Wordless Wednesday Catch Up

I missed Wordless Wednesday yesterday, but I just had to post this.

Lifted from Chelle B's blog over at The Offended Blogger, I just had to share with my friends and family. So, thank you Chelle -- you don't know that I just lifted this from your site, but I'm giving you lots and lots and lots of cyber love for posting such a wonderful piece of art that so eloquently portrays what I feel for one full week out of every month.

Stating the Obvious

We've all heard that there's "no need to state the obvious." But, in my newfound effort to actually WATCH Gorbulas more, I just had to post this little tidbid.

We returned home from school to a gorgeous, sunny, warm afternoon at home. Perfect outside weather. Gorby and Ruby head outside immediately after we get home.

I don't want to HOVER but I do need to WATCH. Watch more closely, I should add, because you know, I always watch them -- I just don't WATCH them. I mean, hey, I got stuff to do people!!!

I hear a series of noises coming from the side yard.

My mom antennae go up.

It sounds an awful lot like shovels, rakes and hoes being forcibly removed from safekeeping (maybe he'll grow to be a safecracker?). I look out the kitchen window, and lo and behold, there is Gorby dragging a shovel and a rake to the play area. Lots of wonderful rocks to rake...pebbles to shovel....and sisters to whack in the head?

I told myself, "Nahhhhhh he wouldn't possibly. He couldn't. It wouldn't even occur to him."

Ummm would it?

I had visions of some altercation out there and Ruby coming in with a sliced head -- and we all know that head wounds are the worst! Blood, brains, guts all dripping everywhere. Yuck.

So, I ever-so-quietly lean out the slider and say, "Uhhhh Gorby? Do I need to actually tell you that it's not ok to whack someone in the head with a shovel? Or, do you already know that?"

He stares at me with a blank stare.

Oh that's not a good sign.

"Gorby? Don't hit anyone in the head -- or anywhere else on their bodies -- with a shovel, rake or anything else....ok?"

He thinks for a moment, "Ummm...OK Mama."

Oh dear.

Small Successes

This morning, ladies and gentleman, was my first foray into the Gorbulas Behavioral Modfication Plan (or, for fun, we'll just call it the BM). Which could also be co-named the Chills Out Mama Plan (or, as I like to call it the COMP plan).

We're getting ready for school, which typically not an easy feat. Ruby is self-sufficient, albeit distracted, and can understand complex requests like, "Put on your clothes. Brush your teeth. Put on your shoes." Not difficult, I know.

But to Gorby, multiple requests usually ends up with an exasperated boy whining and moaning, "I caaaaaannn'ttttt" followed by a dramatic demonstration of how to fall to the floor and lay prone. Ultimately Mom yells, thus setting the stage for his utter desperation in trying to locate shoes, clean underwear, socks, and then donning said items. (Editor's Note: I lay out his clothes -- so how hard is it to walk to the bed and put them on? I can't find any matching pair of the 4 pair that he owns, so I delegate that task to him and while he searches aimlessly I prepare breakfast).

That's a normal morning.

Today was different. The clothing routine was only 15 minutes and we actually had a pleasant time getting lunches ready.

When he asked, "Mamma can I help?" I didn't say, "No thanks buddy - just eat your breakfast" like I normally would, I said, "Absolutely! Go get a chair and come help me make your sandwich!"

I mayo'd a piece of bread and cut it in half. I give him two pieces of ham, which he haphazardly tossed onto the bread.

I say, "OK now take the other side and put it on top."

Squish
Mom cringes.
Mash and Twist.
Mayo and bits of ham are now seeping out the sides.

Seriously, I'm doing a great job hiding my facial expressions.

"Alright - good job! Now put it in the baggie".

Toss.
Squish.
Top half and bottom half are completely separated and he's pretty much got a bag-o-mess.

Next, he goes to the fridge and asks (he actually ASKS!) to get a hard-boiled egg.

Sure, no problem. After a wee training class on how to peel a boiled egg under cold water, Gorby and Ruby place (what is now about two thirds) of their peeled eggs in their lunchboxes.

They did it themselves.
It looked terrible.
But they're all smiles.
And so am I!

The Value of a Mess

At dropoff this morning, I talked with another Mom and friend, Gwen, with whom I shared some of Gorbulas' antics. I call them antics, because they do frustrate me to the nth degree, but really...I should give the kid a break. He's almost 4, after all.

The most interesting part of my conversations with Gwen is her perspective. She has 1 college student, 2 almost-out-of high school, 1 freshman and then there's little Raven, in Ruby's class. She has the benefit of many years' experience and hindsight in the way she raises Raven.

When I was sharing about Gorby's destructiveness, she listened carefully and then asked if he was angry and then destructive. No, he's not an angry child. He's just extreeeemmmmmeeellllyyyyyy investigative and tactile. A slow smile graced her lips and she said, "Perfect."

What Gorby needs is some boundaries, that's all. I think he's an intelligent, bright, happy and yes, an investigative child. If he likes to break eggs I should let him crack them open, feel the shell, feel how the yolk pops in his hands and then give him a fork so he can stir it all up instead of just dismissing him to "go play" while I make breakfast. He should have all the experimentation he wants -- but with supervision and within the confines of a project. She gave me some very good advice that I will try and heed.

If you know me IRL, you know that I don't like messes (yet they're always around) and I don't like clutter. I don't like sticky things and I don't like goop. If I could live in a Better Homes and Gardens home in a magazine spread, I would. But it looks like goop, stick and clutter are on my horizon because I have children.

It's a beautiful day today, so after school, out comes the butcher paper and paint and we're gonna get goopy -- all within the confines of a project.

And, *gulp* I will proudly display his creation on the sliding glass door for all to see.

The Book Meme

Stephanie over at Stephanie's Place says that any meme is worthy to be called a distrction from the insanity, and I tend to agree. She's graciously tagged me (you know life is getting a bit stressed when you're thankful to be tagged :-) ) and I tag the following:

Polly at In2MeSee
Beth at A Mom's Life
Diesel *If* Grundir will allow it
A Life of Liberti
Mama Milton
Michelle
and
Maine 'n Me

OK Here goes:

1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people & post a comment here once you post it to your blog, so I can come see.

"...extravaganza thrills onlookers as race cars exceed 130 miles per hour over the 12 1/2 mile course to the top of Pikes Peak via a dirt road with 156 turns and an altitude gain of nearly 5,000 feet. Be advised the loud noise from the cars' engines could frighten light tykes. $$$$, children under 12 free."

Fun with the Family: Colorado, by Doris Kennedy.

Daily Antics - Act 1 Scene 1

I've been incogneto lately, not because there's not much to say, but because frankly, I just don't have the energy to say it. Ohh, believe me, there's plenty of things to say, especially regarding Gorbulas. I'm convinced that whoever coined the phrase "The Terrible Two's" did not have a three year old boy.

Friday was a tough one.

He disrespected his teacher and found himself in the "Get Ready Chair" (as in, "I'm getting ready to bolt?" or "I'm getting ready to think of new ways to make preschool experience horrendous for everyone here?" Because sure as heck it's not "I'm getting ready to behave"). Get-Ready-Chair... how stupid. How about a "Next Move Outta You and I'm Knocking Your Head Off" Chair?

Yeah, we already have one of those at home.

So, Gorby's teacher asks him to please put away the sticky tape and butcher paper and come sit at circle time. He looks her straight in the eye, thinks for a moment, and then rolls his eyes at her and turns around to continue playing. (Ohhh my gosh! Wonder where he gets that from?)

Turnabout's fair play I suppose, because the teacher knows how much I hate kids' artwork love to display his beautiful creations at home so she sends him home with a "kite" that he made that includes (I kid you not) 18 feet of calculator tape with unset glitter glue as the "kite tail". Gee thanks Teacher Kim!

As she waves a Friday goodbye, I think I almost heard, "Have a great weekend you little shit Gorby!Hope I don't see you Monday!"

The weekend was also a tough one. I thought that maybe we were on our way up this morning, you know, from a weekend of:

• seventeen hundred itty bitty army men on the floor....ever so wonderful on the feet at midnight,


• five hundred thousand small Dora and Diego dominos gracing one's bedroom,


• two firetrucks sliding down the staircase (17 stairs in all)....ohhh goody,


• an ever so small hole in the jumpy-house netting...now expanded to the size of a baseball,


• thin confetti-like padding from a recent Christmas ornament (yes still in the box) ripped from its safe haven of a tightly sealed box and strewn across the guest bedroom floor and hallway,


• a homemade "breakfast" of my very own made by Gorby himself (hmm raw eggs in a mason jar...yum!)

*sigh*

But then, this morning was the piece de resistance:

• a entire can of Miller Genuine Draft sacrificed to jaws of "The Crusher!!!!"...now dripping down the doorframe to the garage all smelly and stinking up the place

This can't be normal.

Is this normal??? For a boy???

I swear, this kid has GOT to be a scientist when he grows up otherwise all this exploration building skills will be for not.

Today will be a better one...I hope!

Hindsight is 20/20....Sometimes.

President's Day weekend has come and gone, and I must say I'm glad we're back to our routine of home, work and school. Our weekend was bittersweet, to say the least. Frederer and I are working through a major issue and it tainted the entire weekend. But there was lots of fun to be had, and for the purpose of this post, will choose to focus on the fun and positive. A lady I scrapbook with, Orangeblossom, invited us to spend the weekend with their family at her in-law's house in South Lake Tahoe. We never pass up a chance for South Lake, so we agreed!

We spent significant time in the snow, which is exactly what we all needed -- especially Ruby and Gorbulas. We smiled a LOT, laughed a lot, and I almost got into a fist-fight (more on that to come).

We went snowmobiling and sledding, and both were equally fun. If you've not tried snowmobiling, I highly recommend it. I don't know if it was pricey or not -- pricey is in the eye of the beholder -- but it was $50/30-minutes per sled. We got one for each of us, and I think it was a well spent $100. We each took one child (another huge plus for the man-to-man coverage) and sped along a predefined, groomed track. It took a while to get a hang of the snowmobile, and thank GOD they had a governor on it. We had a lot of fun and it was quite a successful outing. Nobody flipped their snowmobile, nobody went up on one ski and nobody got hurt. That's my definition of "successful." I think this will be our Christmas card for next year (just kidding):

The next day, we continued the snow-based frivolity at a sledding hill. In California, there are Caltrans sponsored "Sno-Parks" where you can pay $5 and sled in relative safety knowing the path is groomed, there is some assemblance of order, policies and procedures. Yeah, this wasn't one of those places.

This was a pull-over-to-the-side-of-the-road place that only the locals know. Well, the locals must have brought their entire network of friends and family because there were probably 200 people on the hill. The picture below only shows about 1/4 of the hill.

For the most part, people were civil and there were a few run-ins of people being stupid, walking up the center of the slope as opposed to the sides, and running into one another. Like the two 20-something girls that were doubling up on a sled. More of that to come.

To say that Ruby took to sledding like a duck to water would be the understatement of the century. The girl has no fear, and seriously reminds me of when I was younger. She had an absolute blast and went up and down probably 50 times, each time getting more and more brave. She ended up finding the moguls and would actually get some air! It was truly hilarious to watch her.

Gorbulas is more of a summer and water boy I think. Give him a hose in the summer and he's happy as a clam in high tide. Winter sports? Not so much. But he did have fun and he did enjoy himself. If given the choice though, I'm confident he'd rather have warmer activities.

I even sledded down as well. Granted, I look like a blue version of the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man, but hey, I did sled and have the photos to prove it.

The end of the morning came near and we told the kids they had 5 more runs and then we'd go grab some lunch. Wouldn't you know it but the very last run is where we had problems. Remember the rude 20-somethings I mentioned above? Remember when I said I almost got in a fistfight? Yeah. We're now there in the day's timeline.

Keep in mind I am about as stressed out as is humanly possible. We've had some serious stressors in our family and I am pretty much right at a simmering point (you know, where the lid is just off-center on the pot and ready to boil over? Get the visual? Yeah, that's me. I'm like Mount Etna ready to explode at any moment). The joy of watching my children have fun is the only thing keeping me sane at this point.

On the last run, Ruby teams up with her good buddy Popo (Orangeblossom's oldest son, who is 7) and they ride together. Just as they are about 20 feet into their run, all smiles and hootin' and hollarin', the two 20-something female idiots come careening down the slope and collide with them at full speed. Popo goes flying and ends up on his back, laying on one leg cocked back at the knee (not hyper-extended just like he's sitting on his foot), entwined with one of the idiots. Ruby flew off the sled, is face down and spread eagle about 3' away. She's shell shocked, her face covered in snow. She's more shocked than anything, and begins to whimper. Popo is visibly shaken and is now full-on bawling. Orangeblossom's husband is at the top of the sledding hill and starts running to gather his son (Orangeblossom is with her younger son in a separate section of the hill making a snowman with her youngest son).

Of the two 20-somethings, one of them was smart enough to keep her mouth shut, but the other one? Oh the other one? She just had to open her mouth. Orangeblossom's husband glares at SmartMouth and says, "What the hell is the matter with you?!?" and she replies, "What? They were in the way!!!"

I can't keep quiet either, so I start shouting at her, "What are you DOING?!????? These are KIDS!!!

(Set the scene, she's on the ground, still entwined with Popo who is being untangled by his dad, and I'm standing over her gathering up Ruby).

She actually has the audacity to say, "F*ck You!" to me!!!! My mouth is open and I am speechless. For just a wee moment.

"F*uck me?!," I scream, "F*uck YOU! You're the one who ran over my kid!"

SmartMouth says, "Yeah??? What are you going to do about it?"

Right then, Frederer is on-scene with Gorbulas in tow. I'm stammering. I don't know what the heck to do. Or what to say. So I say the most lame thing that could possibly be uttered.

"You know...I'm just going to sic my husband on you."

(Geez, could I think of anything else more wimpy?)

Not surprisingly, she takes one look at my 300-lb Frederer and actually has the sense to shut that big yapper of hers and gets up to walk away.

As she turns away she mutters under her breath, "Geez...it was just an accident...."

to which I turn around, and with my biggest mom-shouting voice:

"If it's an ACCIDENT then you APOLOGIZE! You don't blame THEM and say that it's THEIR fault for being in YOUR way! She's five years old for f*ck sake." (Yes, I'm a Christian and yes, I have a sinful mouth like a sailor when I'm angry).

Do you ever get so angry you start to cry? Or is it just me?

We get ourselves together and I take a deep breath. I look at Ruby and Gorby, smile and in my chipperest Mom voice say, "Well, I think maybe we should go now and have some lunch! Whattya think?" :-)

Walking away and I'm pulling Gorby on his sled. I'm now so angry I start to cry. More like sob. I'm muttering under my breath with hot tears streaming down my face, "God D*mm*t, effin bitch I shouldda...I wouldda.....I should go back there and kick her in the face...I can't believe she told *me* to F-off...blah blah blah."

And now, we arrive at Hindsight Being 20/20.

I swear, if I had to do it over again, I wonder if I should have just taken off my mittens and just throttled this girl. Nobody runs over my little girl, then blames her, tells me to f-off and gets away with it. I should have jumped on top of her, scratched out her eyes with my fake nails, grabbed her hair, ripped handfulls of it out, and then pull a Mike Tyson and bit her ear off.

Go head, take me to jail!

No problem!

Have me psych evaluated!

No problem!

I probably need it anyway!

I replay the scene over and over and over in my mind, and oh I wish -- I just wish -- that I would have just throttled her.

But, this is where values enter the scene....

The sinful part of me honestly wishes -- in hindsight -- that I would have just unleashed on that stupid tramp. But, the truth of the matter is, that my values run deep. Deeper than I realize or consciously think. I was always taught that you use your words not your fists to resolve conflict (hence, why I myself have a sharp tongue). And that's what I did here.

I think I did what was right in the eyes of my kids, and that was to remove them from danger and (albeit verbally) correct SmartMouth's mistaken belief that fighting is the answer when asked, "Yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

But ohhhh, in hindsight, there are people that just deserve a good pop in the nose and she's one of them.

But what would that say to my children and the hundreds of other kids around the sledding hill?

For now, I will choose to just cry away my anger and turn my face to the only One who can diffuse it.

For now, I will choose to look at the smiles on my family's face and will myself to believe that all the stress our family is under, the attacks from the Enemy and the volitile situations we find ourselves in will pass.

This too shall pass.

Tonight's Dinner Prayer

We have dinner early on Wednesdays -- usually around 5:15 so I can get to class and we don't have to forego a family dinner. Tonight we had yummy tacos with stale taco shells. :-)

Gorbulas loves (LOVES) to lead the family dinner prayer, which usually goes something like this: "Bless us o Lord, and these thy gifts, help my family to be better. Amen." Nice and brief and to the point. We usually add a PS: to this prayer thanking God for His many blessings, our food and to watch over our brother currently serving in Qatar.

But tonight...TONIGHT was different! Here was tonight's prayer:

Gorby: "Bless us o Lord, and these thy gifts and please help us to not have any monsters, and no spiders, and no big black spiders, and the bless the red Spied-a-man, but not Green Goblin and not the black spiderman..."

Mom (whispering): ".....and thank you for our food...."

Gorby: "....and thank you for our food and thank you for Batman and the red Spied-a-man but not the black Spied-a-man..."

Mom (whispering): "and....Amen."

Gorby (glaring at me): "....WAIT! I'm not done! ....and don't let there be spiders or monsters and keep us safe from Sayyyyyten and please let the red Spied-a-man and me and Jesus we're gonna kill Sayyyten."

Mom (whispering...not so quietly now): "Okkayyyy alrightyyyyy, AMEN."

Gorby: "Amen."

Well, hallelujah!

Let's eat.

Wordless Wednesday

The Bingham Canyon Mine in Utah.

3/4 mile wide

2 1/2 miles deep


Careful...don't fall in

Guys Survey on Modesty

I was walking through our town recently on a warm(er) day and wouldn't you know it, but the hoochie-mama outfits are back. Shoot...and here I was looking forward to sunny weather. God, bring back the rain, PLEASE!!!

It's my personal opinion that our society has drastically changed for the worse in terms of how females dress. I know that statement is a strong one -- I know it is. But I look around and I see these teens and twentysomethings, and even some thirtysomethings and how they dress. My goodness, it makes me uncomfortable -- and I'm a WOMAN! Am I just a fuddy-duddy? Am I just old fashioned and (I always love this one) "closed minded"? I can only imagine how the men feel, considering they are way more visual than women. Poor guys...they can't get a break. So, women dress trashy and then expect the men NOT to gawk and feel lust? Please, ladies, please.

I found this very interesting site about a guy's perspective on how girls dress. The results were quite interesting. If this is of interest, check it out. If not, go ahead and continue to dress slutty. Heh. Just kidding.

Dapper Dan

My spirits have been down for a few days, and I read a couple blog entries that just made me sob. From clicking here, there and everywhere, I ended up on a lady's site where she just lost her husband a few days ago. She's my age, and (God love her) has six children. From there, I linked over to Prayer Pagers, a nonprofit's website. Go check it out if you have a moment. In light of the fact that I was just sobbing, I REALLY needed something to make me smile. So...of course, I turn my very own physical comedian extraordinaire...Gorby. :-)

One of the best days we had was his first visit to the barbershop. It was time to take the youngin' to get a haircut when colleagues commented that my "daughter" looked so cute in this Old Navy sweatshirt:

Yeah, that's my SON folks.

So I told Frederer that I'd take him to the salon, and in true Frederer fashion, he replied, "What? A salon??? You want our son to be GAY?"

Me: *rolling eyes* "Oh, give me a break Fred Flintstone."

Him: "No, I'll take him to the barbershop where BOYS go to get the BOY haircut."

Me: "OK, let's all go! I'll take pictures and scrap it!" :-D

He wasn't kidding. The menu of services include: Mens, Boys, Special and Shave. That's it. Alllrrrighty then.

Beautiful boy, intently watching Daddy get his hair cut:

Now, it's Gorby's turn. Not too happy to see "Mr. Paul". I love this photo because of the reflection in the mirror.
Brave one just muscles through it:

How much longer Mamma?

The reward for Dapper Dan!

It's memories like these that never cease to bring a smile to my face.

SMICE

My friend Steph ran out of gas with a vanfull of children. My first reaction would have been terror, but as usual, she handles stress with much grace.

And, SMICE? Her kids are BRILLIANT I tell ya, BRILLIANT!
http://stephaniesplace.wordpress.com/2008/02/11/a-social-experiment/

I'm Verklempt

I always thought "overklempt" was the word, but hey, dictionary.com set me straight. Whatever the word is, I am so touched to be awarded the Excellent Blog award by my dear friend Stephanie. What I find comical about blogging world is that anybody out there can be empowered to say, "You know, I think I'm going to give a little love to you, and you, and you, and you, and here's a fun little sticker for you!" So, thanks for the love Steph!!!

Now, like any good pay it forward gal, I am passing some bloggy-love to:

Diesel who, God knows, does not need any more web awards but is just so darn hilarious I can't help but pass along some love. I know, I know, he gets love from thousands of others, but here's just another feather to put in his cap. He makes me laugh DAILY which is a great thing. He's incredibly smart, witty and very intelligent, so, Diesel, thank you for sharing your gift with the rest of us.

Joy Unexpected is a new found blog that again makes me laugh...and cry...and think. Yvonne, I look forward to keeping up with your happenings and your struggles.

In2MeSee is my dear friend Polly's blog. The bloggy love she gets from me is a bit of encouragement and friendship. I cannot relate to infertility but I sympathize and I walk along side her struggle because she's my dear dear friend and sister in the Lord. Her writing style brings you right into her world of peaks and valleys and makes me even more thankful for the youngins I have.

Two of the funniest ladies in show business are at Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper and Diary of a Mad Mad Housewife. These two ladies keep me in stitches every time they post. I love reading their hilarious antics of their families and nary a day goes by when I don't visit their blogs. Check 'em out and prepare to giggle.

Bloggy love also goes to my new friend at Life of Liberti . I think she's a great writer and I love hearing about her boys. As a mom with same aged children as mine, I find myself saying, "Yes! You too?!" at her comments and posts. It's refreshing to see the struggles and antics aren't isolated to just my house! Keep on posting my friend!

My fellow-mom blogs that I can totally relate to, and often think they say it way better than I, are Best to Keep Your Eyes Open, A Mom's Life and Gray Matter Matters. I visit these blogs often! I can especially relate to Victoria at Eyes Open because she's a working mom. Beth at Mom's life is a SAHM and I can relate to that too, since I work from home and have all the same jobs as she!

My brother's blog is chalk full of controversy but his writing skills are extraordinary. If you like getting into virtual bantering on discussing all the no-no's (politics, religion, sex, finances), he's your man. I love him dearly, and he can be found at Random Brown, or as I like to call him, O Opinionated One. In terms of being an Excellent Blog - he's it, especially when it comes to writing style.

And last but certainly not least, is Lisa, whom I've never met, but I feel this cosmic connection to. I look forward to her posts every day and I dig her transparency. Sometimes she's funny, sometimes she's sad, sometimes she's thoughtful but she's always real. Much thanks and bloggy love goes to Mama Milton for keeping it real.

So, there's my shout out list. Hope you all proudly display your Excellent blog "sticker".

Now...hmm...where to put mine?!?

The Computer Told Me To

Whoever would have thought that technology would be advising us on how to vote?

Vote Chooser compares where you stand on key issues to how the candidates (advertise) how they stand on key issues. I guess I'm supposed to vote for Mike Huckabee! Hmm. Who knew?

Check it out for yourself!

Little Miss Smarty Pants

Every Wednesday, I anticipate my college course with much excitement. Yesterday was no different, as we were to receive the first grades -- our first quiz taken the week prior.

I'm not sure if the class just didn't understand what "quiz" meant. Or, if they thought the prof would just throw softball questions their way, but he posted the grade stats on the board, and it was dismal:

20% - 90%
Mean was 55

...a 55?!? Ouch. Thank God this is a weeder class -- we don't want people in the medical profession who get a 20% on their quizzes. But then again, in all fairness, there were students who had just added the class that day: they didn't have the book and didn't participate in the lecture the week prior so they would have taken the quiz blind. So, let's hope that person is the one with the 20. :-)

But me? :-)

I got the 90!

I'm totally jazzed because I've never been top score before (in ANYTHING). Well, I take that back. I did win a couple things: I was top salesperson in my company from 1998-2000 but that was almost ten years ago, and as we all know, in business, that don't mean squat today. And Second, I did win First Prize in 3rd grade for the running long jump at field day. So, there ya go, two prior accolades to my name.

Among the commotion of the prof handing out the graded scantrons, I called Frederer and quietly whispered, "Dude! I got top score in the class!!!!"

I kept it quiet except for the two students next to me (who asked, "Uhhh dude, what did you get?!?). I can only assume they wanted some else with which to comiserate.

The good news is, this is a field I'm really interested in, so I actually *do* read and actually *do* study the material. I study hard, actually. Better and more than I've ever studied before. In fact, I give more effort here in this class than I do at my job... speaking of which, it's 7:30 and I gotta go.... :-)

Spring Fever, Hairstyle Version

Every February, my Dad gets cabin fever. My parents live in Colorado and he can only take so much of the winter. Which surprises me, considering he grew up in Chicago. So, the way he deals with his cabin-feverness is to make a major electronics purchase. Big screen TVs are usually the item of choice, but I'm sure a new computer, iPod, aircraft gadgets or whatever will suffice.

Me? I usually cut my hair.

You know, the whole Spring Fever and Spring-is-right-around the corner feeling? After three weeks of pretty much cloudy, rainy and cold days, today is a Spring Fever day. It's sunny outside -- not a cloud in the sky -- and deceptively alluring. It's 40 degrees outside (but, hey, it's sunny!). My first thought was, "I need to make a hair appointment!"

So, ladies -- whatch'a think? Which style looks the best? I'm in need of a change I think.

Courtesy of http://www.thehairstyler.com/

The Pinata

To my BIL serving overseas in the Air Force -- we miss you and hope you're safe and sound. M's little family birthday party was fun, but you were missed. We know you would have had fun with our ghetto-pinata too.

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

Yesterday was my neice's 8th birthday. We had a small family gathering at my in-laws', and dinner included yummy country ribs, corn on the cob, "the" Costco salad, and a yummy homemade yellow birthday cake with strawberry filling. YUM!

Then it came time for presents and the pinata! I know my father-in-law spent time rigging the pinata in the garage. That's just how he is. He's old school -- he fixes things when us Gen-X'ers would just huck it in the trash. He's painstakingly patient when it comes to unravelling the yo-yo string when most of us would just throw it away. He figures out a way to reattach the oversized wheel on the new Jeep toy that Gorby's just broken, and assembles tree swings, training wheels and Disney Cars/Princess tables & chairs with the best of 'em. It would be no surprise to me to learn that he'd spent significant time rigging the pinata on the garage door mechanism so that my neice can have a nice experience at her birthday.

It's also no shocker to me to learn that anything created in China is worth crap. Crap, I tell ya, crap!

My SIL decides that Gorby is up to give the pinata a first whack -- he's the youngest after all, and seriously, how much damage can a 3 1/2 year old do? Well, after the first whack....

The pinata breaks free from the plastic zip-tie holding it to the rope, and proceeds to fly across the room. (Not unlike "fly away Stanley -- beee frrrrreeeeeee!)

So, my tenacious father-in-law sighs, picks it up and examines said crap-from-China to see if he can reattach it (why oh why do they make such SHIT!?!). Poor guy -- I'm sure he spent all this time rigging it and with one whack it's broken. :-(

He's contemplating another way to rig the pinata while the rest of us stand there, freezing in the garage. We're all getting a bit ansy when Tommy, my 20-year old brother-in-law says, "Just hold it!"

We all look at him with a "huhhhhh?" look.

Hold. The. Pinata.

While.

three.

kids.

whack.

it.

with.

a.

4-foot.

dowel?

Uhhhh okay.....well, YOU hold it oh-brave one.

Tommy goes and picks up the pinata and Gorby, all BOY, holds the dowel like a baseball bat and takes another couple of whacks. Good job Gorby -- he's made a dent. Tommy's fingers are in tact so we continue on...

Ruby is up next, and she picks up the dowel and takes a whack...and another...and another.... and Tommy is shrieking! I see it now -- Ruby is attacking the pinata full force like she's holding a samurai sword. Hiiiii-yah! Tommy keeps moving backward and has now backed himself against the garage door! Best of all, he's now using the pinata as a shield.

Up comes the birthday girl, and she gives a valliant effort. But by now, I'm missing her shot at whacking it because my SIL and I are laughing so hard at the ghetto-ness of our failed pinata attempt and Tommy holding it with an outstretched arm while three candy-seeking zombies attack him with a 4-foot, 1" diameter'd dowel. I have visions of us visiting the Urgent Care Clinic tonight...

Finally, and last but not least, Frederer grins and grabs the dowel. Tommy grins a nervous grin (Frederer is 13 years older than Tommy and brothers will be brothers). Frederer grins an "Ohhh Yeah" grin. It's almost like a Mexican standoff -- Frederer with the dowel and Tommy with this pathetic pinata shield. One whack and Snoopy, Woodstock and the rest of the Peanuts gang are shattered to smithereens and candy goes flying everywhere.

A very successful and funny -- albeit ghetto -- pinata experience I'd say.

Conversation Bits in the Proudneck Home

(Our Hobbit family name is Proudneck, in case you're wondering....)

I've started collecting some conversation bits that take place in our home, namely when Frederer is here and the action really gets rolling.

It's Saturday morning breakfast. Gorbulas has once again woke at 6:15am and Daisy is the lucky winner to be up with him. He's still quite energetic when Frederer rolls out of bed at 8:30. Frederer complains that Gorby is too excited for a Saturday morning. Poor guy hasn't even had coffee yet.

"Stop Running! Son, am I going to have to pop your head off today?"

Gorby stops running, puts his finger to his bottom lip and looks up, contemplating the question. "Ummm....nope! Not today, Dadda!"

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Daisy: "Hey.....who put a napkin in the rat's cage?"

Gorby: "Not me!"

Ruby (shouting): "YES!!! It was HIM!!!"

Gorby (also shouting): "No!!!!!!!"

Ruby (shouting more): "Yes!!!!!"

Daisy: "Alright, shut it -- both of you! Guys, come on, we cannot put napkins in the rat's cage, it'll make him sick. Now, who put it in there?"

Gorby: "Not me."

Ruby: Sighs and rolls her eyes.

Daisy: "Hey bud, did you put the napkin on top of the cage and then the rat just pulled it in?"

Gorby: "Ummm......yep. I did that. It wasn't a napkin...it was a wet wipe."

Daisy: Ahhh, well, that makes all the difference then.

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When the kids are acting up in the car, we play a game called "Who Am I?" I do all sorts of voiceovers for Barney, Kermit the Frog, Ernie and Bert, Cookie Monster, Elmo, the Teletubbies, etc. and the kids have to guess who I am.

Gorby, Ruby and I are sitting at the kitchen table today, and Ruby's doing her Explode the Code homework and I'm doing my homework on breaking down the compounds of amino acids. Fun!

Ruby is practicing writing "wig", "mitt", "dig", and "fish" (we're practicing the "I" obviously) and she says, "Dig!" to which I respond and unconsciously start singing, "dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig....dig the whole day thru!" which is the song the 7 Dwarfs sing in the caves.

I look at Gorby and say, "Who Am I?"

To which he replies, "The Hi-Ho's!!!!!!"

The Whole Foods Phone Call

Frederer and I are on a new eating plan. We're trying to eat healthy and make small changes that will help ensure success without a jumping-in-the-deep-end situation. We recently switched to whole wheat pasta, and it was actually REALLY good. I wholeheartedly recommend Hodgson Mill's whole wheat angel hair. Yummy!

Ruby had her first drop-and-go birthday party today, so I had 3 full hours to do whatever I wanted. I was almost beside myself! Truly giddy, I called Frederer to tell him I was taking a field trip to Whole Foods. My goodness....that's like an amusement park for me!

So, the call goes like this...

"Hey babe, I'm out grocery shopping and wanted to know what you wanted for Super Bowl food tomorrow."

"Whatever," he says, "Anything is fine."

"Okay great, I'm thinking of doing Indian. Whole Foods has this great deli...."

"Wait, wait wait wait wait....Indian? Hell, No."

"Well...why? It's actually really good. They've got fresh Naan bread, and I picked up some plum sauce and chicken curry salad and I could get other stuff too."

"Chicken. Curry. Salad? On Super Bowl Sunday? No."

Hehehehe.
I actually had him sweatin' this one.

"Fine. What were you thinking then?"

"How about pizza, jalapeno poppers and potato skins?" he says.

He's not helping me here on the whole "eating well" front.

"Really? Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Well, how about Pad Thai noodles and grilled chicken tenderloins with a side of peanut sauce?"

"Awwwww come, ON baby! This is Super Bowl Sunday! Tell you what -- you get whatever the hell you want to get and just get me some Super Bowl food ok?

Hehehehe. I truly am evil. Really.

"Oh alright....." I say, grinning.

So, on deck tomorrow is a his and hers menu:

Hers
Chicken tenders with peanut sauce
Pad Thai noodles
Curried Chicken Salad and Naan
Brightly colored veggie plate with dip
Asiago dip with whole wheat crackers

His
Chicken wings w/ranch and celery (gasp! the ONE lone veggie!)
Potato skins with goopy cheddar cheese, bacon bits, and sour cream
Chips & Queso
Pizza
Pot stickers
(and an angiogram on the side)

I draw the line on the deep fried jalapeno poppers.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday to you all!

Me Me Me I Love Myself! I Put My Picture on My Shelf

Second week of class and I'm still encouraged and still hopeful! The class is Introduction to Human Biology, and I must say, it's very, very interesting. The text keeps my attention and I'm such the good little student with my note cards and highlighter.

This week's class had a quiz on Chaps 16 and 17, Human Sexuality and Human Development. I never knew what an acrosome was, but today, I do. Before Wednesday, I had no idea what a blastocyst was, but hey, today I'm that much smarter. And, hey, did you know that the chorion develops into the fetus-side of the placenta? Yeah, me neither and I've been living a full life thusfar.

I say all these things because a) I know them and b) I studied -- actually studied -- and did very well on our first quiz -- I got 35 out of 40, which thankfully is an 88%. If it weren't for those stupid trick questions where one small, tiny word was off, I would have made a 92%...but hey, I digress.

The quiz.

Ahh yes, I must share about "the quiz."

First and foremost, I find it comical that the 19-year old hussie across from me isn't prepared and doesn't have a ScanTron. Ha! Sucks to be you, honey! Nor does the 40-something-year old woman in front of her have a #2 pencil. Ha! Sucks to be you too, sweety.

But, gosh I'm such a sucker.

I'm such the enabler.

Yes, yes, I gave the hussie a scantron and loaned "unprepared at 40" a pencil. Gosh, aren't I Mrs. Niceguy. (actually, now that I think about it, I actually AM Mrs. Niceguy, because my Frederer *IS* Mr. Niceguy!). Okay -- focus, must focus, back to my thoughts on quiz.

You know you're in the Bay Area when the professor says, "I don't want to kill trees" and does his quizzes electronically on the overhead projector. Gotta be quick people, or he'll scroll right past your question. Doesn't fare so well for those that don't know the material -- I mean, come ON people, it's multiple choice, either you know what allentois is or you don't.

So the class has about 50 people in it. Red and yellow, black and white, we're all precious in his sight -- except for the huffing and puffing, clearly unprepared and doesn't have a clue girl two rows over. After the 40 question quiz is done, she huffs, "Are all the quizzes going to be like this?!?" Prof quips, "Yep." Ha! I love this guy!

Another lady couple seats in front of me complains, "Forty questions for a QUIZ! That's more like a test!" Prof clarifies, "Uh no, tests are like 200 questions." Ahhhhh good to know; you ask the irritating questions honey, and I'll just sit back, relax and enjoy my flight.

Going to back to school as an adult with a husband, two awesome children, a fantastic career and a huge mortgage, I know how to balance responsibilities and prioritize. That's one of many things I have over these "kids" who are full time students and just starting out (with the exception of a select few, Tommy being one of them).

I've learned that if you aren't prepared, you will fail. Which would be fine except there are consequences to failure: it could be intrinsic and you could feel like a loser; it could be extrinsic and you could go into foreclosure or lose custody of your children or lose your job; or, as it relates to school, you could NOT study and do poorly; you might not FAIL per se, but you won't know the material and that's what it's all about really...the grades will come, if you know your material.

Black and white. Cause and Effect. Reap and Sow.

This time around, I plan on keeping these thoughts in the forefront of my mind.