Me and Rosalee

     Many of you remember our dear old companion Rudy, our wonderful old lab who was the main character of a couple of poo flinging blogs.  We had to say good night to our lovely friend last summer after he lived to a ripe old age of 13.  Having experienced the heart wrenching pain of losing animals to age and illness, I vowed, Never Again !   As children do, they move on rather quickly, and just as fast decided another dog would be a fantastic idea.  My resilience not to mention my common sense was strong.  I would not allow myself to be pulled in...after all, we already had a menagerie of pets.  Among our furry residents are, 2 cats, 2 hamsters, 2 fish, 1 rabbit and 1 corn snake.  Just as every superhero has some type of weakness that brings him to his knees, so do parents.  My weakness happens to be my childrens sweet little faces and persuasive words.  Words like.....we'll clean up after it,  we'll walk it, oh, and let's not forget the classic..."You won't have to do anything!"

     I relented, we would begin to search.  I had specifications though...No more big dogs and this dog must be able to be litter box trained.  One month of searching led us to our Rosie, the 2lb. black puggle.  I thought' " how hard could this be?  she's the size of a large rat.."  I was determined, this would be a success. She fit right in the litter box and to my amazement she actually peed in it.  I was so proud and impressed with my own brilliance.  This was gonna work!  Time went on as time does and our little angel decided the litter box was not an exciting option.  Maybe perhaps my light green carpeting reminded her of a spring day.  Without warning the floodgates were released, puddles began to appear out of no where, as if my livingroom floor were springing leaks.

    I was convinced she was conspiring against me.  I would subtly walk up to her in an attempt to apprehend this pee pants pup.  She would run as if to taunt the big lady in pursuit of her.  Where were all these sweet faced children who promised to care for this crazy beast?  Oh yeah, there they were giggling as we attempted to wrangle to rogue canine.  I have had to train myself to outsmart her almost like a FBI agent on a top secret mission.  We are in the process of converting her to our thinking, I think we might be gaining an upper hand.  I"ll keep you updated, but, until then I must go, I think I hear my pee timer going off........

A Handful Of Things I Thought You'd Want to Know and Probably More That You Didn't

In the fine tradition of chatting it up about one's self and all the narcissism I could muster, I thought I'd tell you all about me.  These thoughts are in no particular order but are rather random as they pop into my head....here goes...

1.  I detest British television....I know..many of you love Downton Abbey and the like but I tend to prefer non thinking television more the likes of TMZ.

2.  I'm noticing more and more people are walking past me in the sunrise of my 43rd year saying things like  "Hey ! smile! don't be sad !  or Smile...you're beautiful !"  Hey, don't get me wrong it's fun to be told you're beautiful...I just get the sneaking suspicion these comments are more because my eyelids are starting to sag and my cheeks do kind of a bulldog thing.  So, if you see me and I look like a crabby and sad, I'm just needing a little lift and tuck.  I'm a decently happy person except for when I'm not but that's another post....

3.  I have a secret longing for a tattoo, I have actually been wanting one for close to 20 years, I used to want Wonder Woman but now I don't, I really don't know what I would actually choose If I ever did get one, it seems like such an important decision, so final and scary....I know it's not but I really get worked up over stuff like that.

4.  I lived in Puerto Rico for a year when I was 5, then went on to live in a Mexican neighborhood til I was 15.  I spoke spanish until I was 11 but now its a trick to remember what to say, but I still understand most of it...

5.  Celebrity sightings? yeah, I've had a couple.....I once saw Tiger Woods in the lobby of a hotel and couldn't resist going up to him and asking if I could shake his hand ( this was before he was a nasty bird)... he called me "maam" twice...sigh....refer back to #2....sighting #2  I once went to a Menudo press conference and concert when I was 13.  My friend's dad was a photographer and was able to get us in on all the action.

6.  Hanging clothes up outside to dry then bringing them into wear sometimes give me the willies and gives me  itchy spots and imaginations that they'res some random ant crawling up my back.....


well thats all i can think of for now....hope this has somehow added to your reading satisfaction :)

Tales From A Country Road

     I'm a city girl by nature.  For the greater part of my childhood we lived in a little mexican neighborhood.  On the weekends, the street vendors were abundantly scattered throughout the main roads.  You could find on any given corner someone selling the greatest mexican snacks you could ask for.  There were palletas (mexican popsicles) in every kind of flavor you could think of.   People had little rolling carts with Elotes (corn on the cob) smothered in butter and cheese and chili powder.  I could go on forever.  As a kid, we would hop on the city bus and head to the downtown beach were we hung out all day.  We would be burnt to a crisp while my ma would cake on the noxema....really? noxema?...no sunscreen just stinky white cream after the burn fest...well, it was the 70's.

     Later years moved me into the suburbs, less congested but still close to everything.  My move to the suburbs is where my love for Big Daddy began.  After years of married life, our lives took us further and further from the city limits to the place I now call home.  I have called the country my home for over 10 years now.  I have grown to love it, although I wasn't sure if I ever would.  I love the quietness and the roaming space.  I love my clothesline and watching everything wave in the breeze.  I don't like to actually hang the laundry, but the kids are pretty good at it, so I'll just watch them hang it :)  We've recently got a couple of good rains so I've been watching the same load dry for about 2 days.  The "grannies" blowing around on the line are making me self conscious, thank God only my clan has shared my view out the back window. 

     Here we are, the real reason for this post.  As you have previously read, I would consider myself  a pretty well adjusted country girl.  (Side note.....Big Daddy got a cowboy hat last summer....that awakened feelings in me I didnt know existed....wait did I just write that?  anyhoo,  girls...if your man doesnt already have a cowboy hat, I suggest you run right out and get one).   Ok,  where was I?  So, Im driving down my country road minding my own business and  I run over something in the road.  It wasnt an animal or bird as you might suspect although I have been known to go into a mild depression after hitting birds and once a racoon.  It was small, and  wait.....was that a knife?!   I circle around to check thinking of the new tires I just got in the winter and think "oh great !  then.....oh hey, I'll give it to Big Daddy, he'll love it".   Yup, it was an OPEN pocketknife,  my imagination kicks in.   Why was there a knife in the middle of the road?!  Did someone unknowingly drop it or was it part of a bigger scheme?!  My mind races,  so I did what any illogical person would do who has watched one to many crime dramas....I called the police.  Yes, I know what your'e thinking...My man thought the same thing as he just shook his head in embarrasement.  The dispatcher assured me that someone must have dropped it and its ok to just throw it away...ok, tragedy averted, my mind is again at ease.

     I never did tell you about the box turtle that wanted to fight me on the road.  Yesterday, we're driving down yet another country road and I pass a turtle in the road.  We were excited and then nervous because of impending doom if an unsuspecting car sent this little dude to his maker.  Do I keep driving?  No way!  I pull over, tell the kids to stay in the car, and approach the turtle to pick him up, show the kids then carefully put him in the grass.  Now before you start to worry, be assured that there were no other cars around at the time so all was good.  As I get closer to the turtle he begins to run,  yes, you read right...run.  Then he began to hiss...I should have stopped chasing him but I didnt and I barely could touch him as he escaped my grasp.  How sad that a turtle whooped my rear end in a race.  I hang my head low in defeat as I get back in the car and drive away .  Now, just to find some hand sanitizer........

    

Aging Gracefully...(Subtitled....Embracing Gravity)

     Lately I read a quote from a very admired lady that said something like, " I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls ".  Which thrilled me for about a half a second.  At first I was all, " According to Ms. Hepburn, I am extremely wonderful to look upon ! "  because I'm a pretty happy person as happy goes, well, except when I'm not ....oh yeah, then there's those couple days a month when  I walk the hormonal tightrope.  That delicate balance between tyranny and tears....I'll save that for a later post.

     What does gravity have to do with aging you might wonder to yourself.  I appreciate gravity as much as the next person.  I enjoy not floating away without notice. Gravity is  fantastic, just not when it comes to the aging process.  So how does one age gracefully aside from the obvious fixes like nips, tucks creams, serums and sit ups?  The Good Book tells us that our beauty is not just in our appearance but in our inner beauty that is of great value in God's sight.  That is not to say we let the outside go to pot, we just gotta remember to "groom" the inside.  Let's take time to care for our hearts and our minds. 

     My goal is to nourish my inside and work on my outside.  Being comfortable in my own skin instead of wishing it looked like someone else's.   Being  less critical of the flaws and not resentful of  "gravity".   I have noticed at the times I feel my worst is when I'm most annoyed with other people.  When I feel all is well with my soul, those are the moments I find it easiest to forgive and care for the folks around me.  Anyway, I say all that to say,  I guess I do agree that happy girls are the prettiest girls.......

All Things Potty

     There is a straw that will break the camels back.  That proverbial straw in my case is the public toilet.  I never thought public restrooms would become such an important part of my life.  It seems I barely gave them a second thought until about my 7th month of pregnancy.  This, I think, may be actually my third post about restrooms, I suppose I might be obsessed.  Maybe, obsessed is too strong of a word....I'll leave that up to you.

     Lets go back to the beginning.  When I was huge with baby,  I became very aware of where the closest toilet was in all of my surroundings.  I could tell you without a doubt in which store you may find cleanliness and comfort.  My favorites were the ones where the walls in each stall reached to the ceiling like an impenetrable fortress. One where there was mood lighting and catchy music in which to sing along on a whim.  Later, my next favorites where the ones with the little sinks and changing tables in the big stalls.  I could drive my giant stroller into the spacious room of refuge and take care of my wailing, poopy baby in peace.

     Enough of the "nice" bathrooms, as they were far and few between.  One of my most fond memories was having to nurse my then infant daughter on the floor of the Kmart as she wailed and I clumsily tried to balance her on my knee as I leaned on the toilet, only to then resort to sitting on the floor as far away from the commode as possible.  It wasn't like now where you could pretty much whip out your "unmentionable" in public to feed your baby while people try not to stare.   I'll  never forget the store associate at my nearest department store telling me "You cant do that in here" as I tried to take care of my new son in their cafe.  I did report her but it didn't alter the world or anything.  Flash forward, potty training.  There's nothing quite like your toddler touching the toilet seat then grabbing at your face as you try to help them with their clothes, especially in the summer.

     Potty training is now behind us as we now have 3 graduated conductors of the potty train.  Now, the biggest challenge is the strong, exhortation to put paper on the seats, because they're full of germs and PLEASE, PLEASE  for the love of all that is holy...don't forget to wash your hands !!   You know the paper toilet protector is pretty much worthless in my opinion since it takes about 2 minutes to actually situate them on the seat.   Then, people like to "hover" .....well, great!  "hover" till your hearts content, but can you at least wipe up your sprinkles?!   Oh no.....by all means...make sure you leave them there so I can plop my giant heiny on them....TMI ?  yeah, probably....but wouldn't the world be a nicer place if everyone just sat their caboose down on the seat?.....well, maybe not....   I could go on forever...about the 1 ply toilet paper, the nasty wet sinks.....I will spare you......til next time ;)

    

    

Now, where was I ?

 Wow, I cant even believe I haven't written anything in over a year.  I'm not a person that is given to speechlessness, so I must catch up.  Holy cow, what has happened in the last year?  My mustache is getting thicker and  my feet are getting bigger.  There's only a few more shoes sizes left, I hope this stops soon.  I guess I can keep plucking my mustache, what a price to pay for a smooth lip.

  In the last year, we have gained 2 hamsters, 1 bunny and are still loving our nearly 13 yr. old lab.  As much as he needs, he still warms my heart and brings me back to a place in my mind when we were both a little younger and our joints moved a little freer.  We said goodbye to our dear friend, Birdman after having him in our family for over 19 years. He was our feisty Moluccan Cockatoo with beautiful head feathers and a feather picked body.  He was our bargain pet, due to his nervous nature. Where most cockatoos can be sold for lots of money, ours, including his cage was only $50.  He loved big daddy more than anyone else and was the most loving and calm when around the man he loved.  (sounds like a serious love story, doesnt it?)

 The kids are getting huge and keep me on the edge of my seat on any given day.  We are still homeschooling, 5 yrs. in the making.  Being with the kids is not always Little House on the Prairie, as a matter of fact somedays its more like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.  But, its pretty cool when I can get through math without tears....(talking about myself here).   Big Daddy......what can I say?......I love this guy with my entire being (yeah, I know....who likes love stories on public posts) I guess if I had a way to describe us...I would maybe say George Burns and Gracie Allen ( thats an overexaggeration, but, we do like to have fun).  We met at 17 and are sharing 40 something this year. 

  I never did get my basement organized...but it is always in the back of my mind, at least I havent lost complete sight of my goal....maybe when the kids are a little older I'll realize my lofty dream :)  

 

I Almost Forgot There Were Horses

When we first embarked on our country adventure, our spot was just a corn field.   The country offered so much promise.  The house slowly went up brick by brick, window by window.  My husband impressed me with his skill and craftsmanship.  Our neighbors down the way have horses and I noticed at 4: 30 every afternoon they would run, from one end of the fence down to the other.  I couldn't help but think of how fortunate I was.  Time went on and there was work to be done.  The babies came and the draw on my attention was never ending.  Little by little I took less notice of the horses that once caused me to marvel.  Oh sure, I knew they were there, but I was too busy to really remember.  Why did I forget?  After all...wasn't it my responsibility to fix the world?  To send out ultra responsible, productive children into society?  No, not really.  I mean ..yeah, we all need to raise our children to the best of our know how,  but I'm pretty sure there must be some kind of delicate balance.  Lately, I'm becoming slightly more aware of my fleeting youth, it bugs me a little.  At the same time, I feel like a part of my mind is opening to remind me of whats really important.  It's not the immaculate house or the perfect kids or even the perfect marriage.  It's learning to love those that are placed in your life and to embrace the beauty of the journey.  It's looking past yourself and the imperfections of those around you.  Its remembering the horses when you have kids arguing in the background and there's clutter at your feet.  I sat there today and watched those horses being carefree this morning and it just reminded me, that there is greatness, when you choose to find it.

wanna be happy?...lower your standards!

STANDARDS...such a lofty word..presses us onto greatness.  Raise the bar on excellence, set your standards high!  High enough so that you're a miserable mess trying to attain excellence.....hmmm...  How many of us live at that place in life?  Oh my gosh,   house cant ever be a mess,  kids gotta be primped and preened,  meals hafta be perfect, mans gotta be freshly loved( wink, wink).  Good Lord, can we give ourselves a break already?!  What kinda fairy tale existence is the above described scenario?  Is there anyone who can do it all and not need a Tylenol drip at the end of the day?  Not only are we hard on ourselves, we are hard on each other.  Snarky comments made behind the backs of people,  about their homes, their kids, their whatevers....My thought?  Lets lower the bar, lets let go of the vanity, lets have love and support for our fellow girl  and lets love ourselves a little more.  You cant fold clothes today? Who cares?  You cant clear up the counter today? so what?  you wanna dance to the beat farmers with your kid instead of wash the dishes? do it!  you wanna lay on the floor and pet your 11.5 year old dog? do it! cuz you're not gonna be able to when he's gone.  What?  afternoon delight  with messy hair and bad breath?  go for it! That man ain't looking for a playboy model, he wants you!!  Not one single person has it together, but if we can just get real with each other and ourselves, I believe that would be a great place to start!

Of Dry Shaves and Traveling Laundry Piles...

I love Christmas.  What's not to love?  The twinkling lights, the holiday movies (over and over and over again) etc.  Everything is spectacular and pretty.  I liken Christmas to a great meal.  Preparation leading up to a fabulous meal is time consuming yet exciting.  Finally, we serve up this feast or in this case Christmas joy.  We wait for that look...the twinkle in the eye.  You know somehow by that look, you have raised the bar on Christmas (or on meal prep) once again.  Okay...that is all an exaggeration, but I think you get my point.  Here's my issue with Christmas...December 26.  "But that's the day after Christmas..."you say.  Exactly right!  What does this all have to do with dry shaves and laundry piles you ask?   I'm getting to that.  Just like a great meal ends, so does a great event. What you are left with is mess....you know what I'm talking about...dirty plates, pine needles, wrapping paper and the like.  Little pieces that kids leave on the floor inviting you to step on in an oblivious stupor.  This scenario tends to zap my mental motivation, somehow in the recesses of my mind, a sign flashes....you will never get this cleaned up, the counters are filled with hardening Christmas cookies and questionable pies.  I switch gears and get into survival mode...I lower my standards and shoot for keeping the dishes clean, vacuuming and doing the laundry.  If you have read my blog at all you probably know that actually folding the laundry is not my strong point.  Oh sure, it eventually gets folded, but this is actually a process that involves me laying on said pile, daydreaming and eventually having kids run through any progress.  Somehow,  in the midst of all this, you must find time to shave, lest your husband think he has resorted to nesting with a porcupine.  I resort to dry shaving....sure, it burns for about a day and a half and you might get a couple of nicks but it will suffice....oh well ....I'm beginning to think the true meaning of  Spring cleaning is for people like me that don't actually finish winter cleaning 'til Spring......

HEY YOU! Yes you....and all your marvelous flaws......

  Flaws?!  What flaws?....No, not you.... that person in your living room or in the office space next to you.  We make an exhausting attempt to live up to external expectations.  Since we were children, we've heard, "just be yourself"...."be ourselves?  but what if thats not good enough?"   All day the merry go round of thoughts whiz past our brains.....( was I good enough today? nice enough today? loving enough today? did I volunteer enough this month?, because you know so and so over there volunteers all the time and they are super excited!   Ugggh....the list goes on and on.   The truth of the matter is that you will NEVER be good enough, nice enough or volunteer enough.  If you're a stay at home parent you will feel guilty over the house thats never clean enough or if you must work you will suffer guilt if you want to be home..  Its a catch 22...the classic damned if you do, damned if you don't.  Let's just stop the craziness for a moment....take a breath chill out a little.  I remember hearing a line in a movie once that I don't think I'll ever forget..." In this life you don't have to prove nothin' to nobody except yourself".  Powerful words....Freeing words.......Can we let go of the image, that cannot be lived up to?   Can you be okay with yourself  if you arent perfect today?  You have great value..you are what someone needs today...just the way you are....marveously flawed.....

Loyalty That Could Not Be Bought..(subtitle)...The Bird That Could Take Me Or Leave Me

  Let me introduce you to "Birdman".   One would think that a name of such caliber should invoke thoughts of superheros or at the very least a half man half bird you find in a mythology book.  Not so much,  this name belongs to our beloved Cockatoo.  He was obtained in a rescue of sorts 19 yrs. ago.  The previous owner said,   " $50 for the cage and the bird and he's yours."  What was the deal?  Why so cheap you wonder?  The deal was,  he was a notorious, nervous feather picker, not very attractive by pet store standards.  We shoved the large cage and nervous bird into our tiny Toyota, off we went on the hour trip home.  We were looking forward to having this great pet,  we could train him...this was gonna be supercool.   Reality sets in.....we lived on the second floor of our apartment building and upon entering  the front door on the main floor, we heard loud amazonian like screeching.   We raced up the stairs in a panic to attempt to quiet the beast.  oh my gosh, what was up with this bird?!  Upon further research, we discovered that in the wild, they all let out primal screeches at dinnertime.......silly me, of course....what was I thinking?   Oh yes...and usually in captivity they like to bond with one person.   You would think it would be me right?  After all,  I'm home with him, I feed him and once in awhile I'll even give him a toy or even some newspaper to shred all over the floor.  Not a chance,  it's Big Daddy he loves.  I mean, I don't really blame him, I love Big Daddy myself.  There have been times when this lovely animal has even taken a lunge at me or the kids will yell,  "ma! look out!" as he descends on high to peck at my head. Did I mention we keep his door off so he can come in and out of his cage at will?  All the snuggling and lovey bird noises are saved for his true love, Big Daddy.  I get attitude or just plain tolerance.  Anyway, he remains...our longest lasting pet and faithful friend to the man he loves.  He never did quit picking his feathers, oh well,  I guess what they say is right, beauty is in the eye of the beholder ( just be careful not to get your eye pecked out!) ok...that last part was added...I think you get the picture.

Sunnin', Swingin' and Dog Poop Flingin'.....

    With "Real Feel" temperatures rising, my little one has been after me for days to put out the kiddie pool.  By nature, I tend to procrastinate, doesn't the old saying go " Why put off today what you can do tomorrow?"........Ok, I know its the other way around,  but sometimes I wish it was worded that way.  Big daddy in his usual wonderful way drags out the old blow up pool and finds a piece that will fit the blower machine and gets to work.  Sweat beads down his forehead in the hot garage as he takes care of this inflatable.  Ok, hard part finished.......not so fast, this thing still has to be scrubbed out and dragged out to the back yard.  At 7 a.m. one of the first things I'm greeted with is "I want my pool , is it filled?"   I set a time of 9 a.m. to do the dirty work.  I drag the plastic beast to the back of the house and figure out that doggie clean up needs to happen so we don't have kids mushing down "surprises" in between their toes.  I get to work...now, if you remember back to my winter dog clean up story, there was some poo flinging toward the garden in a heavy wind.   Thankfully, no wind this time, just searing heat.  Let the flinging begin!  I was grateful that the burning sun had hardened these dog pies, making the clean up a bit easier.  As in the winter, I look back at the house to see children in the window smiling at their tankini clad mother throwing doo doo.  I'm convinced this should really be an Olympic sport.  I'm finished, onto scrubbing the pool, that wasn't so bad,  out the kids went with the immediate question being, "when's it gonna warm up?"....well happy to report the kids enjoyed the frigid temperature without too much complaining.  A good time was had by all until........a giggly 4 yr. old  informs all in earshot that she has just peed in the pool.....(sigh)... the pool seems to empty very quickly when someone yells that.  There's always tomorrow.....

Even Heros Have the Right to Bleed.....

  I woke up sometime during the early morning hours weeping.  I was having a dream where my dearly departed father made 2 cameo appearances.  I lost my dad just over 5 years ago now and although the "strike" to my heart has lost most of its strength, there are moments out of nowhere that bring it back.  The thing that I enjoyed most about my dad was his sense of  "ease",  his ability to not take life so seriously.  He was funny,  sort of a silly guy.  When I was young, I saw him as all powerful, almost a superhero.  He was just barely 18 years old when I was born.  He was a father when he was a very young man, but as a man he didn't abandon his child.  Even superheros have their weakness,  and as "spectators", sometimes we view our superheros weakness in an unkind light.  We wonder why they didn't "measure up" or "come through".  As parents I believe most of us have only the best in mind for our children. We hope that they will be happy, well rounded if you will.  We hope that they will overlook our inadequacies to see the greatness.  I have come to that place in my heart when I think of my dad.   His love, his sense of humor and his easy going nature will live on.....I have grown up to see "the greatness"........

Motherhood of the Traveling Laundry Pile

  I have a love/hate relationship with my laundry.  Well, for one thing, I like to wear clean clothes,  we all do, right?  Seriously, a person can only Febreez a dirty shirt so many times, true?  I don't really do that, I actually do not like spraying freshener on dirty stuff, kinda gross to me, although I would never poo-poo any ones parade.  Onto why I hate my laundry...I absolutely cannot stand to fold the clothes.  I admire people that say, well, I just fold it as it comes out of the dryer, this way its fresh and its done.  Unfortunately, this is not actually how I roll.  My routine goes a little something like this,  washing the clothes is a smooth operation, drying, "easy peasy".....folding....hmmm...here's where things get a little "iffy".    By "iffy" I mean, "if" I'm not busy, then I will fold.  My laundry pile is currently about 3 loads high....now I procrastinate.  I fold a few things then walk away, then someone usually runs through my pile, so then I'm back at 1st base.  Yesterday, I folded some things, then just laid on top of the pile and daydreamed a bit.  Eventually everything actually does get folded and no one is wrinkled.  Starting to wonder if I should delegate it to the kids, I mean at least the towels and  undies would be folded... hmmm....the ponderings of  a daydreaming mama  :)

Tick, Tock, Tick ......

  I went and tried one of those self serve dog washes with the kids.  Let me rephrase...I didn't actually wash the kids there, just the dog.  Ive been wanting to try this for awhile but was always deterred because of the distance.   I'm a country girl so its pretty much a 20 minute drive one way to town.  Anywho, I promised my daughter that we would take the dog for a car ride on his birthday.   This grand occasion was actually 3 weeks ago but its been kinda hot so I was procrastinating.  An old dog and 3 small children doesn't always work well on a 85 degree day.  Yesterday was nice and cool, so we seized the day.

  We pulled up to the car wash and I survey the dog wash, I say, "ok you guys, this costs $7 for 10 minutes so we need to hurry.  They were great helpers, we got the old guy up the ramp onto the "sink" and began to scrub.  So as I'm scrubbin along, I feel a hard roundish bump hanging off the dog.  I got squeamish knowing this could only be one thing...A Tick!  This is nothing new in the country but for some reason, this season we particularly have our fill.  Up until about 8 years ago I was a city girl so I wasn't all that familiar with bugs the size of small kittens and such.  Of course, I'm exaggerating, but they can be intimidating.  Back to the tick,  I deal with him in the only way ticks should be treated, I will spare the gory details.  The timer on the dog wash was was counting down,  we were racing against the clock or we would be going home with a soapy dog as I didn't have many more singles in my purse.  Whew, we got done in the nick of time.  On the way home we stopped and got a chicken sandwich off the dollar menu for our brave subject.  Well, the kids had a new experience and the dog got the stink washed off him so I guess in all, it was a win-win situation.

Welcome to Your Local Germ Fest....Part Deux

  Hey all!  I felt compelled to add a second thought to my original post about public restrooms.  Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the toilet....(insert Jaws music here).  Today we will be chatting about the splendor of the port a potty.  Let me back up a bit, as if I wasn't busy enough, I decided that signing the kids up for sports would be a great idea.  We made it through Karate and moved onto T-ball.  T-ball enables me to visit the port a potty at least twice a week with my young child who is intrigued by the toilet in a box.  I should be grateful, at least there is hand sanitizer in there.  Unlike the wood boxes of yesteryear, we now have the luxury of toilet paper and don't have to resort to crumpled napkins on the floor of the car.  If you weren't fortunate enough to scrounge up a napkin or two, you may have to resort to some type of leaf or the "drip- dry" method.


   My young child must be accompanied to this glorious box in order to somehow be levitated over this hole of muck by yours truly.  Once again, I implore her..."Don't touch anything...please....and don't touch my face".  Helping her with her clothes is an added treat since I get to bend over and somehow have my clothes brush the makeshift urinal ever so gently.  I  utter out a few groans of disgust as I say,  "didn't we use the potty at home?  why are we in here again?"  The only explanation I get out of this wonderful child is .."I had to go.."    I guess for now,  the potty trenches it is....

Has Anyone Seen the Crazy Cream?

  The change.....what exactly does that mean?  Well, if your entering midlife, you might have some idea of where this might be going.  I guess the word "change" can produce optimistic feelings or possibly a wave of negative emotions.  We might experience a lop sided mixture of the two and we may scramble to find that delicate, elusive balance.  A dear friend of mine let me in on a little secret...she called it "natural progesterone".  I had a surge of hope...could I find that balance I was in search of?  I took a little trip to my health food store..where was it?!  As if the heavens opened, a ray of gleaming light shown down,  there on the women's health shelf was the answer to all that was amiss.

  I got home and opened my bag of gold.  On the container it said, " Massage 1/4 to 1/2 tsp of cream into inner arms, thighs, blah..blah..blah".  On it went, "Yay!  the solution to all my ups and downs,  happiness and calm in a bottle!"  I did notice a difference, a slight improvement, better than nothing.  Big Daddy lovingly refers to my new found treasure as "crazy cream".   He will enter my perimeter and survey my aura..."did you put on the crazy cream?..slap it on, eat it or do what ever ya got do...."    Hmmm......I wonder what he's trying to tell me...Ahhh yes....these stages of life.   No wonder why the  "Good  Book"  offers up the encouragement...."Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a women who fears the Lord will be praised."   So, as I beat back my impending mustache and growing feet, I will try to keep that wonderful verse in the forefront of my mind.

A Mother of a Meltdown

  Eww...I just realized I dropped stew on my keyboard yesterday, ick....what was I saying?  Oh yes...meltdowns.  We're not talking about some kind of cooking fauxpax or a lesson in candle making.  We are in fact talking about a good old fashioned tantrum.  The kind of tantrum that leaves you exhausted, wondering somehow if your lack of parenting skills, somehow have resulted in this untethered outburst. 

  There are a couple of different kinds of tantrums that I, myself have been privy to. First,  This is what I call "the undercover tantrum", this is the kind where it's not totally obvious, although there is a lurking stinky attitude.  The grudge holding, stink eye if you will.  The second of these is much noisier,  with the threat of pushing the parent to the very edge of insanity.  In public this type of tantrum is embarrassing to say the least.  You struggle to maintain all composure, but inside you feel the cringe, the looming thought that all eyes are on you, somehow judging your parenting skills.  You somehow manage to whisper through your gritted teeth, "you better get off that floor, before you have a consequence..."   You really have no idea what that consequence will be at that moment, your just trying to get cooperation in a frenzied moment.

  Somehow, the child's attention is diverted...and "poof"...as if someone waved a magic wand....it's over.  We regain composure and move on to the next call of business.  We are a little worse for the wear, a little weather beaten if you will but we manage to pull ourselves together.  You know that if you can hang in there for a little while longer, bedtime will come and all will be well.  The scene in the Willy Wonka movie comes to mind, you know the one where Verruca's dad is trying to reason with her as he sweats it out.  The mom says something like, " happiness and harmony is what matters most with children".  Well we all know how that turned out for Verruca, now don't we?  I myself have given into the bribe, in a desperate plea I have caved and offered ice cream in return for "happiness and harmony". 

  I hear my parent's voices in the recesses of my mind,  "someday you will have children just like you".  When I was younger, I thought they were a little kooky.  The dawn of understanding has risen to enlighten me.  I get it now...sometimes I say to Big Daddy, "when they have kids of their own, we can just point and laugh.."  A little immature I know...what can I say....I hang around with kids all day  ;)
 

Welcome to Your Local Germ Fest!

  Few things in life get my dander up more than the public restroom.  Using the commode as a highly potty trained adult can be a tricky experience in a public setting.  After selecting a stall, you carefully open the door, your eyes scan the small perimeter as if in search of creeping marauders.  If the toilet is "usable", we begin the toilet paper process, the covering of every square inch of "sit" space.  Some chose to forgo this exercise and chose the squat method, hoping that their aim is on target.  Then, the flush,  some of the more neurotic among us may use our foot to flush, hoping to escape a handful of germs.  Last but not least, let's not forget to wash our hands.  You may need to hold your purse between your knees while you wash, then do the shimmy, side step over to the hand towels. Oh, I almost forgot, don't forget to use a paper towel to grab the handle on the door, lest you become a host of potty germs.

  If you have ever been fortunate enough to take a child, perhaps even 3 to the bathroom at once, your experience will be even better.  That day you achieve the elusive "potty trained" status, you are now enrolled in a new experience called,  "Take your child to every bathroom at every stop, no matter where you are".  Your patience will be tested as they touch the seat then touch your face as you are attempting to help them with their clothes.  As their clothes get wet while you are trying to help with the hand washing, you try not to mutter out a cuss word under your breath.  Parents all over the world can be heard in public facilities saying, "ah...ah... I just said don't touch that, why did you touch that?!"  In my perfect world there would be some kind of robotic device that came out of the wall in the bathroom stall after each use, to completely sanitize each area, sometimes I dream big...maybe someday.

Boys Are From the Sandbox, Girls Are From the Flower Garden

  Big daddy and I sat at a table enjoying coffee.  A large pane of glass separated our peace and serenity from complete chaos. The chaos of which I speak is happening in the large hamster type habitat for children to run amuck.  Our silence is shattered as my youngest daughter runs through the door with my son following close behind.  "WHAT DID I DO?!", he yells out in a desperate plea.  Apparently my girl was reacting to a minor infraction committed on her brother's part.  If I remember correctly, I think she felt ignored while he played with a new found friend.

  This scenario got me to thinking about the differences between boys and girls.  When my children were babies I had it all planned out.  I would teach my daughters to be strong, not to overreact...they would be soft but not overly sensitive if you will.  My son was going to be the perfect male specimen.  He would be sensitive and extra thoughtful.  I in my master mind planning was going to create the perfect balance in my boys and girls.  I'm beginning to see that these differences appear to be hard wired in the genes of these little people.  For ages men and women have struggled to understand each others complexities.  Striking that delicate balance of understanding, love and everything in between.

  I watch every morning as my girls lavish kisses and hugs on their dad. They follow him out to the car, wave good-bye from the window and pray for their dad's day.  All these "butterfly kisses" are preceded by my son shouting a hearty, "BYE DAD ! SEE  YA LATER!",  as he carries on about his business.  It amazes me to watch the differences, gives me a little more understanding into my own life...hmm..interesting.  Needless to say, my masterful plan has been pitched to the wayside.  I replace those plans with thoughts of guidance, and instruction.  Maybe instead, I can help them learn to live with each other in helpfulness and harmony.