We both brought our cameras, but never took a breath long enough to snap a picture. But to give you some idea of our meeting, this is EXACTLY what we both wore minus the dog and the pitchfork. I am the shorter one.
I can't wait to hook back up with her. We are thinking of starting our own reality show. As long as food is involved, I am in.

Because Inquiring Minds Want to Know

2009-01-21T06:32:00.002-06:00

I volunteered to be interviewed by Binks thinking she would ask for my shoe size or what I ate for breakfast. When she gave me these questions, I was convinced I would have to think and make complete sentences. So now here is even more information to use against me at any given moment.

1) As a nurse, what is one of the funniest (or craziest) things you've had to deal with?
Working at the hospital, one must acquire a "sicko" sense of humor. What most people do not find funny, we find hilarious. Some of the funniest moments were involving on of my favorite surgeons. One weekend while he was on-call, we had THREE men come in with items placed where the sun doesn't shine and they couldn't get out. The first one was jaw-dropping-OMG-you-have-to-be-kidding-me funny. The second one was ELECTRIC BLUE and funny just for the fact it was yet another excavation project. The third one was still vibrating when removed and when the Dr. sent it in the biohazard bag up to me thru our tubing system making the "rrrrr" sound, I was crying laughing.

2) One of my favorite flowers is the Bluebonnet. Tell me about Texas and why it is such a great state. What is your favorite and least favorite things about it?
Texas is the only state I have ever lived. I grew up in the panhandle where you can see for miles and have lived in the DFW for the last 10 years. Here it has trees and different elevations. Because Texas is so big, you get the pine trees, the rolling hills, the prairie/plains, Palo Duro Canyon, and the beaches. The colors from the dirt to the sky are incredible and the weather is ever-changing. The people are my favorite and the winds are my least favorite. The people are nice and don'y make fun of your wind-blown hair or if they see your panties when your skirt blows over your head.

3) Growing up with two sisters, was there a lot of competition in your house? Did you share clothes or steal clothes? How about makeup? Are there brothers?
I actually have 3 sisters, one I rarely talk about because she had at one point decided she didn't want anything to do with us. Now she has decided we are as cool as we think we are and wants to repair the damage. (Her daughter was the one I raised for 3.5 yearswhen she didn't want to be a mom.) Growing up with 3 sisters and no brothers, we always wore each other's clothes and did make overs on the weekend. It was a time when we did songs and dances, wrote skits and would perform them for our parents. There was never a dull moment, and if one was anticipated, we always broke out in song and dance and entertained each other. We think we are hilarious. We do the "turn upside down and paint a face on your chin and sing to Donny Osmond's Puppy Love" trick. Our husbands think we are insane.

4) What is your favorite high school /college or adulthood experience and why?
Growing up in Borger, we always would drag Main Street and congregate on the old TG&Y parking lot. We would laugh and talk about who was doing who. It was THE place to be. I have lots of college and adulthood memories, but my high school years were by far my favorite. I had 12 best friends and we spent every waking hour together. I stay in contact with all of them and they are now attorneys, doctors, dentists, architechs, nurses, teachers, hospital executives, and business owners. I have connections, people.

5) I love movies and was wondering, do you watch movies? What is the first movie you remember watching?
I love watching movies at home. I love being able to hit pause if I need to make bathroom run and I never have to blindly feel my way back to my seat or worry about sitting in front of chinese people with screaming babies that cry in Chinese. We also have one of the last drive-in theatres in the world (that's what they say anyway) about 5 minutes from our house and in the summer months I enjoy going with my family. The funnel cakes are to die for. I am sensing a need for a such an experience during our Sept Blog Rendezvous. My first movie that I actually remember seeing was Snow White. I think I was four. The mirror on the wall and the witch scared the bejesus out of me. That was the same year my mom and I watched The Birds and thus was born my over-the-top fear of flying birds. I saw eyes poked out. And the sounds... My mom was ever-faithful to cover the TV screen with a cup towel when any sexy scenes were on, but she dropped the ball on that mental scarring scene. Thanks, mom.

Much thanks to Binks and her Barbara Walter's ability to interview. Even if she didn't make me cry. If you want me to interview you, just tell me in your comment. Just know I will not be as kind. I love a good tear jerker...

Tuesday's Tribute

2009-01-20T06:27:00.001-06:00

Today I pay tribute to my husband.

When he is well.

As we speak, he is on the couch in a fetal position, stealing my "spot" on the couch, moaning because he has been afflicted with the stomach virus. The same stomach virus that I had yesterday and received NO help with anything. But this is not about me and my amazing iron stomach.
I could feed my husband anything and he would eat it and say how good it is and thank me for cooking. When he is well.

Yesterday I served him Noodle Soup (no chicken) and crackers. He says, "Are these the new crackers I bought Saturday?"
"No, precious. We still had this unopened package left from Christmas."
"I want the new ones. These taste stale."
"Okay, precious. Let me open the new box for you and get some."
"Can you get a different spoon? This one's a little large."
"Okay, precious. A smaller spoon is on it's way."
"Did you get Berry flavored gatorade?"
"Yes, of course, precious."
"Can I have some ice?"
"Any particular number of ice cubes, precious?"
Then he dribbled some Noodle Soup on my blanket.
THAT made me close my eyes and breathe deeply.

When he is well, he is wonderful. When he is sick, not so much.

I will at this point do anything to get him back to normal. A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

I like him so much more when he is not whiney. That is MY job.

I Did It

2009-01-16T15:46:00.000-06:00

I did it.

I made Amish friendship bread.

I added raisins, dried cranberries, blueberries, and walnuts.

And, before you ask, yes, I went a little overboard on the cinamon/sugar sprinkling over the top.

There was actually another pan of it, but it's gone alredy. I My kids ate every crumb.

I now have a new respect for the Amish women that apparently have more muscle and dedication than I do. I had to get Rick to help stir it, because I had a double batch due to my daughter ~~on purpose~~ accidently leaving it at my house. So I had 7 people to ~~get rid of~~ give away starts to, which put a damper on the whole baking fun, since I really have only 4 real life friends and the rest of you live in my computer.

The Amish, I am sure, do it much better than I do.
But luckily I didn't have to gather the eggs or milk the cow.
I didn't have to hook the horse to the buggy and go into town for the sugar and flour, or put my hair in a bun. No chopping of wood or picking the blueberries in my long calico prairie skirt.
I could never make it the Community.

Plus, I would stick out like a sore thumb with my blond wig.

Kalee's First Day As A Teacher

2009-01-14T06:03:00.000-06:00

I want to tell you if you have never read Martini Mom, you must! She has some of THE funniest stories of her life as a kindegarten teacher. I love this woman and she needs another follower and commenter like a hole in the head, but whatever. (bitch) Anyway, I wanted to tell you what happened to Kalee yesterday on her first day substituting and try to get 189 comments like MM does.

My daughter Kalee, graduated with her elementary education degree in May '08. She subbed yesterday for a special ed class in town. I called her yesterday to check on her and see how her day went.
me: "How did it go?"
Kalee: "It was fine."
M: "Just Fine?"
K: "Yeah. It makes me glad to know there are worse behaved kids than Grayson."
M: Heh heh "What happened?"
K: " We have a precious little girl with Down's syndrome in there that is a little toot. I told her to sit down while we passed out snacks and she said, 'Puck you' to me.
M: "What?!"
K: " Yeah, I looked over at the aide and was like, 'Did she just say what I think she said?" and she just slowly nodded her head finding no amusement in it."
M: "OMG! What did you do?"
K: " I just sat her down and gave her a puzzle with animals on it to bide me time to get the snacks passed out and to get her mind on something else."
M: "Well that was smart."
K: " No, not really. She just said, 'Puck you, duck. Puck you, dog. Puck you, cat, the whole time she put it together. It didn't work. And it was a 10 piece puzzle."

I would have subbed for free for that!!!

Tuesday Tribute to Junk Stores

2009-01-13T06:04:00.003-06:00

It's Tuesday. Tribute Tuesday to be exact. That means I have to do a post on someone other than myself. Jay and Deb are bossy like that. See, look directly to your right. They made me put the button up there, too, so you can click and go to their blogs. So I am going to give my tribute this week to second hand stores that benefit great charities. (I never follow instructions to the letter, so I am branching out here. Plus I had this for today's post before I remembered what day it was. Sue me.)

These places such as Good Will, Salvation Army, Soul's Harbour, local women's shelters, and many others need our support financially to keep their wonderful organizations going. They have great things donated and schleps like me drag them home and re-do them.

Below are some pictures of my latest rescue.

An old antique table that I bought at a junk shop. She was $10. And she was very unloved. She needed a new home and I needed a new desk.

This is what she looked like before. She was all sad and worn.

Man, my posts and front door need re-staining!

A little sanding, a little paint and stain, and she looks good as new. Only her edges have been re- sanded and stained to make her look not-perfect. I cannot have something perfect in my house.
That chair is the next project. She doesn't go with the table all brown and shiney in her pleather dress. And before you tell me, I know the rug is too small. Remember I am lazy and I would have had to move it. And no, I didn't mop the floors either.

I think she is sexier than me in a blonde wig.

No, Amy, you can't have her.

If you haven't ventured inside one of these shops, I highly encourage it. You will be giving back to the community as they assist those needing help.
Donate items or money for the homeless, the abused women, the needy families, and people trying to get their life together. God knows if it's cool, I will buy it.

ULTAmite Makeover

2009-01-12T06:54:00.000-06:00

While visiting Amarillo, my mom, daughter, sisters and my grand babies went to Ulta. THE store for beauty products. It's like a Tammy Faye candy store, plus hair products. My daughter got a makeover and looked gorgeous. My sisters and I got new brushes and makeup. My mom walked away with a tube of mascara. I knew she had to be sick.

While I was there I saw what had been missing my entire redheaded life.

In the back.

Beside the blow driers.

With a price tag of only $200.

There, on a white dummy sat my dream.

I could finally have more fun.

Ready?!

The headband was even included.

Sorry Justin, I am bringing sexy back.

Don't worry. I didn't buy it. They made me leave the store before I could.

It made my nose look too long anyway.

"R" You Ready For This?

2009-01-09T06:30:00.002-06:00

Today, because I have had only three hours of sleep, I am doing this little diddy. It's a fun thing that makes you list ten of your favorite things that begin with the letter the blogger gives you.

I received my letter from Deb and I thought YIPEEEE! She bestowed upon me the letter "R".

Just as on Wheel of Fortune "R' is a staple. "R" will be easy breezey slice of cheesey. "R". Ummm. Uhhhh.
Oh, okay, okay, I know.

Rice. I love rice. Long grain, brown, Boil-in-a-bag, instant, fried, steamed. You name it. But my above all favorite is what my family calls sweet rice. For breakfast nothing is better than a warm bowl of rice with milk, sugar, and butter. I can eat the whole box. I stand over my kids secretly hoping they leave me enough.

Relations. Yes. I mean S-E-X. Mom, you can skip this part if you are feeling flushed. Call me weird, but I love it. Now. I don't mean this second, but now in my life. With my husband. With someone who loves me and tells me I am beautiful, even when I don't feel like I am. Always better with Romance. Hee! I combined two.

Roombah. No, I don't have one, but my SIL does. She swears by it, so I want one. I HATE sweeping, and sweeping, and then sweeping again, all in 42 minutes. The dead grass and dried mud drive me absolutely batty. Plus, I think it might be funny to watch my dog, Andy, with the flattened little R2D2 thing sucking all the gunk up off the floor without anyone manning it. It's so Jetson-like. I will learn to love it.

Renovations. On someone else's home, of course. I have lived in re-do's since I was first married at 19. I love to paint. It is very therapeutic for me. I love to fix things and make them all pretty. Then, six months later, I do it again.

Rock. Not the ones you step on and hop around with weirdly contortioned feet, but the music kind. Now that I am "old" I find myself listening to Pop Rock, but the urge to slam in some Hard Rock is always there. Is it just me, but when you hear certain songs from "back in the day", does it make you want to drive fast with the windows down and your hair blowing with that sense of "coolness" that suddenly washes all over you? No?! Hmmm.

Reclining. No, not recliners, but just reclining. It's more involved than just sitting. I also have my spot on the couch that I call mine. With a simple flick of my hand I can make anyone in the house move out of my spot. It is a known gesture. No arguments or whining. I have claimed it. I blog there. I watch TV there. I drink my Diet Cokes there. It is a sacred place. Hello. My name is Jill and I am lazy.

Reading. I love to read and wish I had more time to sit down with a good book and read my brains out.

Okay, eight down and 2 to go. I am hitting a wall here. "R" isn't as easy as I thought. Let's break it down. (na nana na)

R-A: Raggedy Ann? Raman noodles? Racing? No. None of these, though Raggedy Ann is cute and I DO have one from my childhood. But I look too much like her. Except for the triangle mouth. And I DID eat Raman noodles during my divorce and lost 30 pounds. And racing might work if I was any sort of athletic. Does racing to the bathroom to keep from peeing yet another pair of panties count? I didn't think so.

R-E: Renuzit? Regurgitate? Rebound? No, none of these do anything for me. Reeses? Now that I could handle. I will take 5 please. But even that isn't in my "love" category.

R-I: Ricola? The song alone makes me want to NEVER try the product. Rhino? (Shut it, the "H" is silent) Ricotta? I do love Ricotta....

R-O: Rotel? Mmmm, love it. Rolaids. Very important AFTER Rotel. Row Row Row your boat? Oh dear Lord I have lost it.

R-U: Rubiks Cube? Nope. Rudeness? Hate it. Rum? NOW we are talking!! Coconut please.

Okay my favorite R:

Rick. I know I have gushed about him and made you ill, so I will tell you what made me laugh the other day. He received a business card from a woman he was supposed to call back. Her last name was Kunz. When he called her and left her a message, and being the gentleman he was taught to be, he addressed her as "Ms". And being the goofball who cannot pronounce Smith, added a "T" to her name. Between the "n" and the "z". And did not make the "u" long. In the background of that message she will hear me "BWAAAHAA" like Mr. Ed. I am thinking he won't get THAT lady's floor job.

God, I love that man.

Okay, sue me. I only did nine. If you want to do this because you can't think of a post, let me know in your comment. I will assign you a letter. Hee! I feel so teacher-y.

BTW, I used 16 sets of quotation marks in this "R" post. Seventeen. It has to be a record. Eighteen. I just titled this thing. heh heh. I need more sleep. I am thinking I am flipping hilarious at this point.

The Reality That Bites

2009-01-07T07:02:00.003-06:00

Okay, so sorry for the vanishing...mourning during the holidays is not recommended. I just returned from the big A, spending time with my mom and making a combined pledge with her and my sisters that 2009 will be a year of rejoicing and fun. Being sad is way too tiring.

So, my holidays were busy and filled with food, family, and messes to clean and more food. I am cheeseballed-out and if I don't see a dip featuring sour cream and something green for a year, it will be too soon. We got all things Wii and to the suggestion of all my employees, my husband got me a navigation thingy. Now I can find my way directly to every restaurant in every town I visit. The Wii Fit remains safe in her box and I will unleash her when I unpack from Amarillo. Maybe.

My mom lives in this beautiful cottage-like traditional home and has every square inch of it decorated like the pages of Southern Living, with her bathroom being the spa retreat from Heaven. Amelia and I spend like an hour in there just rummaging through all her lotions and masks and exfoliates and oils and, well, you get the picture. I only have one, okay two complaints.

Her bathtub was made for 90 pound midgets.

I cannot soak because the cramps that develop from not being able to point my toes is unbearable. Porcelain is freakin' cold in the panhandle and when you AREN'T a 90 pound midget, every inch of you touches the damn thing. Seriously, I have gravy tureens bigger than that tub.

Then there's the full-length mirror with the heat lamp illuminating all that stands in it's view.

The mirror and light that makes everything a reality. The reality that my C-section isn't noticeable. Not because my surgeon was a genius, but because my belly hangs over it and hides it. The reality that my saddle bags won't fit on most average-sized horses. The reality that I missed a couple of places when I gave myself that Brazilian shave job because hot wax scares the hell out me. The reality that my cellulite on my thighs have some dimples so deep that I could seriously serve crab dip in them. The reality that the varicose veins shimmer and shine against the chalk white skin they bulge out of. The reality that the hair on my upper thighs I convinced myself was blonde isn't. The reality that tiny small bosoms actually can droop. The reality that sideways AND naked, I look even worse. The reality that that damn Wii Fit I begged for will be opened. As soon as I click publish.

Happy 2009. Now I gotta go breathe heavy and sweat. That will happen just opening the box.

I Am Not Dead. REALLY!

2009-01-06T21:24:00.003-06:00

Hello from the Land of the Lost!!! Thank you for the sweet emails and comments worrying that I had dropped off the face of the Earth. I am fine, just fatter and more full of it.

I just wanted to ask you a favor. Please visit my wonderful friend, Wendy here and show her some love. We have worked together and even opened up a company together. I have been trying to get her to blog for FOUR months. We have shared many laughs and I love her dearly. She knows every emabarrassing thing about me and I have paid her well to keep her mouth shut. Just kidding. She is cheap. Just kidding. Maybe.

I have told her all about you and she still wants to meet all of you. Just kidding. About the still wanting to meet you part. But I have told her about how great you all are and how encouraging you would be to her. God love her, she only has me to tell her about Blogville. SHE NEEDS YOU!!!!! So please stop by and introduce yourself. I know you want another follower anyway. See you tomorrow at 7am.

So glad to be back home! I missed you!!! Now go visit Wendall K.

Today Laughter is Priceless

2008-12-30T12:38:00.002-06:00

Today is my Daddy's birthday. He would have been 64. January 5th, 2008, he passed away. Daddy left a huge legacy of laughter and fun in the wake of his too-short life.

I have been bummed today, wishing I could call him and do our yearly birthday conversation. So not to wallow in self-pity,

I am posting some of the funny pictures I have of my daughter's children. Grayson, Kaydi Jo, and her step-son, Jacob.

My Daddy would have been so proud.

'Twas 3 Nights After Christmas

2008-12-29T13:25:00.000-06:00

'Twas 3 nights after Christmas, when all thru the house,
Not a creature was stirring, we thought, not even a mouse.
The stockings were packed in the attic with care,
In hopes I could find them next year right up there.

The children were at their dad's or in their own beds,
While visions of Clean and Quiet danced in our heads.
With ma in her sweats and dad in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out in the garage there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away down the hall I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and fell on my ash. (Work with me here)

The light on the breast of the new-fallen bimbo
Gave light to the water I slipped in, above and below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a mouse with a sticky pad trap stuck to it's rear.

With the little old mouse, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I needed to call for Rick.
More rapid than eagles his footsteps they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called out by name!

"Now Dammit! Now Mother! Now Effer and Shitter!
That stupid mouse! I will just hit her!
To the top of the entrance, to the top of the garage wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So inside the garage the mouse and man flew,
With it's ass full of sticky pad trap, and St Rickolas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. (I know, mice don't have hooves,
work with me here, too!)
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Over the boxes St Rickolas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in sweat, from his head to his ash,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and trash.
A giant broom he had flung over his back,
And he looked like a mad man, or someone on crack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The blob of Redman he held tight between his gum and his cheek,
And the smoke out of his ears encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a mad face and me, a little round belly,
That shook when I laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
I was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him running around, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of the broom's head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And beat the poor mouse to death, then turned with a jerk.

And with his finger pushing his glasses up on his nose,
And giving a nod, off the garage floor he rose!
He sprang to his feet, to his wife gave a whistle,
And I wondered what the hell was the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he came into sight,
"I think I blew out my knee, but I will be alright!"

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T06:22:00.000-06:00

This

Xmas,

I would

like to put

up a tree in my

heart, and instead

of wrapping presents,

I would like to put the

names of all my friends.

Close friends and not so close

friends. The old friends, the new

friends. Those that I see every day

and the ones that I rarely see. The ones

that I always remember and the ones that

I sometimes forget. The ones that are always

there and the ones that seldom are. The friends of

difficult times and the ones of happy times. Friends

who, without meaning to, I have hurt, or without meaning

to have hurt me. Those that I know well and those I only know

by name. Those that owe me little and those that I owe so much.

My humble friends and my important friends. The names of all those that

have passed through my life no matter how fleetingly. A tree with

very deep roots and very long

and strong branches so that

their names may never be

plucked from my heart. So

that new names from all

over may join the existing ones. A tree with a very

pleasant shade so that our friendship may take a

moment of rest from the battles of life. "May the

happy moments of Xmas brighten every day of

the new year". These are my sincere wishes.

The Rest Of The Story

2008-12-18T07:12:00.002-06:00

If you are just joining us, we are talking about how I got these fabulous boots in Amarillo and got home to Dallas and realized they were not the same. One was fluffy, one was gnawed-on looking. I loved Nikki's suggestion about finding the closest Pomeranian and hot gluing some it's clippings
onto the boot, as well as just finding a willing mouse or scissors to finish off the pretty boot so they would match. But I have started this thing and I MUST complete my assignment.(Because I AM a secret agent and all.)

So, off to Dillards I go and was pleasantly surprised that the returns were taken directly back to the whichever department you got the item in. That meant no lines!!! I approach a man who had his back to me and was behind the counter. I had my camera in my purse because I every intention of making her/him pose with my new boots, because I am a sadist like that and someone was going to pay for my inconvenience.

When I approached the counter, he turned to the side and I was looking into the eye of poor Jim the shoe salesman. Jim had what we call a gouch eye. An eye that basically has a mind of it's own and looks wherever it wants, no matter what the brain and the other "good" eye say. Now I am not making fun of Jim. I did not point and laugh or say, "Oh my GOD, man! What the eff is up with your eye?" or even, "You lookin' at me?" in my best Pacino voice. I did start saying in my head "And what to my wandering eye did appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer" over and over though.

I, too, in my younger years had a lazy eye which explains so much today. My eye is fine now, but now my ass has it. (Heh, that was so just thrown in there!) My husband sometimes gets that wandering eye early in the morning if he is staring into space and someone asks him a question, only half of him looks at you. It's rather freaky and has caused a good early laugh when Cooper asks him something and he looks with one eye and Cooper turns around to see who/what the gouch eye is looking at. And my step son had an eye injury when he was young and he also likes to make you wonder at times where to look when you talk to him and his wandering eye. But we all laugh and no one makes fun of them. Too badly.

So back to poor Jim the shoe salesman. I took my box out and showed him the boot and he totally agreed with me that right one was a little off. Then he said, "BUUUT, I don't carry that one here at this store. It doesn't get cold enough for that particular boot." Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech. Stop the car. "Excuse me?"
"We carry that particular boot at the North Park Mall."
"Can you call and find out if they have my size before I drive up there, please?" And could you tell someone to jump in their Beamer and just drive it down to me from WAY up there at North Park. I mean here in Texas apparently 30 minutes south and you are screwed out of the good winter clothing.

"It's there. They have 3 pair in your size."
"Tell them to hold one. I will be sending my husband tomorrow." (Before you judge me, just ask the girls who live here in DFW area with me. I am saving him HUNDREDS, maybe even thousands (if I had it) of dollars by sending him. That Mall has a magnetism to my wallet and I cannot say no to the great deals. I am doing us a FAVOR by sending Rick in.) So I thanked him for all his help and thought about taking his picture and then assumed he would think I was mocking his eye. But because I was leaving with the same fur-ic-ally challenged boots, I was going to cough in poor Jim the shoe salesman's face just for good measure and to say I did it. But I just couldn't. I walked away and turned back to see Jim facing the side door but still able to give one fleeting glance in my direction without turning his head.

Man, I miss Marty Feldman.

Happy Birthday, Georgie!!!!!
Comment on G'dog's blog wishing her a happy day and Deb will put you in a drawing for a great prize! We are looking for 100 legitimate comments. None of that hijacking-one-word-comments-that-make-you-laugh-as-you-write-it-crap, but real comments. God, what immature person would really do that?! Quit pointing at me!!!!!!!!!!

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

2008-12-17T08:00:00.001-06:00

While in Amarillo, my mom and sisters bought matching boots. We are weird like that. Always saying, "I love your ____. I am going to go get me one." Or, "I got a new ____. You have to go get one." In other words, You won't let me wear yours or you can't wear mine. Either way, we dress alike. So while in Dillard's we all got pajamas. Those we didn't match. Then Amy went to the shoe department.

She tried on these incredible black yummy boots. They were on sale and since she was at the time, wearing MY black boots, she bought her a black pair. And I wanted a new brown pair. So I try on one, love them, thrilled they fit over my freakishly enormous calves, and tell the lady I want them. (Please note I tried on ONE boot.) I never even checked the giant box she brought out and I paid for. And because it warmed up while I was there, I never wore them.

Until yesterday. It was freezing cold, all blustery outside with drizzle and strong winds. I had to work. And I was sick. So, I decide to take the giant box down and take my boots out. I am giddy to wear them and thinking I already feel better, realizing they have some magical healing power.

How cute are these boots?!

The left boot is so perfectly fluffy

The right one has issues. No perfect fluffiness noted. In fact, it looks like a fashion-conscious mouse have gnawed herself a new hat and scarf with my fluffy border.

I screamed and cussed (not real bad, Mom). Okay, bad. And suddenly felt a fever come upon me and started coughing uncontrollably, because yelling so vehemently always make choke. That meant I couldn't be all cute in my new boots. And worse, I would have to fight my way to the return counter in Dillards in Cedar Hill which makes me want to just pass out.
As difficult as it was, I stifled the thought of trimming the left fluffy boot irratically to match the right one just to avoid that freakin' store. So, today I have to see more patients, spread my love and germs and go wait in line at the damn mall. Even though I know it will be a different one, I am so coughing in the shoe girl's face.

Book Winners, Anniversaries, and Birthdays

2008-12-15T06:55:00.001-06:00

Congrats to Ginger for winning the copy of "Holding Fast" By Karen James. Also I am sending a copy to Rhonda because she promised to read fast and send it on to those that wanted a chance to read it. I think that is a GREAT idea, so just let her know if you are willing to read and pass it on.

Thank you so much for the sweet comments and allowing me a chance to share the impact that tragedy had on me. But I am done making you cry. Now on to funny things!

Saturday was our 5th anniversary. The kids were at their dad's. So you know what that meant...
loud sex and Christmas shopping! (Just kidding, mom!!!) We did take a break (From shopping, mom!) and went to eat at Randy's Steakhouse in Frisco. This elite place is in an old Victorian house and dining is by reservation only. The room we were seated in was dimly lit and reading the menu was next to impossible. I had to get the little candle on our table to put up next to the menu to even see the choices. The prices were high, but not jaw-dropping, so when the waiter came to give us the specials, I never bothered to ask the price. BIG MISTAKE!!! We both got the iced tea since there was more shopping to do (and plus, we were planning on getting soused at home (just kidding, mom!)). No appetizer, just salads, filet mignon with lobster bernaise and Cajun tiger shrimp, asparagus, and garlic mashed potatoes. It was phenomenal. Beyond belief good. Dessert was complimentary because it was our anniversary. Our bill was $147.95. Rick's 12 oz. steak was $67. With tip, we were looking at $180. It was delicious, but for the love of God, 30 minutes later in IKEA's restroom, it was already over and done with.

On our way back home, while going down the highway, in the middle of nowhere, fireworks begin to go off directly beside us. Not just one or two big fireworks, but BIG 4th-of-July-like-light-up-the-sky fireworks. I was shocked and said, "Wow, I wonder what the celebration is!" Rick just turns and says slyly, "Happy Anniversary, honey." Then he laughed hysterically. For a split second I thought, DAMN, he's good!!

Sunday was my mom's birthday and since I couldn't score any tickets for the game in Dallas, (Thanks for trying, Janie!) she went to Burlington Coat Factory with my sister Erin and got herself a huge parka with a fur-lined hood and sat with her mocha moolatte from DQ to watch the game on TV and pretended she was there. How much better could it be?

I love you so much, Mom, and wish you lived closer. I miss spending time with you and laughing at all your mispronunciations and driving (dis)abilities. You are my role model and taught me everything I know about being a good mom. (The bad mom parts of me I learned from a book.) You supported me in all my (legal) activities and were always there when I needed a shoulder to cry on with encouragement and guidance. I am who I am today because of you. Thank you, Mom, for always telling me I made you proud and making me want to please you. You were always my biggest fan and laughed harder than anyone at my jokes (unless Amy was there).You made me see the good in all people and be satisfied with life as long as my kids were safe and happy. Thank you for encouraging me to go back to school and helping me when I went thru my divorce. I know I lived a childhood that not many people get to experience and I am so thankful to you and Daddy for showing me true unconditional love. I only have a couple of complaints:

1) Did you really have to keep my hair in a pixie all those years?

2) I know it may have been the style, but some of the pants I

have seen in pictures that I wore could have been avoided.

3) Stop sign glasses? Really?! I was 7 and had no sense of style.

You should have been firmer about that.

4) You probably should have been honest with me about my

4H sheep. Learning they really were not frolicking in the

pasture all these years,but were lamb chops, was a difficult

revelation 10 years later.

5) You should have pushed dating David A. more fervently. I

might have actually gotten a redheaded kid out of the deal.

I wish everything you wished for on your birthday, but I know Daddy is happy and patiently waiting on us to join him. He loved you very much and no one torked his jaw like you and your navigational skills (except John's ice crunching). And in case you have forgotten, I love you more than Amy and Erin. I mean, not to pat myself on the back, but who saved your life? Okay, then. I can't wait to see you this weekend and spend time watching you make you chocolate pies. Hey, Amy is the cook and Erin cleans. I am the delegator and taste-tester, not to mention world-renown choreographer. You can't have it all and I have accepted that. See, I learned from you that I should be happy with myself, even if it meant not liking to cook and clean and just bossing people around. I love you, Mom!!! (And BTW, Jerry Jones said that win was for you!)

I will be cleaning(blah) and cooking(double blah) for the fam coming in friday, so I may be a vapor this week. I am thinking serving McNuggets, and Whataburger fried pies won't cut it this year. I have grown as a hostess and now am going above and beyond with some bags of Chex Mix. What? I will have Amy put them in a bowl. Sheesh. I am not that lazy. Being bossy is hard work.

Part Three of My Version

2008-12-13T07:00:00.000-06:00

Side Note: This post, as the previous 2, are my words and feelings about the tragedy on Mt Hood two years ago when 3 climbers were lost. Kelly James, the climber they found in the snow cave, was my husband's oldest and dearest friend. I share these memories with you as a tribute to the James family as well as my husband, Rick who tirelessly spent a week in Oregon supporting his friend Kelly and Kelly's family in any way he could. The effects of Kelly's death linger on, but the memories and love surpass the pain that being separated from him in this world hold.

If you are interested in receiving a copy of Karen James' Book Holding Fast: The Untold Story of the Mount Hood Tragedy" please say so in your comment. The drawing will be held on Sunday and the winner announced Monday the 16th.

I awoke to an empty bed with three hours of restless sleep. My husband was 2000 miles away in the middle of what had become the biggest news story of the time.

It was our third anniversary.

I vividly remember Karen and Kelly at our wedding. Each was indescribably gorgeous. Together they were breathtaking. I had gotten to know them over our year long engagement and loved them dearly. They were so classically charming and made you feel like you were the most important person in the world when they spoke to you. I knew they genuinely loved Rick and we all had a mutual admiration for our new roles as Rick and I became a couple.

The calls continued to come from concerned family members and friends and I went through the motions of daily life with the television never off of CNN. That morning Rick hadn't slept, but instead had gotten food again and taken it to the men who were the rescue team for that day. This was the day they would find them. I just felt it. I told my children over breakfast, "Pray that the rescuers are safe today. I really feel like today is the day they will find them."

They planned to use small model-sized radio controlled planes that were heat seeking to go above where the rescuers could not go. Everyone's hopes were high in Dallas and reports on every local and national news station were optomistic.

I went to my room after dinner to watch and pray uninterrupted. My prayers were beginning to sound redundent and I decided to talk aloud to God to keep my thoughts straight. I decided not to end it with 'Amen' but leave it open in case I wanted to add anything. I fell asleep dreaming how Kelly would look in the hospital, sitting up in bed with some scratches and bruises but with a smile on his face. He would be telling Karen the story and she would smile and lay her head down on the bed next to his arm and go to sleep. The ringing of my phone woke me up.

"Any news?" I asked.

"They found the letters they left at the lodge and in their rental with detailed insructions of where they were going and what they were taking."

"Did the little planes find anything?"

"No. the winds are gusting like crazy and windchills are 30 below."

I looked at my alarm clock and it read 3:13am. It was now December 14th and our anniversary had come and gone. I hadn't gotten what we both wanted more than anything. Kelly was still up on that mountain.

"Happy anniversary, honey."

"Oh, shit, honey. I am so sorry. I totally have lost track of time."

"Really, baby, I sorta knew that. I just want them to be found and when you come home we can celebrate."

"Tonight something really weird happened."

"What?"

"Tonight while Barry and I were downtown, out of nowhere a huge blast of wind swept thru and all the electricity in the town went out. We were just standing on the street talking and the next thing we knew it was pitch black and quiet."

"That IS weird." Later he would confess that he felt like that is when Kelly died.

"It doesn't look good, baby. They can't get Kelly's ping anymore from his cell phone and we are running out of time. I am really scared they aren't going to find them in time."

"Yes they will honey. They have to."

He talked about meeting a guy with National Geographic and how they wanted to interview him. Any other time being on CNN and having NG wanting an interview would have been so exciting. Only now it brought sadness and despair. Rick humbly denied his offer but remained close to this photojournalist who had become his friend.

Thursday and Friday came and went and the phone calls became more frequent yet more quiet. Rick who is normally very talkative had nothing to say. The news station were only covering bits and peices, unlike the full coverage they had been doing since the news broke. The family was beginning to feel the strain and Rick was right in the middle of it.

"Karen will be in the next press conference. I know her. I know she is panicking that the rescuers and the media will give up and we cannot have that. Not now."

Thankfully Karen had had experience in news reporting and had wonderful contacts that allowed her access to many resources. She was so savvy and even under this tremendous pressure, she was able to see what would happen if everyone gave up and left. So the rally began.

Plans were made for the moms of all three men and the sister of Brian to speak. People from all avenues of communication were available and the lull quickly turned around. The boys were again the Top Story in the news.

Sunday about 4pm. the family gets word that not one, but two snow caves have been found and there is a body in one. I am in Target at the time with my daughter and my neice getting last minute Christmas gifts when my phone rings.

"It's Kelly."

"Oh, God, NO!" I can no longer stand and I go down to my knees and begin sobbing right in the middle of the accessory aisle. People turn as they hear me cry and begin to offer help.

"They just found my parent's best friend dead in a snow cave,' my 11 year old daughter tells them.

I vaguely remember nodding my head when people were asking me about Kelly and if I was okay to drive. I was able to drive 5 minutes to my mother-in-law's house where I called Rick back and asked him to come home.

He made sure that karen and kids made it to the airport and he booked his flight to come home.

I went to the airport to pick up Rick even though he had his truck. I just needed to be with him. I saw him thru the glass coming towards the revolving door and as he entered the Baggage Claim I grabbed him and we fell into a giant heap of sobs and kisses. The love I had for him was spilling out and from that moment on, my heart has never forgotten how much I loved and needed him. We never quit holding hands the entire trip home.

The funeral was after Christmas and we went early knowing there would be a full house. We hadn't had the opportunity to hud Karen or even see her without the entourage of people that were there there to help her. I had resigned myself that we would see her soon and that she needed that support at the time. I decided to get a cup of coffee at the coffee shop inside the church. I stood in line and was looking up at the menu when the woman in front of me turned around. It was Karen. We just stood there looking at one another and without words our pain and sympathy was entwined as we just hugged and cried. As she pulled away, words were still unable to come and as her hand slipped from mine I knew all had been said that needed to be said. She knew how much we loved her. She knew how much we loved Kelly. And she knew we were hurting for her and were here for her. That's all that she needed to know.

As time went on and the healing began, we were constantly reminded of Kelly and his love for adventure and life. His life testimony taught all of us the importance of living life to the fullest. To be passionate about all things that you love. And to cling to those you love. Kelly always told his family and friends he loved them. I now do the same thing. I want my friends and my family to never doubt the importance of our relationship, just as Kelly so perfectly modeled. One thing we all went away with was that we were all Kelly's best friends. He always made us feel we were his favorite. That is a legacy I want to leave.

As all Kelly's best friends sat together at Brian's memorial months later, there was a pause in conversation. Then someone, during the course of talking about Kelly, asked, "How are we going to know what's cool now?" The women laughed and the men were suddenly hit with the reality that Kelly had been the "cool" one, giving his opinion of your clothes, your house, your hobby, etc. These men that had known him, respected him, and loved him were now on their own. It was a revolution for these guys to fully understand the impact Kelly had had on them.

The holidays are very difficult for us as a family. We lost Kelly in December 2006, Rick's father in June 2007, then my father in Jan 2008. In June 2008 one of our nephews was shot and miraculously survived. So every six months we have had a major circumstance that reminds us how fragile life is. Needless to say, we are holding breaths during this exact time. But I have faith in God that just as He did in the other times, He will pull us through. Even though I am far from the poster child of Christianity, I have my placed my faith in something mightier than myself. I cannot imagine going through life without something to believe in. God has allowed all these things in my life for a reason. And one day I will see why. I am still looking but have a peace that I can't explain. All I can do is share with those who want to know.

This peek into our life during Dec 2006 was told because during this time is when you should hold your family closer and tell them how much you love them and how important they are to you. Don't wait until tragedy strikes.

I love you.

The Second Part of My Story

2008-12-12T07:00:00.001-06:00

Side note: I am giving away a copy of Karen James' book "Holding Fast, The Untold Story of the Mt. Hood Tragedy". If you would like a chance to win this book, please say so in your comment. These posts are written by me from my point view. Karen's book is much better and more detailed and conveys the issues those that were in Oregon were going through during the search.

Kelly and Rick were inseparable growing up. Lou Ann and Logan, Kelly's mom and step dad were best friends with Norma and Dick, Rick's parents. The men had served in the military together and the girls shared the same head-strong determination to raise their families with high morals, strict disciple, and strong religious foundations. Many times Kelly and Rick found themselves being spanked at one house after doing their infamous childhood pranks, only to go to the other's home and receiving another paddling. Both sets of parents loved all the kids as their own.

Before Rick had proposed to me, he informed me that I had to meet Kelly and Karen. Later, I would find out that the dinner we had with them was my interview. Rick had shared with Kelly that he was going to ask me to marry him and he had wanted their "okay". I was just glad I had been on my best behavior that evening.

***************************************************

I awoke to the same sounds and stories I had fallen asleep to the previous night. The rescuers had gone out around six a.m. and they were planning a news conference to give information later in the afternoon.

Rick called early on Tuesday, Dec 12th, to tell me he was on his way to the Portland airport to pick up Lou Ann, Kelly's mom. He was dreading the long ride to the B&B in Hood River where he would be reuniting her with her grandchildren and daughter-in-law. (Logan was ill at the time and Rick's mom had been in contact with Lou Ann just weeks before the accident to share war stories of their ill husbands.) What would he tell her? How would he comfort this mother that was like his own when he himself felt so helpless?

I plugged on, trying to keep some resemblance of normalcy back at home. I was manning the phone, starting the email for encouragement to the families, and attempting to remain upbeat and calm to all the family and friends that were calling to check on things. Rick had limited phone privileges due to the overwhelming amount of media that flocked to Mt. Hood and their B&B. He would call and whisper the daily events so that nothing could be written and taken out of context. His main concern was to help in whatever capacity was needed to find Kelly and to keep Karen and the kids safe from the media.

I was not allowed to share intimate details about what the family knew to our family and friends and he told me under no circumstances was I to talk to anyone in the media. The story was nationwide and people were coming out of the woodwork to get any and all information on these men who were lost in a storm while climbing Mt Hood.

Even though I was never alone, I didn't have anyone to talk to or tell me it was going to be okay. I was so lonely and felt so guilty about thinking of myself during this horrific time. My kids were phenomenal and after the days grew into one another, they took over a lot of the hands-on details. They left me alone, knowing that if I was in my bedroom with the door shut, I was not to be disturbed. I have never had that happen before in 22 years of mothering. It was oddly uncomfortable.

Back at Hood River, the families had had their first news conference and I watched on CNN as Rick tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible. I could see him hiding in the backgound behind the kids, there to support the family that he loved so dearly, and I would cry out of relief knowing he was safely still on the ground. I could see the pain on everyone's faces as the search was again called off due to high winds. They had been on the mountain 4 days past the time they were to meet Brian's friend. I could hear the faint sound of despair in Frank's voice as he spoke for his little brother's family. They all remained optimistic, as did the rest of the world.

When Rick found himself alone with no media around the corner or at the table next to him, he would call me. Sometimes that meant at 3 am. I would answer with a hopeful, "Any news?" to which I would receive a whispered, "Not yet". Then he would quietly tell me of the days events and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Rick is a take charge kind of guy. He has had his own business for over 25 years and been the boss in his family, even making decisions for his parents. If something needs to get done, Rick is the man to contact. During this time, he had designated himself "Food Guy" and would awaken before anyone else to go out and get doughnuts and coffee for the rescuers and family. This was something he could control and it gave him some hint of satisfaction knowing he was needed. But this overall helplessness was almost more than he could handle. No amount money or manpower could change the weather.

"It's so incredibly weird here at this Bed and Breakfast."

"What do you mean? Because of the media?"

"No. Kelly and the guys stayed here the night before they climbed."

"Oh."

"I talked to the owner for about two hours tonight. She is very kind. She told me something but you can't share this with anyone."

"Okay, " I whispered back, almost not wanting to hear what she told him.

"She put me in the room that Kelly had."

I heard myself gasp, not really knowing the full impact of this information.

"She said she had planned on not even renting it out, but when she saw me, something made her give me the room. I sleep where he slept. The room is so warm. Jill, it's so cold here. He is somewhere up there in sub-zero weather. And no one can get to him."

We softly cried and then I begged him again, "Rick, please don't go up there."

"They won't let anyone up. I tried to find another route but with the snow and wind, it is impossible."

I breathed a sigh of relief. But an incredible amount of sadness flooded me.

I suddenly felt the all the weight of reality hit me in full force.

Kelly and the guys were still up there.

I could not imagine what Karen was going through.

It was freezing cold outside where 3 men were waiting to be rescued.

We were less than 3 hours away from the beginning of another rescue attempt.

Would they find Kelly and Brian and Nikko today?

And it was my and Rick's third anniversary.

(to be continued...)

Holding Fast

2008-12-11T09:25:00.000-06:00

If you able to watch GMA this morning, you probably saw our friend Karen James being interviewed by Dianne Sawyer. She has written a book telling the untold story of that fateful trip that ended all three climber's lives.

I am giving away her book to a commenter that would like to read more about this story. If you want to win the book, just tell me so in your comment. The drawing will be done over the weekend and the winner announced Monday, Dec 15th.

The book, "Holding Fast" is a fast easy read that lets you in on the emotions and circumstances that her and the kids were going through during the time of the search. It was very cathartic for me, as well as Rick. This has deeply effected my husband, which in return effects me and I would love to share that part of our life with you, my dear bloggy buddies.

I can only describe what was going on on my side.

It was two years ago yesterday when my husband Rick received the news that his oldest and best friend Kelly was missing on Mt. Hood. Rick answered his phone and I saw his face fall, the color draining out. He got up and went outside to talk. I followed, knowing something wasn't right, running a mental role call of the kids. He turns his back to me and I hear him say he will call them back when he gets to the airport.

"Kelly and Brian are lost on the mountain. We are all flying out today. It's on the news."

I watch him stand in shock and reach out to grab onto him, not exactly sure what "being lost" completely entailed. It was 60 degrees where we were and I had no idea what storm was literally brewing in Oregon.

Rick began to get the suitcases and I immediately had CNN turned on. I unknowingly would not turn off that TV or station until 6 days later.

As we sat and watched the sparsely patched bits of info being given, Rick was on the phone with all his climbing connections and scheduling his flight out to Oregon. I was calmly organizing his suitcase, truly unsure of the magnitude of what was actually transpiring.

It was all so unreal. Kelly was this Adonis specimen and Brian, his climbing partner, was even bigger and more super-human. I was thinking they would be found with everyone fine and we would be at their house for New Year's drinking wine and smoking cigars on their back patio and listening to this latest adventure that made CNN's Developing Story.

I was calm, as I usually am in a crises. All my ER training had prepared me for my meticulous organization and clear head. I was a machine. Until I saw Rick getting out his climbing gear.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Just taking my stuff in case I need to help find him."

"You can't climb. You haven't trained. You are not in shape. You will be lost, too."

"I am not going up alone."

I try to remain composed and realize I am about to burst open. As I make my way to the bathroom, I trip over a climbing rope. My sob escapes and I sit on the floor and cry like a baby.

"Promise me you won't go up there to find him!"

He has no response, and just continues to pack.

I now begin to scream, completely shocked at my reaction to seeing his climbing gear being packed.

"We have an anniversary on Wed. You cannot do this to me and the kids. This is stupid."

"I am not going to climb."

His words were flat and I knew he was lying.

At this point, we knew nothing except they were missing and teams of rescuers were being organized to go out in the morning.

I grabbed my phone and went outside to make a call to Sean, another climbing friend.

"Are you going to try to find him?"

"What?"

"Kelly. Are you taking your climbing gear? Are you going to try to find him?"

"Probably not."

"Promise me you won't let Rick climb. He isn't in shape. Even if you have to drug him, don't let him climb. Promise me, Sean."

"I promise. But I am not leaving until tomorrow."

I then called Barry and talked him into going to chaperon my husband. I booked his flight with Rick's and knew Barry would never let Rick climb. I had manipulated some sort of temporary peace for myself and was able to kiss him goodbye and tell him I loved him without completely falling apart.

At midnight I received word that Rick had made it to the Bed and Breakfast where Karen and the kids were staying and he had gotten a room.

"There are 4 news vans here. They keep wanting to talk to me. I have to stay with the kids or in my room. I will call you in the morning."

"Promise me, Rick."

"I love you, Jill. I won't climb."

"Say the words 'I promise'.

" I can't. He's my best friend. He would try to find me if that was me up there. I love you."

I don't think my 'I love you' was audible. It is too hard to talk when the air is knocked out of you.

I finally fell asleep to the droning of CNN reporting the search would resume in the morning and the weather was getting worse.

(To be continued)

Why My Grandchildren Always Get Their Way

2008-12-10T08:18:00.006-06:00

Below are some pictures my daughter, Kalee and her husband, Lance, had taken for Christmas.

Jacob, 8, Grayson, 3, and Kaydin Jo, 8 months.

Now do you see why they have me wrapped around their little fingers?

The Weekend

2008-12-09T09:02:00.001-06:00

As you all know, I went to see my mom and sisters this past weekend for my sister, Amy, and my mom's birthday. Amarillo was freezing cold, and as expected, the wind was blowing like a million miles an hour.

Here is picture of Amy paying no attention to me, but instead is on her flippin' blackberry watching her video over and over.

Here is what happens when the wind blows a million miles an hour in the Texas panhandle. These are Texas style tumbleweeds. Ya know everything is bigger here... This was taken while I was getting gas. I stayed in the car because I am a whimp and honestly I am petrified of being speared by a giant tumbleweed.

We ate out every meal because it was Amy's and Mom's birthday and that left Erin and I...

Hello Restaurant Row!!!! This is Erin and Mom at Cracker Barrel for breakfast. And yes, they actually eat, just not like the Champs do.

Here are the Champs.

Amy had her bouffant going and all four of my chins were present to enjoy the grub.
Here we are staring at the sun with our eyes watering and unable to open. Look at Mom's new dog, Lucy, a King Charles Cavalier. Isn't she so cute? (Amy will say, "Thanks for putting a picture of me with my eyes closed!" and I will say, "But I looked good, so shut it We are about to eat. Erin looks like she is about to pass out from hunger. I wish I would have know you were getting a boob shot because I would have smushed them together for greater cleavage. Shut up, Deb. Yes, I have to use my upper arms for cleavage.

This, my friends, is what we ate for breakfast.
Blueberry pancakes, eggs over-easy, thick sliced bacon, (slurp)

Biscuits and gravy, Cheesey hashbrowns, Sausage, Grits, Stewed Apples, Ham, and an orange slice. This was just mine and Amy's side of the table.

We ate and we laughed, which made us hungry, so we ate again.

My sisters and I grew up very sheltered. Our dear mother sat behind us with a cup towel while we watched TV and covered the screen if any violence or kissing went on.
So Erin, in all her 34 years has never seen the Thriller video. She said at the exact point every time she tried to watch it, Mom or Gammy made her "turn that filth off". So I educated all of them and played it for them on my laptop. Below is video of them watching it. They were all so into it, they never looked over to see if I was doing...

This is long, but the background music will put you in a good mood. Just watch my mom's reactions. Erin will be giving her dance officianado commentary thruout it's entirety.

WHOO HOOO!!!!!

2008-12-07T20:31:00.003-06:00

Do you know if you push enter trying to move your signature down, it posts? Hmmm. learn something new everyday!

I just got home from my wonderful trip and had a package waiting on me!!

The perfect ending to a perfect weekend. (Well, someone to clean my house after my messy children and pushover husband were here alone would make it COMPLETELY perfect, but you know what I mean.)

So I of course rip my package open and then remember I need to be capturing this on film. So here is the first shot:

It is so pretty and actually I am so pumped about how cute the freakin' box is, I almost forget I have to take pictures. So after I open it, I see a card.
Now, I am no Magnum PI or anything, but I have a limited number of followers from Florida and I am honestly giddy about who I think has gotten my name might have sent. Man oh man, was I right about to get completely verklempt over this (And I am not even Jewish)!!!

I HAVE HIT THE MOTHER LODE OF SSS GIFTS!!!!! WHOO HOO!

Dream Angels Desire perfume and body lotion in a neat little bag AND a book on Patricia Cornwell, who is one of favoritest(yes, that's a word) authors.

I am dancing around and pelvic thrusting and my kids and husband are staring at me like this:

What? You have never seen anyone giddy? Sheesh!

Thank you ,thank you , dear sweet Secret Santa Sister (that I think I know who you are). You have excellent taste. May my poor, unfortunate person who got me be half as excited and happy as I am. I love ya, girl that I think I know...

Worth The Wait

2008-12-05T09:12:00.009-06:00

Okay, okay!!! I know you have been waiting and I promised a post last night...but really this time it wasn't my fault. I went 6 hours away to my mom's last night to surprise Amy for her birthday. Mom and Gene, Amy's husband, and I worked all week on how to pull this off. I had a cancellation in a scheduled meeting and was able to come a day early. But Amy was late arriving, then I couldn't connect to mom's internet and didn't have the energy to use her 1936 computer. SORRY!!!

I wanted all of you to be a part of the party. So push play and when Amy looks at the camera, just yell "SURPRISE" really loud.

WARNING: Do NOT stand near glass when viewing this. Risk of shattered glass may ensue.

Okay, now watch it with no volume and just watch her and Cole's faces.

Not Today- Tonight, Honey.

2008-12-04T09:58:00.002-06:00

I promise to post tonight. I am swamped and don't even have time to read yesterday's posts. Please forgive. I promise tonight will be well worth the wait. (that's what she said)

Guess Who Is FORTY Today

2008-12-03T06:20:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time, forty years ago today, in a small town in Kansas, a little red headed sister was born to her older sister. The mom and dad brought her home to the sister and she loved the new baby from the first time she saw her. She was three, but very astute.

The sisters grew up inseperable, joined at the hip like conjoined twins, doing everything together. They laughed, they danced, they made up skits and entertained their family every night. They sang to Donny Osmond and Sean Cassidy and did one another's hair and make up. They even looked alike and were often mistaken for one another.

They slept together ever chance they got, even though they each had their own rooms. Every night they would race to the bed, because, as everyone knows, the last one in bed had to turn out the light. Every night since they could remember, the little sister always had to turn out the light. And when she walked to the other side of the room to flip the switch, the older sister would giggle and snort awaiting her little sister's return to hte bed in the dark. Just as little sister was about to lay her head down, older sister would jerk out her pillow and throw it across the room. Older sister would become hysterical, thinking this was the funniest thing in the world. They would laugh and laugh until they heard their mom say, "GIRLS!!"

One night, when the sisters were 12 and 9, the nighttime ritual had started. The race, the loser walking to turn thelight off, the winner in bed stifling the giggle, allready gripping her sister's pillow. The little sister sat and began to lay down. The pillow went flying across the room. The burst of laughter escaped the older sister's lips. The little sister reaches down beside the bed and pulls up another pillow stating, "I have a spare!" Older sister laughed so hard that snot flew out of her nose.

The girls grew up and were maids of honor in each other's weddings and were there when each child was born. They continued to confuse people with their uncanny similarity by wearing the same outfit to many parties and even having the same hairstyle, even confusing their children.

Little sister is her big sister's very best friend. They talk on the phone nightly and text each other every chance they get. Big sister would not know what she would do without little sister. Big sister loves little sister very very much. This will never end.

This is little sister. She is old today.

Happy Birthday, Aimless!!!! I love you.

Name-dropping and Teeny Tiny Foreigners

2008-12-02T07:13:00.000-06:00

I just want to say that the people you meet on a cruise and share almost meal with, become your "family" on the ship. We sat at a table that had the most AWESOME couples and just fell in love with them. I even was more pumped to go to dinner than normal, just to laugh and visit with these people. I apologetically name-dropped some of YOUR names when they told us which state they lived in. Sorry if you wanted to remain anonymous.

This is Morris and Donnette from Connecticut. They didn't know you, Nikki Crumpet. But their dogs HAD heard of your dogs.

Another couple was from Ohio. They didn't know you, Jules, but they were wonderful, so you need to look them up. The last couple was from Puerto Rico. I have no blog buds from there, so everyone is safe. I don't have pictures of them since I always had too much wine at dinner and totally forgot to snap one. Sorry.

At St Thomas, which, yes AFF, was totally the shiznik, we went on a tour with a group of ladies on another ship that were from England. They were hysterical and even when they said things like, "What is that building?" or "It is so hot here," I was cracking up at them. Their accent was so great. I could have listened to them all 7 days. Plus, they told us when they went back to their ship, we were "a delightful couple". Smart and funny. Perfect combo.

I really think there is something wrong with me. Just riding in van for the short tour with these ladies, I was talking like them, using the same inflections and verbage they used. I couldn't help it. It was getting on Rick's last nerve and when I would talk, he would jerk his head to look at me with this wide-eyed frown on his face. I would just look at him and in my best English accent I would say, "What?" Then for the rest of the day I said "spot of tea" and "smoke a faggot" like a million times. I was freakin' hilarious and cracking myself up.

We gambled every night and won and lost and won and lost, but it was quite entertaining. I had this favorite machine and spent most of my time on it, feeding it all my money. On Wed. I went to go sit at MY machine and there was this tiny little Puerto Rican lady sitting there. Poor thing. It was a nickle machine, but I had played it so much, I knew when to bet a nickle on one line or all 9 lines. But she didn't. She had no clue what she was doing and was betting one nickle on one line. For an hour. I hovered. I sighed and gave her the 'get-off-my-machine-you-tiny-little-woman' look. I even asked her if she would be playing it all night. She, of course, spoke no English and just glared at me. I was literally Jonesing to get on that machine, and with turtle like movements she pushed one button and drove me INfreakinSANE. So, after an hour, I gave up and went and threw away $40 on another machine.

The next night, I literally ran down to the casino, thinking that freakishly teeny woman was NOT going to take my machine tonight. I rounded the corner, digging my twenty out of the front my bra and came to screeching halt. There she sat, only now she was accompanied by her freakishly tiny husband. She looked up and gave me the stink eye and I slinked off. The rest of the week, I would see her during the day and we would glare at one another, then look at our watches to see if the casino was open yet. I would be there at 3pm to play my machine and she ALWAYS beat me there. I think she was slipping thru cracks like a mouse to get to that damn machine. That is the only explanation there is. I would see her sitting in a chair up on the deck and so I would take the stairs to the casino, only to find her already there. I was beginning to think there were 2 of her. Or she was magic. But she never won, so she wasn't magic. I don't think. She stressed me out the rest of the cruise.

Speaking of stressing me out, my daughter Kalee told Grayson, who is now THREE, "Grayson, you are stressing me out." Ten minutes later, he said to me,"GiGi, you are stretching me out." So that is now the way we will say it. Don't stretch me out. I need a drink, I am stretched out. God, I LOVE that kid.

A Couple of Pictures

2008-12-01T07:16:00.000-06:00

Now that everyone has gone home and I can come out of the kitchen, I am now checking back into Blogland. I.AM.NEVER.COOKING.AGAIN. Okay, at least not until Monday night. We cooked 3 deep fried turkeys and had 2 honey baked hams. I cooked all day Tuesday because I had patients to see all day Wed, and finished Wednesday evening with all the cooking. I was so flippin' tired on Thursday, that I hardly ate. Which was good because I had gained probably 10 lbs. on the cruise.

Speaking of cruise....

Since you asked, here a couple of pictures from our trip:

This is a picture of our ship. Don't ask me which dock/island we were in.

Dana Wyzard is so popular and famous that she has her own store in St Maarten. By the way, Dana, the girl that you had working that day wouldn't give me that discount I told her you said I could have. Fire her.

This was a beach we visited. We had taken a tour and didn't have a chance to lay out and tan. Heh heh. Like I would do that anyway.

Rick was ready to go tan but I made him pose for a picture. And no, I am NOT pregnant. It just looks like it

This is wear I had to pee. I couldn't take a picture of the other side because IT WAS A HANGING OFF A FREAKING CLIFF. I was wondering why there was sunlight coming thru the floorboards.

This was St Thomas from the peak that I watched Rick climb to take a picture. marrying a mountain climber has it's perks. No, people, It was a trail. No ropes or picks were needed. I waited on level ground and sweated. HEY!! Waiting is tiring.

No idea where this is. Ummm, Curacao?

This is definitely Curacao. Maybe.

I actually married this ~~weirdo~~ man that PAID some dreadlock dude to pose with his boa.

This was a formal night. I was just waking from a food coma I had eaten myself into. And no, I am not pregnant here either.

I standing here with my erection. Okay, really, it's my drawstring. Note to self: Don't tie you damn drawstring over your huge ginormous pudge. It makes you look like you a have a hard-on.

Does this life vest make my face look fat?
Take note of the light that is over my left boob...

Please note where Rick's hand is strategically placed. Over this light that about the size of a nipple. The man could not quit twisting it the entire time he had that damn vest on. I would clear my throat and nod to let him know that he was still titty-twisting. He would stop until I turned my head then again with the rolling it in his fingers. I think I even saw him lean his head back and close his eyes. He is a sicko.

This was in our hotel in San Juan. I had just said, "Don't let me leave the camera. I HAVE to take pictures for my Peeps." So Mr. Funny decides to snap one of me undressing. I am sure I am saying, "Darling, precious, don't take one of me, pretty please." or something like that...

Okay. I WENT on the freakin' trip and I am bored, so I will add more later. Hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving. I am so glad it's over and I am so not looking forward to puting up all the Christmas decorations that are down from the attic and sitting on my office floor. I just don't have the energy.

Ghost Ship

2008-11-25T18:11:00.003-06:00

Thanks Amelia for filling in for me on Thurs last week and totally cracking me up with the albino picture of me. I owe you big time. Really. Big time. Really big.

I am finally getting my computer back from my freakin' kids that are home for the holidays. Jerks. Just kidding. They are wonderful precious souls. Just kidding. I could go on forever, so let's get on with the show......

The Royal Caribbean ship, Adventure of the Sea, is now known as the place where all famous people who have died go. Seriously.

I saw many famous people, but Rick and his "you can't just take a picture of strangers" philosophy was ringing in my ears ALL.THE.DAMN.TIME. and I never had my freakin' camera when they were around. Except one day....

So when he went to the bathroom while on St Thomas, I took one of Sadam Hussein yelling at his wife.

There was also Desi Arnez Sr (Ricky Ricardo), Hitler (only his famous moustache was under his bottom lip), and Gilda Radner. All of them were there. And I was an absolute idiot when they were around me. By the way, Desi's wife hated me and thought I was ready to jump the old guys bones.She gave me the stink eye every time I saw them. And he wore fish net mesh tank tops. A big turn off for me.

Since we boarded out of San Juan and apparently they offered a special to Puerto Rican folks, any English speaking person was the minority. Peurto Ricans are very sweet and VERY LOUD.

They know how to have a good time, but they all travel together, all 25 members of their family. And they all stayed on our end of the ship. On our deck. And opened and closed their door 500,000 times in a 24 hour period.

Tiff and Deb jinxed me. They, along with 5 million other screaming teenie-boppers have talked non-stop about the damn Twilight series, Edward, Bella, yada yada yada. So at the airport, I am scanning the bookstore waiting to throw out 20 bucks for the cheesey paperback that will take up the couple of hours on the plane I will not be sleeping when I see it. There on the top shelf is Twilight. I smiled and looked around hoping there was something that would persuade me to buy it. I wasn't going to fall victim to this rage. I was going to be the one and only human with a vagina on the planet that had not read the stupid book about stupid vampires falling in love with a stupid girl.

I am hooked. Jerks.

Tomorrow holds non-stop patient care and cooking at night to prepare for the 35 people that will be coming for Thanksgiving. So I will be back on Friday. Everyone take the week off so I can catch up with you guys!!!!!

"We Apologize For Any Inconvenience This Delay May Cause You"

2008-11-24T12:25:00.007-06:00

Let me go down on record by saying that a perfectly wonderful vacation can be pissed away on the flight home

WHEN...

1. The plane you are scheduled to fly across the ocean on has 1.5 hours worth of maintenance prior to your boarding it.
2. That 1.5 hour of NECESSARY maintenance made you miss your connecting flight.
3. You are put up for the night in a hotel that has ONE person driving the shuttle to and from the airport to pick up the 60 some-odd stranded passengers and because you are pushed and shoved out of the way, don't make it to your hotel room until after midnight.
4. You have no clean clothes because you have checked everything in your carry on that was of necessity for the duty-free booze and cigarettes you purchased for Christmas presents prior to knowing that you MIGHT NEED that make up and deodorant because nothing says Merry Christmas like Cirrhosis of the Liver and Lung Cancer.
5. You have received a meal voucher and, again, because it is after midnight, don't get to use it because the hotel restaurant is closed.
6. The hotel restaurant doesn't open until 6:30am, but your flight leaves at 7am...meaning no breakfast either.
7. When finally arriving to your destination city to find out your luggage is lost.
8. If I hear one more person tell me they are sorry because they inconvenienced me I.WILL.CHOKE.THEM.
9. And my ankles swelled because I think I am in renal failure and now have Congestive Heart Failure from all the alcohol consumed...
10. But, I am back.

WHOO HOO!!!!

I am home!!!!

Let me catch my breath and find my camera. I have so much to share.

Preview:
1. The ship we sailed on was haunted.
2. Tiff and 3D- you cursed me, I know you did!!!!

Confused?! I will fill you in tomorrow. Or tonight, if I get my act together.

Me Me Meme

2008-11-21T08:06:00.001-06:00

Remember, this was written a week prior to you reading this. I have 6 posts to do before I leave for my trip, so I am deperate and don't want you to forget me. This a meme I borrowed from a LOT of you, but the latest one was Deb. So, for your insomnia:

1. Where is your cell phone? purse (who knows where that is)
2. Where is your significant other? kitchen
3. Your hair color? red (no, I don't color it)
4. Your mother? sad (she misses my daddy so much)
5. Your father? Heaven
6. Your favorite thing? Blogging (and the grandkids)
7. Your dream last night? nothing
8. Your dream/goal? bill-less
9. The room you’re in? Family Room
10. Your hobby? decorating
11. Your fear? Alzheimer's
12. Where do you want to be in six years? here
13. Where were you last night? Salt Grass
14. What you’re not? skinny (see above)
15. One of your wish list items? Lottery
16. Where you grew up? Borger
17. The last thing you did? walked (I know I am shocked, too!)
18. What are you wearing? sweater
19. Your T.V.? flat
20. Your pet? Andy
21. Your computer? worshipped
22. Your mood? satisfied (is that a mood?)
23. Missing someone? Daddy
24. Your car? Nissan
25. Something you’re not wearing? shoes (yes, I am wearing panties, thanks for asking)
26. Favorite store? Farmhouse
27. Your Summer? hot
28. Love someone? Yes
29. Your favorite color? chocolate
30. When is the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? today (I am versatile like that)

I know, you wanted more and really don't give a rat's ass about this, but HEY!!! I am on a dang cruise and if I am killed in a violent hurricane, this may be all you have to cling to. I miss you and wish I was home blogging and reading you.

Dear God , please let me get chased by a shar or almost fall overboard or something bloggable for all peep's reading enjoyment. But don't let it hurt. Amen.

The Secret Is Out

2008-11-20T06:00:00.003-06:00

Hi All! This is Amy, aka Amelia Bedelia. For those of you who don't know me, I am Jill Jill Bo Bill's sister. Younger sister, that is. For any of you who have older siblings, I want to first of all say "I'm sorry", if you were tortured and made fun of, like I was. I was pee'd and puked on by my older sister, and still have emotional problems from the pain I felt as a child. Jill is always the center of attention and was always involved in everything. I, on the other hand, felt more comfortable with my little group of friends, and only getting involved if I absolutlely had to. I grew up anwering to "hey, Jill's sister!" My own mother even called me Jill. I learned it was just easier to answer to "Jill" instead of trying to explain that my name was Amy. But good news, younger siblings!! I have Jill's password to her blog! I told her that I'd be "happy" to guest post for her, while she is out of the country, and she was ~~dumb~~ smart enough to give me full access to her blog. SUCKER!

I do have many stories about my sis growing up. I have even posted about them. (For examples, click here and here). But there is one secret that none of you know......Jill wanted to be a Coppertone model. I even gave you an example of her picture she sent in to the Coppertone Company. (Warning: Put your sunglasses on before you view the picture or you will be blinded!)

She was one hot mama, huh? Sorry to say, the Coppertone people didn't agree and she never got the chance to fullfill her dream. So, me, being the nice sister that I am, thought I would give her that chance, to show the world just how hot she is in a bathing suit. So, here you go, Sister! You're welcome. You can thank me later. Wow, she is going to be so surprised when she see's this. I bet she buys me a great Christmas present!I can't wait!

(actually this is Amy!)

You Are Invited

2008-11-19T07:37:00.002-06:00

Dear God,

Please don't ever let this happen to me.

Amen

(click to enlarge)

Wait for it....

wait....

(Okay, click on it to (hee hee) enlarge)

How special. She was able to wear white.

(snort)

I just wanna know what the Mother of the Bride wore.

Tomorrow, Amelia Bedelia, my wonderful sister, will be hiijacking this blog and making you laugh. Be nice and comment a lot. She is a crier.

How to Shower

2008-11-18T07:36:00.000-06:00

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN:
Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according to lights and darks, turning all clothing right-side-out.
Walk to bathroom wearing long robe.
If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.
Look at your womanly physique in the mirror.
Make mental note to do more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc.
Get in the shower. Use wash cloth, long loofah, wide loofah and pumice stone.
Wash your hair once with cucumber and sage shampoo with 43 added vitamins.
Wash your hair again to make sure it's clean.
Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner.
Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red.
Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash.
Rinse conditioner off hair.
Shave armpits and legs.
Rinse off.
Turn off shower.
Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower.
Spray mold spots with Tilex.
Get out of shower.
Dry with towel the size of a small country.
Wrap hair in super absorbent towel.
Return to bedroom wearing long robe and towel on head.
If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.
Give him a little wink and a smile.

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN:
Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed keeping your boxer inside your pants.
If wearing whitie tighties, roll them all the way down your legs until they are a tight twisted rope-like object and kick your legs until they fly off.
Ignore where they land.
Unless it's the ceiling fan, then turn it on and fling them across the room.
Hold hands up in referee formation for field goal.
Leave all clothes in a pile on the floor.
Walk naked to the bathroom.
If you see wife along the way, shake wiener at her making the woo-woo sound.
Look at your manly physique in the mirror.
Flex your non-existatant muscles and turn your head over your shoulder looking at your ass.
Admire the size of your wiener and scratch your butt.
Get in the shower.
Wash your face.
Wash your armpits.
Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse them off.
Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower.
Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.
Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.
Wash your hair. Make a Shampoo Mohawk.
Pee in shower.
Rinse off and get out of shower.
Partially dry off.
Fail to notice the water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub the whole time.
Admire wiener size in mirror again.
Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, and light and fan on.
Return to bedroom with towel around waist.
If you pass wife, pull off towel, shake wiener at her and make the woo-woo sound again.
Throw wet towel on bed as you fart again.
Laugh at how hilarious you are.

THE award

2008-11-17T08:15:00.002-06:00

I was awarded this by one of my favorite bloggers, Jenni at Jiggety Jigg. It's the smorgsboard, the supreme pizza, the Motherlode of all awards. And sweet little funny Jenni said we can make up our own rules. That is my favorite part.

So these are the rules:
Since it is November, The month of Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for you, my friends.
SO.....I am giving you all this award. Unlinked, Because I am (say it with me) LAZY. I mean my Lord, people, look at all of you that I love. Jay, you already got this from Jenni, but FYI, I love you, too.

If your name starts with a/an:

A-Amelia Bedelia, Angela(My Dogumentary)
B-Binks
C-Candid Carrie, Cookies, Choc Covered DD, Coral, Country Girl(Misplaced), ciii
D-Deb(soxy) and Deb(dirty socks)and Deb(Don't judge), Dawn
E-Em, Elaine
F-Farm Blahg, Froggy Bloggy(Justine), Farrago
G-Georgie, Good & Crazy(Carissa), Ginny B's
H-Happy Meals & Happy Hour, Holly(AF) and Holly (June Cleaver)
I-It's Not Always What it Seems (Lisa)
J-Julie, Jennifer Suarez, Janie (Sounding Forth), Jill (Scary Mommy)
K-Krista, Karen(NucMed)
L-Life is Good (Dana), Life of a Nguyener(Amybo),
M-the Mom(Jen), Megryan's Mom, Mamahut, Manic Mariah
N-Nikki Crumpet(look at you with a letter all to yourself)
O-Our J'Ollie Home, Ouisa(Shelley)
P-Pork Chops(Captain-Danielle)
Q-Queen of the Planet Hotflash(Deb)
R-Rhonda, Ronda(the ranter)
S-Short pump Preppy(Linda), Suzann(Lavender&Roses), Swirl Girl, Sid(Sixy mom)
T-Tiffany, Tena
U-U!!!!
V-Very sure I mean, YOU!!
W-Wheezer's Cheese,(A) Woman's Perrogative(Carey Sue)
X-xtra special commenters
Y-yes, YOU!!!
Z- Zilch-I have nothing else, now go share the love.

I miss you guys like crazy!!!

2008-11-14T08:58:00.000-06:00

The Hallelujah Chorus is about to ring out...

81. I am 22 hours from lift off. I am more excited now than I was at the first of the week. I think it's that I don't have work looming over me and my kids will be going to their dad's after school. I have my clothes ready and all I lack is putting them in the suitcase.

82. I am really sad about missing out on blog life for a solid 9 days. It costs $2.45 a minute to use their Internet service, and as many blogs as I read, that would be about $500 a day.

83. That would buy a LOT of souvenirs.

84. On a cruise, the first thing that everyone does is go through a safety drill with our life vests and a escape route if something happens. The vests are huge and you can barely move with them on. Turning your head is next to impossible.

85. Rick was coming down the hall with his vest on and I was waiting at the elevator. I looked back to see him walk past a doorway where a rather large lady was emerging from her room with her vest on as well. The two bumped into one another, or rather their vests bumped and poor little Rick was slammed into the wall. He and his vest bounced off the wall and right back into the puffy lady with the puffy vest. This bumper car dance went on for quite a while as they bumped off each other trying to make their way towards the elevator. That alone was worth every dime we paid for that cruise.

86. I bought this sarong that was like pants and tied on the sides. When we took a catamaran and had free spiked punch for the entire 3 hour boat ride, I wore this sarong. I also had to pee like 5 times during that excursion and each trip to the loo got more and more difficult due to the consumption of the hooch-laced punch. I had to have help tying myself up and made many friends that trip.

87. I celebrated my 40th birthday in a private dining room with a view of the most gorgeous sunset I had or would ever see again. Rick had made every effort to make it unforgettable. I am pretty sure he and God struck a good deal for that sunset to be so perfect.

88. I have pictures somewhere of Rick and I on the night we were to wear Titanic (Uh, yeah. I thought the same thing...) costumes. They furnished for the pictures the big hats and boas for the girls, and the guys got top hats and canes. The hat Rick was given was a tad large. I looked up after donning my accessories to see Rick, who by this time was slightly inebriated, standing and waiting with this top hat which was sitting on his ears, folding them down, oblivious to how ridiculous he looked.

89. I have never burst out laughing as hard as I did when I saw him. He reaches over a slaps my butt and the photographer snaps a picture. The picture of us actually posed shows that hat and me hysterical with the ugly crying face. I only bought them because I was afraid they would end up in someone's email entitled "These People Are Why The Titanic Sunk".

90. When we returned and the kids were looking through the pictures, they found them. After they finished laughing and picked themselves off the floor, Matt, a friend of my son, says, "Rick, you look like Fievel on 'Fievel Goes West'." Same ear/hat relationship. same goofy look on face. I promise I will look for that picture when I get back.

91.Both Rick and I gained weight that trip. We both had to suck in to get into the clothes that had fit us 11 days earlier. Had something to do with free food, open buffets, anything you wanted to eat at the scheduled 8pm dinner, and those desserts...those 12 inch tall, fancy, spiral-ly, chocolate-y masterpieces. And the midnight buffet.

92. So this trip, I am planning ahead. I have a set of my fat, fatter, and fattest clothing just in case I want to eat myself into a coma.

93. I know they spend lots of time and energy while making my cruise even more fun, but I have issues tipping my housekeeper a small fortune for making my towels into animals wearing my sunglasses. I don't tip my housekeeper at a hotel and they fold my toilet paper in a sweet little point. But I guess I am a cheapskate. (The cruise line suggests $120 for EACH attendant. That would be your waiter, your house keeper, your valet-bell-boy guy, the head chef, and the supervisor OVER the head chef.) I am thinking I am in the wrong business.

94. I think I may be getting a UTI. Could be that I drank WATER the other day in the car when I was coughing up cotton and Rick let me drink his. My body, not used to that foreign substance, went into shock. Either that or the water flushed out something and disturbed what had been working for months.

95. It helps to have doctor friends for prescription call-ins. When we took our vacation to Tahoe, everyone but Me and John David got the stomach virus. I had to call my friend to call in a family size bottle of Lomotil. Thank God that hotel did not charge us per flush. With 4 rooms of people pooping and puking for 24 hours, we would've had to take out a loan.
96. Because you asked, I will give you step-by-step instructions on the construction of the hot glued window treatments when I get back. I know you will be waiting with baited breath.

97. Just FYI: The new house keeper that tried out yesterday did a good job. It only took me ten minutes to rearrange the chotskis she had dusted and placed in a straight line across my bookcases.

98. I have a million last-minute errands to tie up all the loose ends to finish preparing for this trip. I have to take Andy to the kennel, pick up the dry cleaning, pick up Cooper's medicine, pick up my check, get the kid's uniforms for school to their dad's, find Rick some more shorts, and most importantly, get a pedicure.

99. I am scraping the bottom of the information barrel to finish these last twenty. And honestly, I am distracted by the huge list of To-Dos looming. But I do want you all to know how much I appreciate you and your loyalty to me. When I talk to people, I always brag about you as my friend. My South Carolina friend, my Oklahoma friend, my Louisiana, Ohio, Florida, Wisconsin, Massachusetts, Texas, California, Colorado, Alaska, Hawaii, Utah, Kansas, Indiana, etc. friend. Yep, I talk about y'all, but only in a good way.

100. With all the mush I can muster I will miss each and every one of you and your wonderful blogs. Usually the trip home after a long vacation is filled with dread about returning to reality. Know that I will be on pins and needles, ready to attack my poor unsuspecting computer, to read up on all I have missed. My sister Amelia Bedelia will be filling in for me on Thurs.(Don't forget, Aimless!!!) And I have come up with 4 other posts and scheduled them, so you won't forget about me. I love you all!!!!

If I don't return, I have taken the position that Julie held on the Love Boat. I will let you know how Gopher is in the sack....

I Swear We Are Almost Done

2008-11-13T09:05:00.000-06:00

Almost done. The punishment ends tomorrow. Well, after the last 20.

Okay , just like Die Hard and Rocky- the saga continues:

61. I raised sheep in 4H for my project when I was a youngster. In case you don't know, sheep are the stupidest animals out there.

62. I placed 5th in my class (that is bad, for you non-4H-ers out there), but made almost $300 more than the Grand Champion in the sale every year because the bidders were friends of my parents.

63. I was the outcast in 4H from then on. Sore losers...

64. I was inconsolable when they took my lambs to the trailer after the first sale, so my mom told me that the Jay Childers (the buyer friend) had a beautiful pasture where Barney would frolic and play with tons of lamb friends.

65. I found out the truth when I was 17 at a family get-together when, as lamb chops were being served, my daddy said, "Would you like a piece of Barney?" I laughed and said in all innocence, "I wonder how all my lambs are doing. It's been like 5 years. I bet they are huge now." Everyone at the table stopped mid-air, frozen like statues and stared.

66. I have never eaten lamb since.

67. I have a new house cleaning lady coming today to "try out" for what is known in the house keeper's circle as the easiest job in the world.

68. I used to clean my house BEFORE my house keeper gets here because I didn't want to be known around town as a pig.

69. I also gave her clothes and shoes and gave her free access to my refrigerator. So they came to my house to drink Diet Coke, get gently used clothes and shoes for free, and get paid.

70. Things are different now. I am changing. Turning over a new leaf.

71. I am out of Diet Coke. She will have to drink water.

72. I actually completed my dining room window treatments yesterday. (Wanted to make a good impression for the new house keeper...)

73. I burned each finger print off with my hot glue gun.

74. I can now begin my life of crime and will never be found out.

75. I didn't line my new drapes. But the use of fringe makes up for that in my opinion.

76. When John David was 8, he got a new BB gun (I wanted to teach him early). I told him what ever he shot and killed he had to eat to keep the demise of birds to a minimum.

77. He not only killed a bird, but shot his brother in the ass. His BB gun license was revoked soon after.

78. Two years later, he shot out the neighbors plate glass window while shooting at their tree. The BB ricocheted off the tree and hit the window. That lesson of physics for him cost me $325.

79. I never made him eat that bird he killed.

80. I did make him eat the glass picture window though. He now works in a circus as their main act.

Hee Hee

The Post AKA Lunesta

2008-11-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

Just when you thought time flies when you read blogs, here's 20 more: (HEY!!! I heard that- "Holy crap it's only Wednesday and we have two more days of this!?!")

41. I sat down to watch Biggest Loser with a cheeseburger and fries....Do ya think I have issues?
42. I want to go down on record saying that I cannot stand Vicki on that show.
43. My niece has already asked to come back. We told her "No".
44. After my niece left in August, we had to have the security system guy come and redo the entire left side of the house because she had disconnected it. It cost us $250 for her to sneak out all summer.
45. I miss the good part of my niece horribly bad. I refuse to tolerate the bad part of her.
46. At times, I still have major guilt over the fact I couldn't help or change her. But not bad enough to take her back.
47. Claire has a new boyfriend and he is so cute and wonderful.
48. When Rick pretended to be tough and asked him what his intentions were with his daughter, he responded, "I am in the eighth grade! I have no intentions." I am lovin' that kid!
49. At times, my kids getting along get on my ever-lovin' nerves more than when they argue. I have to say things like, "Quit laughing," or "Keep your head off her/his shoulder" about a gajillion times.
50. At the grocery store last night, they were so hysterical, they both fell into a man and almost knocked him over. I had told them for 10 minutes to quit goofing around. I helped the man and looked at my kids and said, "Go find your mother, kids," and went the other way.
51. I crack myself up sometimes.
52. In high school there was a girl named Helen who was really rough and mean. She hated me. For no reason. She scared the crap out of me. She had threatened to kick my ass one too many times.
53. So I drove home after school and put on my boots (Yes, that would be cowboy. Shut it. I live in Texas) because I was much tougher when I had them on. I went back up to where I knew she was and confronted her.
54. She was so shocked that I showed up that she just smiled and got into her truck (Yes, a truck. Remember...Texas) and drove away. She never threatened me again and even waved at me when she saw me.
55. When I got back into my car, I was so relieved I teared up. But only after I drove off. I didn't need her friends to know I was a chicken shit pansy.
56. I went to camp at Hidden Falls Ranch (HFR) every summer from the time I was 10 until I was 16.
57. HFR was on the edge of Palo Duro Canyon (which is comparable to a very mini Grand Canyon) and it was beautiful. The rifle (BB) range was at low point in the canyon, about 2 miles straight down. Racing my friend Marcy to the range, I slipped and slid down what seemed to be one solid mile and scraped my entire right bun and back of my right thigh completely raw. I had the biggest road rash scab known to mankind until the end of camp. It was hell climbing back up out of the canyon every day with a scabby ass.
58. As a camper, I won Sharp Shooter (THE most prestigious BB gun target award given) every year and was never beaten.
59. I sucked at archery though.
60. I had a BB gun hidden behind my seat when I went to go meet Helen that day. I was ready to pop a pellet in her ass.

Annie Oakley
AKA

Back By Demand

2008-11-11T10:07:00.000-06:00

Grab your blankie and snuggle up. For your relaxation and sleep aide, I am giving you 20 more.

This post is a continuation of the 100 bits and pieces of me in celebration of my 100th post. Deb gave this cool little widget of me sitting and looking so realistically thin and tired to commemorate the celebration. Thanks Deb!!!

Alrighty, moving right along...

21. I make a 12 cup pot of coffee every morning and usually drink the entire thing. Rick pours himself a cup and lets it sit...So, actually I only drink an 11 cup pot.

22. I still have no window treatments on my kitchen windows. Or in the dining room. I have the fabric. In my closet. Waiting patiently to become beautiful window coverings.

23. We have lived in our community since last December with no neighbors. Now we have 2 families building down the street. Not sure how I feel about having to be all neighborly now.

24. The family that will be moving in first was at my house EVERY DAY before it was completed. They were getting ideas for their new house. Did I mention they were here before we moved in EVERYDAY looking at my house and making notes?

25. The house down the street is almost exactly like mine. Same Antique Brown hand-scraped hardwood floors. Same tile. Same basic colors. Similar floor plan. I. AM. TAKING. THIS. AS. A. HUGE. COMPLIMENT. LIKE. MY. HUSBAND. TOLD. ME. TO. DO.

26. I snuck in their house to look late Sunday night. Mine is much better. Just sayin'....

27. I have never had issues about sharing ideas, colors, design tricks, whatever. This time I am like a spoiled 14 year old. I am thinking it stems from her "lurkiness" prior to us moving in. It's VERY difficult for me to be the Welcome Wagon. Copy Catter.

28. I am really dreading this trip we are taking next week. I know, I know...I am ungrate and whiney. It isn't the trip itself. It is the timing. We come back at midnight on Sunday, which gives me 3 days to prepare for Thanksgiving. Did I mention I have 35 people coming?

29. I should be concerned about the food. But that is the least of my worries. My main concerns are those damn window coverings. THAT is what I will be doing this week. Screw the dressing and the broccoli rice casserole. My windows will be FABULOUS!!! (Please God, let the hot glue hold up at least thru Christmas. Amen.) Their tummies will be growling, but they can look for the pizza delivery guy out of the wonderful windows.

30. I do not know how to sew. I use bonding tape or hot glue.

31. I have really struggled over what to get my SSS for Christmas.

32. I like Thanksgiving a million times more than Christmas because of the whole gift expectation thing.

33. The best Christmas we ever had as a family was when when we all went skiing in Tahoe. That was everyone's gift. Their presents consisted of scarfs and gloves. That was it. We ate like pigs and I had nothing to exchange at the stores. I wish I could do that every Christmas.

34. I think I have a strange version of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. When watching movies, I miss the whole plot when I am concentrated on the decor of the character's home or their car. I also do that in the romance department. In the throws of passion, I am thinking, 'Crap! Those candles are going to drip on my table,' or 'Man! I need to dust that headboard.'

35. Beer breath is a turn on for me.

36. I have seen Rick drunk 3 times. All 3 times were on our last cruise.

37. He is funny without being drunk, but liquored up- he could do stand-up comedy. He is HILARIOUS.

38. I am going to wear linen the entire trip next week. It's November, but 88 degrees in Aruba. Linen is the only summery clothing I own. And linen is out of season. I am hyper-ventilating over the fact I will not technically be in style.

39. I am planning to drink the entire 7 days we are on the ship. I don't mean wine with my meals either. I have been on this cruise once and seen all the sites sober. I am hoping to be soused the entire time. So if you hear on the news about some drunk broad in linen being removed from the cruise ship and put in an Arubian jail for incessant disorderly conduct, it's me. I am going to live it up.

40. I am lying about the disorderly conduct thing in #39. I am giggler when I am drunk, not disorderly. I am hoping incessant giggling is not illegal. I am scared of jail.

Okay, wake up now. I am finished for today.

Do you think I can be the non-addictive alternative to Ambien CR?

A Fifth for You

2008-11-10T11:20:00.002-06:00

I know you were hoping for alcohol by the title. Sorry to disappoint. But you may want to grab one if you have it close. It may take a couple of swigs to get this one down.

One of the best things about blogging is finding someone you click with, someone that has, or is in the same proverbial boat as you are. Having something in common with someone is the thread that can bind a friendship together forever. I have many common threads woven throughout the blog buddies that I consider friends. Whether it is our age, our parenting, or maybe just the common thread of sense of humor and laughter, the tie is strong.

One of my friends, Swirlgirl, is posting her 100th post today. we share the unfortunate common thread of the loss of fathers in the month of Jan. 08. As I am reading her post today, I become aware of almost identical childhoods, which just strengthens that father-daughter bond, and makes the loss of that relationship harder.

Then I realize it is my 100th post today as well.

So, because I know you are already rolling your eyes and/or thinking, 'OMG what else can this idiot divulge to us?' I won't bore you with 100 frivolous bits of info about me. At least all at one time.

Since it's Monday (which btw, means Mission:Monday. Click on the black box above my profile to enter a contest for a free blog make-over), I will do 20. If there is a request for more, maybe I will do 20 each day this week. If I can think of 20 things about myself I HAVEN'T told you. (They don't call me Ms.TMI for nothin', ya know.)

1. My mom was a meticulous housekeeper. I did not inherit that gene. I have to MAKE myself clean. I love a clean house, but I will pay big bucks to not have to do it myself.
2. I really have laughed so hard that I peed myself on more than one occasion.
3. The first time was when I was 12 and on the back porch of my across-the-street-neighbor Tony's house. I can't remember what happened to make me laugh, but I do remember laughing, getting choked, and almost puking on myself, which caused me to release urine. I left a circle of wetness on the cement as well as my britches and ran all the way home.
4. I am almost sure it had to do with someone hurting themselves. That has always made me laugh the hardest.
5. Yes, I am a nurse. Yes, I still inwardly laugh at the dumb things people do and the injuries they cause. No, I don't laugh when someone is really sick or in a car wreck. That's not funny, even to me.
6. I also TeeTeed my panties when in high school I went roller skating with one of my very best guy friends. Along with all the 11 and 12 year olds there, we were the hit of the rink. It was crazy funny and we actually both wet our pants.
7. I have never colored my hair. I know I have said that before. But I had a 80-something year old woman that used to ask me e.v.e.r.y.t.i.m.e. I saw her if I "put a wrench in my hair". I think she meant rinse, not wrench. I have not. Not even a screwdriver.
8. I never drink water. It's Diet Coke, tea, or coffee. Hey, they all have water in them...
9. Rick's grand daughter, Sarah, when she was 6, gave me a big fat tube of Lip Smacker's strawberry lip gloss for Christmas. I have used it every night for 5 years before I slide into bed.
10. I used to flip out if I wasn't wearing the latest fashion or my house did not reflect the latest trends. Now that I am older, I do what I like, both on my body and in my home.
11. Before Rick and I were married, I put my fist down about the old girlfriend (they dated 6 years) that still was "part of the family" and told Rick and all his family members that it was her or me at the family gatherings. I told them she was more than welcome to visit the family except for holidays/special events. Everyone agreed to it but one of his sisters. My SIL still invites her to everything and even introduces her as her "sister". It is the only conflict I have with his family.
12. Rick had been single for 20 years, I had been married for almost 20 years and was newly divorced, when we started dating. His romantic long-term interests over those 20 years (2), still call him or his family.
13. He has a book keeper who is his mom's age that has had a crush on him for 15 years. She cried and plead her undying love for him when he told her we were getting married. (He had her on speaker phone because when he told me she would freak out, I didn't believe him. Boy, was I wrong!)
14. The last long-term girlfriend, who I will call Tenacious Ho, called Rick on our honeymoon when she drunk and he actually talked to her.
15. We spent one night on our honeymoon sleeping in separate beds.(see #14)
16. I got anything I wanted for the duration of our honeymoon. (see #14 and 15)
17. Rick's lifetime best friend (from when they were 6 years old) was the hiker that was lost on Mt Hood in Dec 2006. They found him frozen to death days before Christmas.
18. Rick was supposed to train for the climb, but thankfully was too busy with work, or he would have been on that mountain with them. They all perished.
19. We lost Kelly(Rick's best friend) in Dec 2006, Rick's dad in June 2007, and my dad in Jan 08.
20. I want to keep all my loved ones in one room so I can watch them every six months since all that happened.

Maybe tomorrow you will get 20 more. Maybe not. That was exhausting.

Crotch Shot

2008-11-08T11:06:00.003-06:00

To the golfers that were playing hole 7 behind my house early this morning:

I apologize for inadvertent crotch shot you received from me. I was trying to enjoy the early morning weather and the steaming cup of coffee when my spasticness caused me to spill my coffee down my new snowman gown and then almost tip backward in my rocking chair.

My OB/GYN told me 20 years ago to not sleep in panties to reduce the yeast infections. Just FYI, I have never had a yeast infection since.

I promise any hole(s) shot you got besides the anticipated one on the golf course, was just lucky for you. I normally do not give them out if I am not wearing your ring. Please forgive me and do not expect any further shows.

I am now taking my overweight self with 3rd degree burns inside to put on pants and have facial reconstruction surgery in case I see you at the grocery store. But I am pretty sure you weren't looking at my face.

Sincerely,

B&M Friday...Fun for all...NOT

2008-11-07T10:00:00.003-06:00

It's Friday.

It's 3 days after the 2008 Presidential Election.

It's time for the arguing to stop.

And there is one particular group of people I blame.

As a mom of a freakin' tribe, I have heard enough bickering and name-calling to choke a horse.

In the morning, the yelling of "Quit taking my Bagel Bite!" and "Stop touching me!" ring loudly through our walls. Oh, wait, that's me yelling that. The kids are arguing over who got the last of the milk and the intentional putting up the cereal knowing the other child wants some. (The only time they put up anything!!!) The fighting continues on news stations. Please people, I just want to see what temperature it's going to be today!!!

During the day, I hear my employees griping about so-and-so getting more patients or the families wanting their aide at their home at 8am, not 8:30. I hear arguing among family members of my patients. I listen to the bickering at the office. Rick justifiably has complaints about his contractors not paying him because they have no money. And that's just by 10am.

Think back in your life and I am sure you can pinpoint that one particular person who always was in whatever dissension was looming, but never in the spotlight. They get it started, then fade into the background, grabbing their popcorn and sitting back to watch the show. They play both sides against the middle and love every minute of it.

I call those people "shit-stirrers". Just in case my mom is reading this, (repetitive cussing makes her nervous) I will call those people The SS Gang. I blame them for everything.

I despise these people. I avoid these people. I unfortunately have people belonging to The SS Gang in my family. I raised a SS gang member for 3 years. These people are vicious, and yet may not even realize what they do. I want to think it's a learned behavior, but am not sure.

The media is the largest and most recognizable SS gang today. They make a living stirring and they take great pride and win prizes for being the best stirrer.

Just when I thought we could all agree to get along for the sake of our country, the SS media brings to light (because we as The People have the right to know) all the bickering among the Republicans. Please, whether I deserve to know or not, I DON"T CARE!!!!!! Let's focus on reality and move forward. I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony. I'd like to buy the world a coke(diet for me) and keep it company.(or whatever that last line says...remember I think I am getting Alzheimer's.) So grab your long dress and head for the hilltop so we can all hold hands.

The SS Gang has pushed me over the edge. I have sat by for too long hoping it would all be over soon and go away.I can't take it anymore. I am officially going on strike and putting a bullhorn up to my ear and blowing it. I have said before that I envied Marlee Matlin. People who are hearing impaired have it so good now. Now seeing all the conflicts on TV, I am ready to poke my eyes out with a sharp pointy stick. When will it stop?!

Helen Keller is so lucky.

A Little Dab Will Do Ya

2008-11-06T07:59:00.003-06:00

I went to Big Lots and found what has been missing in my life.

Just a little with your toast and jam...

For the PLUMBERS or the JUNKIES:

Multiple Uses.

Same GREAT flavor.

Now my life is complete. Thanks, Big Lot!

The Ants Go Marching

2008-11-05T07:58:00.003-06:00

Thank you so much for all the birthday wishes you sent Rick's way yesterday!!!

Last night after his birthday dinner, we drove thru our automatic gate that has had issues since we moved in, Rick had me drop him off to turn off the sprinklers and check the gates.

Fifteen minutes Rick comes in freaking out, telling me he has been attacked by ants. I am stripping off his clothes, thinking this is not how I pictured this evening of birthday sex. (Well, the ant part). He jumps into the shower, I grab the Benadryl , and he begins to re-enact the attack. He is telling how they climbed on his flashlight and somehow got onto his face. They stung his lips wrists and hands. I am picking up his clothes with a hanger so I don't have to take the chance of one of those SOB's getting on me, making me scream and move fast.

His upper lip swelled and he was still able to breathe, but he soon tired out as I made him recite "Popcorn shrimp, sweet 'n' sour shrimp, coconut shrimp" over and over to make me laugh. His upper lip was enormous and he kept trying to talk all serious about stuff and I had to close my eyes when I turned my head to listen to him. I couldn't look. Nothing he was saying was sinking in. I just kept seeing Martin Short in Pure Luck as he swelled after his bee sting. Compassion is not my strong suit.

He is fine today and he left for work with a smile plastered on his face, thanking his lucky stars it wasn't my lips that were swollen last night...

Men and bugs. sigh...

It's Going To Be A Good Day!!!!

2008-11-04T08:13:00.008-06:00

It's Rick's birthday!!!! He is the most wonderful father, step-father, and husband in the world!

He works like he is 24, and sometimes complains like he's 97.

He makes me laugh so hard, and makes me cry because of the wonderful things he does.

He still brings me flowers and makes my tummy quiver when he calls me to tell me he loves me.

He still stares at me and tells me I am beautiful.

He can't see worth crap, but I believe he thinks I'm still hot.

He still kisses me when we wake up and when he gets home from work.

He ALWAYS kisses me goodnight.

I love and adore this man with all I am. And that's 30 lbs more than when I married him.

I am trying to get him to play hooky with me today, but he's all responsible and mature. sigh.

Except when it comes to gadgets.

I got him night vision goggles to be all CSI-like.

He and my twelve year old are giddy.

SCORE!!!!!

Always take a twelve year old boy to help buy your husband's gift.

If the kid loves it, it's a winner.

When the 13 yr old daughter will pose and slightly smile with you, you are a winner!

Happy Birthday, my Darling!!!!

I love you!!!

MISSION MONDAY MADNESS

2008-11-03T05:52:00.005-06:00

Good Morning!!! Just a quick commercial before the real stuff about your Mission Assignment. (Are you confused? I was, too...just do what I did and act like you know exactly what is going on. It will all make sense in a second...after the advertisement.)

As one of Mission:Monday's first Secret Agents (which, by the way, when the song "Secret Agent Man" came out, I thought for years they were singing "Secret Asian Man") being featured in this GREAT contest , I want to welcome you if you are a first-time reader.

If you are a regular, the door is always unlocked for you. Now grab a broom and sweep the entry, please. Just kidding. I meant a mop. Just kidding. I did clean like a foreigner this weekend and you could eat off my floors. I even had sweat marks under my boobs. I was so proud. Rick, because he has connections with all the cool gadgets related to flooring, bought me a backpack vacuum cleaner.

Say What?!?

Yep! You read that right. A BACKPACK VACUUM CLEANER. I look like a damn Ghost Buster. Dust bunnies live in fear. Grass and hair run for their lives when they see me coming. Bill Murry and Dan Ackroyd are green with jealously.

Who Ya Gonna Call?

DIRT BUSTERS

(Ignore the new-still-rolled-up-rug on the left. I am waiting until Andy goes to live with my MIL so he won't christen it.)Does this backpack vacuum make my butt look big? Maybe my pouty lips will distract your eyes from my enormous ass. Clean is SEXY!!!FYI: Looking mysterious makes you have 34 chins. Note the strategically placed straps that secure your bosoms AND your pudge, making you feel like a cleaning terrorist. This rig can suck a sock up in 0.2 seconds.
It does get a little scary on the stairs since my fat ass AND the backpack vacuum tend to make me off-balance more than usual. So I back down the stairs like a blind 107 year old. But my stairs are white glove friendly, which is a rarity here. Okay....drumroll, please.........

Now for the entertaining and important things:

To play MISSION: Monday and enter the giveaway:STEP 1. Have you filled out a Mr. Linky yet? (Important!!) If not, go to Halftimelessons or dirty socks and pizza to do so. This enters you in the giveaway as well.STEP 2. Find the answer to the question to each of the 3 blog posts listed there.STEP 3. You do not have to post the answers to the questions anywhere, just know them if you are selected in the giveaway drawing Monday night, because the winner of the drawing will be contacted for the answers!!

You found me!! I have been featured on "MISSION: Monday" by Deb and Jay at Dirty Socks and Pizza and HalftimeLessons! The idea behind their weekly promotion and giveaway is to bring focus to great (I swear Jay made me say that word) blogs like mine...so now that you found me, here is my question you will need to know the answer to if you win the weekly drawing:

What big project did my sister just complete?

Find the answer to my question in my blog somewhere on this current page (and leave me a comment...I love 'em and depend on them just as the air I breathe!), and make sure you visit the two blogs to find their answers! If Deb and Jay pull your name as the winner of the weekly contest, you will need to know all three blog answers!

This week the MISSION: Monday prize is a small custom order tote from Carissa's A Lot, valued at $32, to hold all of your secret agent gadgets. In addition, the winner will have her/his blog used as a feature blog in the next week's Mission!!

And while you are at it, make sure you add me to your blogroll, and visit me often, or come and comment 7 or 8 times a day!! I often do much less graphic photography. Plus, I hardly ever clean.

MAN!!!!! I am so miffed that I can't win this bag!!! (I can't, right?) Carissa makes the most UNBELIEVABLY ADORABLE bags! Carissa, if you have one just laying around, with no one to love and adore it and slobber all over it, I will gladly take it off your hands. WHAT?! I can purchase one? Well, how cool!!!! With Christmas coming, maybe my SSS would order me one!!!!

So answer my question, people and head over to the links above and let's all have a giant love fest!!! I will bring pretzels and the vacuum for the clean up.

Secret Asian jill jill bo bill signing out......(I have to shorten that name. It's not very threatening.)

Mucho Gracias

2008-11-01T23:26:00.006-05:00

How blessed am I? I have received many a wonderful thing from my Buds here on the Blog.

I received this super cute and oh-so-detailed card from one of my Favs, Dana, on the day I arrived home from my trip. It was the cherry of my week. It is lumpy and ribbon-y and layered with material and paper and has these cool little candy-like buttons. It weighs about 5 lbs and I LOVE it. I love you, too, Dana. Thank you ,thank you, thank you. (See, who said whining wouldn't get you anything?) BTW, you have gorgeous handwriting.

I have been awarded this great award by Deb, who was my first crush, and AmyBo, who I met when I saw her on someone I was reading and flipped out that I had stole her name and she was going to kick my ass. But she didn't and now we are in love as well. I think someone else has named me for this award, but alas I am in the first stages of Dementia and can't remember where I read that you bestowed it upon me. Remember, I am a pud and have no memory. That's why I am great confidant. I never remember to tell any secrets. Seriously. Please accept my apologies, whoever you may be. Deb and AmyBo know I am in need of reminders and do so accordingly. So, here it is:

-Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
-Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.

-Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains The Award.

-Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!

-Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

This is the worse part of receiving an award....picking 5 people that I think deserve this. Since I have been out of the loop for week, I am not sure who has or has not received this award. So, if you are reading this, you are undoubtedly Superior, and if you have a blog, then you qualify for a Scribbler. So please take it and pass it on.

Just a little FYI: My mom is becoming computer-savvy, which to her means she can turn it on and send emails. She is using my Daddy's old email that says Joe K********. So today when I check my personal email, my heart skips a beat. I haven't received anything from my Daddy since Jan 1st, 2008, 4 days before his death. Seeing that still has my nerves on edge. I know. I am weird.

Anyway, my mom sends me pictures of the puppy she is thinking of getting. Gus,who I got for HER, has chewed the rocking part on one of my outdoor rocking chair off. He has since gone to live with one of my employees. Can you hear the Hallelujah Chorus ringing out now? Oh yeah, it's ringing loud and clear. And my back porch enjoyment hasn't changed. I just switched chairs with Rick.

Thanks girls!!! You are all the BEST!

Micheal Phelps and A Ladybug

2008-11-01T13:57:00.008-05:00

I have pix of the grandbabies!!!! Just a quickie to show off and to make you laugh with a shot I took of Grayson.

We saw the babies after they endured a hard night of Trick or Treating. Poor Grayson was scared by this meanie that answered his door with this mask that would have scared Vincent Price. So, after that, he sat in the car while the rest of the kids went to get his candy for him. Kaydi Jo had spit up on her costume, but we were able to salvage the lady bug tutu and her antennas(antennae?) She was the cutest 7 month old lady bug I have ever seen!!! My mom thought so, too. She and Gammy hogged her all night. (sigh. That elder respect blah blah blah)

Grayson went as Michael Phelps. When you asked him who he was, he would answer, "MichaelPhelps", as one word. When I answered the door, there he stood with his swim cap crushing his skull and making him look like a Cromagnum Man, smashing his forehead down.

How funny is this shot? AHHHH! Relief! With the swim cap off, he is showing his 8 gold medals.

Hope you had a great Halloween and got lots of goodies!!! Now I am off to rummage through my kid's sacks. Thank God Claire can't eat chocolate...