The Screaming Woman Unleashed

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. We celebrated with all the homeschoolers from our church. My dear friend D. said, "Hey wanna have a party?" I said, "Yeah!" So we sketched out a plan, made calls and voila instant party with 54ish kids and 13 moms. It all went really well until after lunch the 54ish kids had no direction or planned activity to follow. One of the games was "jump the river", you lay two ropes parallel and spread them farther apart each time a kid jumps over until they start "falling in". Well the ropes turned into an instant tug of war game run amuck with all ages pulling and screaming, it was all good. I was standing watching the mayhem unfold when I notice one of the 5 year olds stuck in the middle of the rope panicking and the two sides were pulling while he was saying, "No, No, No". It's funny that of all the moms surrounding the scene I am the one that screams, "STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!!!" in my most hysterical authoritative voice. Well, it had an instant reaction those kids scattered like roaches when you turn the light on. I grabbed the rope and rolled it up and said something like, "that'll be enough of that..hah ha ha ha ha". Then I realized, I'm the only one that reacted to that. Am I a control freak? Fast forward 40 minutes.

We were cleaning up. My two oldest needed to go to their BLC classes and a friend was waiting to give them a ride. I had told Seth to get his socks and shoes on and get his backpack...twice. I looked across the room and saw that he had not moved from the chair he was lounging in, so out came my drill sergeant voice "SETH! MOVE! NOW!" The child catapulted out of the chair and I turned to see two or more of my friends snickering at me. Good grief! I am a psychotic, overreactive, power monger devouring all small children in my path that don't listen to me or cause chaos.

Did I mention that I was strung out on cold medicine and 24 oz of high fueled coffee? I had the jitters most of the day. Thank God I don't do recreational drugs, I would be a menace to society.
But, my sister told me today that I do have a very low tolerance for chaos. This is a true statement, and therefore I should not be the person planning parties for 54ish kids.

Just Stick It Up Him

When I was five Thunder entered my life. He was our black Standard Poodle. Thunder was the sweetest, smartest dog and the closest thing I got to a little brother. He lived until I was a sophomore in college, just died in his sleep.

Thunder developed a heart condition when I was in high school. Later, when I was working at an animal hospital I discovered he probably had heart worms. Anyway, we always knew where he was because his breathing became very labored, he sounded like an Orge rattling around the house. My mom brought home a prescription to help his breathing and sat it on the counter with a note, "Give Thunder his medicine." My sister ,Rechelle, and I read the bottle, "Give one pill twice a day." Okay, so how do you give a dog his medicine????? This was obviously too much for two teenage girls. My sister called our vet and asked how to administer the pills and the answer she was given was, "Just stick it up him". So I took the first round. Luckily we had a pair of yellow rubber gloves under the kitchen sink, it's very important to have the proper attire when you are about to stick it to a dog. Rechelle patted Thunder on the head while I held up his stump of a tail and nervously tried to get the tiny pill into his pulsating sphincter. I think I pushed it in about an inch and decided that should do. I have never seen a dog tuck tail and run to a door so fast in my life.

We tortured him a couple more times before one of us decided it just couldn't be right to be shoving pills up our dog's rear. Another call to the vet confirmed our stupidity and we laughed so hard we were crying. Poor Thunder, he put up with a lot.

Boxie Feet

Levi's feet are soft little boxes.

Ellen and I spent the afternoon shopping for nothing. She is beautiful, calm, sweet. I love the way she is growing up. She is the girl I always wanted to be. She's confident about her looks, she doesn't care that much about clothes (although that's changing a bit). She's smart and tries really hard until she accomplishes a task....like piano, she loves to play, I hated it. I love that. The best thing about Ellen is how much she loves her family. I've never seen a bond between siblings like Ellen has with Seth. I hope that doesn't change and I pray for a similar bond between Isaac and Levi.

Seth made his first goal in a basketball game today. No, I didn't see it.

Isaac makes me tell him stories about funny things like a monster that lives in the basement with the name Door. I start every story the same way..."Once upon a time there was a little boy named Isaac..." But on this occasion he stopped me and said, "No, no Door!" "You want me to call the little boy Door?" I question. "Yeah!" came his response. "Okay, once upon a time there was a little boy named Door...." "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Door!" and then we both commenced to laughing hysterically.

Remember that time I said this blog was all about me and I wasn't going to write about the Fabulous 4? Weak moment of gushing pride.

When Life Got Easier

I knew my life was on the up swing when..
1. I could afford to buy the off brand fabric softner.
2. I could pay for gas at the pump and not unload my young to go in to pay.
3. Debit Card could be used at Aldi's.
4. Gap started carrying long jeans in my size.
5. My daughter is old enough to babysit.

Okay now just to make you all feel better here are some down swing moments...
1. The day the cats peed in the van and now on hot days the van smells like cat urine.
2. I didn't use up my gift certificate at Ginger Bay Spa and it expired.
3. Someone stepped on my cell phone and now the screen is bleeding and unreadable.


My thought for the day: for every shiny new item in my home there are 5 garage sale, broken, hand-me-down items to keep Southern Living far far away from knocking on my door for a photo shoot.

Isaac's funny saying for the day, "Mom, I want to stop tooting so I can get on with living my life!" Oh, the humanity!

These Boots Were Made For Mistaken

Melanie, this is for you.

Several years ago I made the vain purchase of a pair of high heeled black boots. I shopped long and diligently for just the right pair that wouldn't go out of fashion too quickly and was comfortable enough to wear for at least 4 hours.

This year I made the vain purchase of a pair of brown mid heel boots. The sales lady said, "Oh! You wouldn't want anything higher than that!" After I pondered her youthful look and comment, it sunk in she was referring to my statuesque appearance. “You’re saying that because I’m tall?” I asked in my most teacher-mother-I’m older than you so don’t speak again voice. Then my need to explain my entire life story overtook my snotty woman posture and I ended up telling this teenager how being tall bothered me when I was younger, but then I married a giant and now I feel okay about myself…until little twits remind me that I’m not so normal after all!

So into my closet go the brown boots.

This morning was the Lord’s Day. My husband had deacon duty (a.k.a. Deacon Doodie, DD), I had pulpit flower and coffee clean up and our pastor has given his annual speech imploring his flock to get to church before 9 a.m., so if you happen to be late this month, you will look like a complete schmuck.

I got dressed put on my brown pumps, felt I looked put together and was ready to go, until my DD Darling Husband says, “Your boots would look better.” So into the closet I slip on my brown boots and out the door across the garage and into the van we go. We drive 20 minutes to church and arrive a lovely 15 minutes early. I take approximately 10 steps towards the church and get a glimpse of the lovely squared toed brown boot on my left foot followed by the rounded toe of the black boot on my right foot. Horrors! I did an about face and spit, “Honey! Look at my feet! I can’t go into church like this!” He said nothing just handed me the keys. I had no choice but to drive back home and change. As I walked through the garage it was painfully clear that the shoes were different heel heights and even sounded different. I am truly a victim of fashion and a complete idiot!