Happy Birthday!!

Quoth Alan, "I don't feel 40." Well, what does 40 feel like? I won't know until October. But Alan is paving the way because today is his birthday!!! Happy Birthday, my love!

Now Alan, I know you are a little freaked out about turning 40 but you shouldn't worry. You still have your looks (oh so sexy) your health (turn and cough,) your hair (all over the place--ha ha,) a gorgeous wife (who thinks you are the bees knees,) and two beautiful kids to keep you young (or make you old before your time, you decide.) What do you have to worry about? You are living the good life, baby. So, enjoy your birthday because today you are special!! (But tomorrow you are just 40.)

Have fun and don't break a hip!!

I Object!

I am starting a new segment entitled "I Object!" which will be dedicated to things that stick in my craw. So here we go.

I Object!...to people who whine about having to listen to Christmas music throughout the month of December. It never fails, every year I will hear a handful of people making snide comments like, "Ugh, Christmas music, already?" or "I cannot bear to listen to anymore Christmas music!" That really frosts my boughs of holly.

I happen to love Christmas music! I have around 50 CDs of Christmas music and I usually buy a new CD or two every year. I have a 50 disc changer and I put all the CDs in it and hit random play. I love it! I love hearing different artists sing their take on the classics and I love it when they make up a new song. It makes me happy, ok? (Except that one song about the boy buying shoes for his mom because she's going to meet Jesus for Christmas. Oh how I hate that song. It is one of THE worst songs ever written--right up there with that song that goes..."Daddy please don't, it wasn't his fault, he means so much to me, Daddy please don't, we're gonna get married, just you wait and see." OMG--cough, wretch--blech! Horrid!

What's wrong with you Christmas music haters? What is it that irritates you? Is it the joy? The peace and goodwill? The candy canes and silver lanes? Yeah, I can see how that stuff is soooo annoying. (sarcasm)

I dedicate this video of Christmas favorites to you. Watch it...it's got Santa, trees, lights, decorations, Elvis, an adorable kitten, and polar bears. Polar bears will be burned to a crisp in 10 years so enjoy them now! I think you haters need a big ole Christmas music enema to fill the void where your soul should be.

I will not be ignored!

What's with all this Tiger Woods stuff? Make no mistake, I do appreciate a juicy little gossip and this story was interesting for about 3 hours. If this happened in my neighborhood, we would be standing around whispering, "Well, all I know is that he just happened to crash his car in his driveway at 2 in the morning...and his wife just happened to be standing by with a golf club. And when the cops showed up, he just happened to have jealous wife markings all over his face. Mmmmm hmmmmm."

We would all keep a close eye on the couple for a little while to see if any more drama ensued, but after a few days of nothing, we would get back to worrying about our own life. I certainly wouldn't be knocking on their door demanding to know what happened. And I definitely wouldn't be trying to access his medical records to release to all the neighbors. Because it is really none of my business!!

I fully support Tiger's right not to say squat about this incident. If the police are going to charge him, then they should get on with it! If he was stepping out on her and if she intended to use the golf club to beat the cheater out of him--well, that's between the two of them, right?

Let me also state that I support Tiger's wife and her methods of keeping her man in check. She's my kind of lady. I firmly believe that every happy marriage needs a hint of psycho-- a touch of irrational rage, a dash of the third-degree, a pinch of stalking, an occasional threat or two (the kind where you both are giggling about it until he catches the look of steel in your eye and he stops with a gulp, wondering 'She's not serious...is she?') Men sometimes have a little difficulty with focus so I make sure I keep his eyes on the prize...Me! Alan had a pre-marriage screening of "Fatal Attraction" and he knows (because I remind him) that I abide by the motto "If I can't have you, no one will." I refuse to be one of those women who gets dumped in their 50s after raising the children and keeping the house for her husband all those years. Alan is fully aware that if tries that shit, I am prepared to take him out. (And I don't mean take out as in 'out to dinner.' I mean take out as in 'YOU GO DISCUSS YOUR NEEDS WITH SATAN AND JON GOSSELIN, YOU CHEATING CHEATER--BANG!!') So, if I have to beat the crap out of some bitches along the way or bring the 'Chris Brown' to Alan from time to time, then so be it. I am just fighting for my marriage. I do it because I love him.

If Tiger is cheating or even thinking about it, then I say he deserves a little 9 iron beat down. This woman is the mother of his children and she has put up with him hanging out on the golf course for 80% of his life. Plus look at her...

Would you cheat on that!?! Damn, she's even turning me on!!

Facebook has taken my brain

I've just got nothing right now. I need some time to compose my thoughts so I have some entertainment for you. I discovered this video about a year ago but it still makes me laugh. It's called 'Everyday Normal Guy.' Get out the headphones because it has inappropriate language (my favorite kind.) He does have a part 2 which is good but not as good as the first. And part 3 which, as with most part 3s, sucks. But the first one is just genius.

Lightning can strike twice

I once posted (Waxing Poetic)about a very special person in my life--my deaf Brazilian waxer, Anna Paula. She took very good care of me until last spring. When I called to make my appointment, I found that she had moved away to D.C.--that bitch! How could she?! She didn't even sign goodbye me!


I reluctantly made an appointment with a new girl. I didn't even ask her name--why bother? She wasn't Anna Paula. And not only wasn't she my wonderful deaf Brazilian, but she was terrible. I had the 2nd worst waxing experience of my life. During the waxing she kept making that sucking air sound through her teeth--you know, the sound you hear when you see something really gruesome and you think, "That's got to hurt!" I left with a black and blue crotchital area and a vow to NEVER wax again.


Throughout the summer I tried shaving but that's just not pleasant. The result is itchy, bumpy, sharp stubbleness. (And Brer Rabbit said, "Whatever you do, please don't throw me in that briar patch!!") So when the weather turned, I just gave up and let it go. Until...last week. Alan, while staring at my area, asked, "So, what are you doing with that?" I said, "I'm growing my winter coat. You got a problem with that?" He said, "No, no problem. I was just wondering." Mmmm Hmmmm...just asking. Right.

So I called the spa and made another appointment for a bare bikini (somewhere between a bikini and a full Brazilian.) I also made sure I didn't get the savage who waxed me last. I was still dreading it until I met Skyler, my new waxer. She was sweet, easy to chat with, gentle, and fast. Best of all, she wasn't intimidated by, as Alan called it, my 70's Porn star look. I didn't think it would ever happen again, but it did...I love her. And the sun is once again shining on my hoo-ha, so to speak.

Monday funny

It's Monday and you need a little giggle, so watch this. If you don't think this is funny, then grab the nearest 5 year old to watch it with. You will laugh at them laughing at it. Trust me. I've seen it like 75 times and it never gets old.




Have a weiner day!

Lesson learned

Make no mistake about it, people, parenting is a job. It is a job without monetary benefits, without promotion, and without free perks. If you thought that your life's purpose was to have children, raise children and have those children appreciate the job you did, then you will end up a sad shell of a human being. Unsolicited praise from my kids is very rare and when it does happen, I feel all giddy like a kid on Christmas morning. If there is one thing I have learned as a parent, it is never to look to my kids for any kind of validation of my worth. Here's my most recent example.

I volunteered to bring in a Halloween snack for Shepard's kindergarten class. I decided to go all out--I made bloodshot monster eyeball cupcakes, square pretzels half dipped in chocolate and black and orange sprinkles, and string cheese cut into the shape of a creepy finger with a slice of grape for the fingernail. It took me most of the evening before and the morning of snack day to complete the food. On snack day, I personally delivered the snacks to his class and helped the teacher serve them on carefully chosen Halloween napkins.

That afternoon when Shepard arrived home I asked him, "Shepard, did you like the Halloween snacks I brought to your class?" He replied, "No, it was yucky. I didn't eat it." Shepard is an extremely picky eater and if things look the least bit different he refuses to try it. However, I had worked so hard and I felt really down about it. Alan had a talk with him that evening and told him, "Shepard, you really hurt Mommy's feelings. You should apologize to her."

So the next day, Shepard came up to me, took my hand as he looked me in the eyes, and said, "Mommy, I am sorry your snacks were yucky."

I am a superhero--but you knew that already

It rained here off and on all day on Halloween. But we didn't let that dampen (ha ha) our fun. We got the carving, baking and costuming done for our annual neighborhood party. This year Sage was an evil clown--he worked on his insane laugh for weeks. Shepard was the cutest little cowboy ever. Ah, he is still such an innocent flower. I wonder how long I have until he starts wanting to be a psychotic killer of some sort every year.

Alan and I were superheros this year.

Let me present to you...da da da daaaaahhh...

Captain Roadkill and Wal*Mart Woman!!!

I bought most all of my costume components at Wal*Mart! Can you believe it? I even had one of my neighbors say that I looked hot. Alan agreed and kept wanting to do rude things to Wal*Mart Woman. Man, if I knew dressing trashy would make me this desirable I would have started a long time ago.

Remember kids...

Save money, Live Better.

A sign from...no, not God.

If there was ever a more clear sign to "get blogging" (as my blogging buddy Clippy Mat so eloquently put it) then I don't know what it would be. Here it is compliments of, you guessed it, my son, Sage.

Boys will be boys, I suppose.

Looks like Scarecrow is happy to see you.

Happy Halloween!!!!!!!

Time keeps on slipping

Do I really look 39 to you?!! OK, don't answer that. And stop using your zoom, dammit!!!

All hail the Birthday girl!! That's me. I have made a birthday resolution which is to rock the last year of my 30s. This decade has been good to me. I have wonderful memories. I don't know what to expect from my 40s but I will think about that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.

I started my day with the kids giving me lots of hugs. Sage even walked with me to the bus stop instead of 10 feet in front of me. I felt so special. Then it was off to coffee with my girlfriends. I am having lunch with my mom at the botanical gardens and dinner with my whole family tonight. Should be a fun day.

When Alan and the boys were discussing my birthday present I told them not to buy anything. I said that the best present they could give me would be to keep the house clean for one week. So, they bought me Rockband 2 for the Xbox. Yes, I love it. I love the drums although I probably look like a spaz on amphetamines when I am playing. I am terrible at guitar. But I think I really shine at the mic. I could totally be a rock singer if it wasn't for the off keyness. Ha!

So what should I do in the last year of my 30s--something I have never done before. Get a tattoo? A piercing on a part other than my ear? Go to Mardi Gras? Vegas? Have sex in a car? On film? Wear a cowboy hat? Go camping? Get in a fist fight? Dye my hair? Take up wrestling? Sewing? Stick to a diet until completion? Have plastic surgery?

I will take suggestions but just keep in mind that I do not jump out or off of things. I am not afraid of heights--I am afraid of falling from them. I am ready to crazy go nuts this year. So let me know what you think. (And if you say plastic surgery, you have to name the part. But if you say my nose, I will cut you!!)

2009's putting J.Hi in a corner

Noooooo, not Swayze too!!

What the hell is going on here?! Why is the year 2009 trying to kill my childhood?

I swear if Simon Le Bon dies next, I am going to freaking LOSE IT, People!!!!

Up yours 2009!!

And don't even think about messing with Michael J. Fox!!!!!

Free at last, free at last

The kids started school last week and boy have I been lazy!!! I was sad to see my baby Shepard start kindergarten...well, I was sad for like thirty seconds after he got on the bus and then I was elated. It's the sweet smell of freedom, baby! Weeeeehoooooo!!

Shepard has adjusted well to school and says that he loves it. On Friday, he was able to pick a prize from the treasure box in his classroom for being well behaved all week. When he got off the bus he showed me his prize and said, "Look what I got on the last day!" Later we were discussing how he does not go to school on Saturday or Sunday but would return Monday. He seemed surprised and said, "Who will I have when I go back?" Ha! I guess he thought four days and he was done with kindergarten.

Sage is in 4th grade this year. On Friday, his school showed the older students the Obama speech. I asked Sage about the speech and he said, "I think it was about education or something."

I knew Shepard would do well with adjusting to school. But I did have one big concern. He is still not wiping his own butt. He can do it, he just chooses not to. He usually calls Alan or me to come in to help him. Halfway through the summer we decided to get tough with him and refuse to come when he called. But the child would just sit there. I swear I think he would have sat on the toilet all day waiting for us to do his dirty work. I couldn't stand it and would usually go in and help him. However, with school coming, I knew I had to dole out some tough love.

This was a typical exchange...

"Moooooommmy!!! Come here!, I'm in the bathroom!!!

No Shepard, you have to try and wipe yourself!

Mommy!!

No! I'm not coming.

Mommy, I'm not pooping. I'm stuck! I'm stuck in the bathroom, Mommy. Come here!

Shepard, you have to try wiping first and then I will come and check you!

But it hurts my arm to wipe!

Shepard, everyone on the whole planet wipes. I know you can do it too.

Mommy, come here!!!

No!!

Come on, Mommy. I'll buy you new pillows!!!!"

Ok, how am I supposed to resist that? It's mental torture. Alan was more impervious to his pleas and when he was there I had to rely on his strength. One day Shepard called, "Daaaaaady, come here!" When Alan refused, he continued, "Moooooomy!!!" I refused. Then there was a pause. "Saaaaaaage!!!" Sage said, "Oh No!! I don't think so."

I finally had a serious talk to Shepard explained to him that when he went to kindergarten his teacher would not wipe his butt. I asked him what he was going to do if he pooped at school. He said, "I am only going to do number one at school." Well, at least he has a plan. Hope that works for him. I did tell Sage that I was going to have to list him as Shepard's 'Poop contact' so he could help Shepard wipe at school. Sage said, "Well, I hope it's during Math class."

Picture perfect

Here's the picture montage I made for Alan. Watch it quick because YouTube said they might shut it down since I used a copyrighted song.

Party in the U.S.A.

I threw Alan a party for his birthday this past Saturday. He actually turns 40 on December 8th however, he wanted a summer party so we could hang out on the porch and deck. So we called it a '39 and holding' party. It was a great success but whoa, am I tired! I had to cat nap off and on all day yesterday and then slept a good 8 hours last night. I still feel a little slow today but life goes on and so must I.

One thing I did realize while planning this party was that it was much easier to pull off then some of the parties we gave in our 20s. When I think back I remember Alan and I frantically cleaning, buying food and drink, and setting up all by ourselves. And a lot of the time we had low turnout--people would be very noncommittal or have other things going on. It was very frustrating. But now it seems like we have no problem pulling off a great party. I had so many people come to me and say, "What can I do?" One of the advantages of getting older, I suppose, people are just as busy but not so self-centered.

The magician/juggler I hired was a great success. I was worried people would think it was cheesy but the guy was great. He did the most amazing card tricks, was very funny, and, best of all, juggled fire on my deck. Oh how I wish I could juggle fire. That is always a crowd pleaser.

After the juggler left, I did a little tribute to Alan. I went over some Alan trivia, read a history of Alan and showed a picture slide show. I am going to throw it on You Tube and post it later. We had great fun and have a wonderful memory to cherish. But it is a good thing my 40th is over a year away because there is only so much fun I can stand in one year. I'm getting older, you know.

My tribute to John Hughes

When Sage was 6, I found him like this one day. He said, "Daddy taught me how to do this." Alan was so busted! But I had to smile since it was right out of one of my favorite teen movies "Weird Science."

Gary?... By the way, why are we wearing bras on our heads?

Ceremonial

RIP John, you made me laugh

And I thought I loved him then

Country songs just hit right home with me. I heard a song this morning that made me smile. It was Brad Paisley's song "Then." I really related to the sentiment in the song, especially today.

I remember, trying not to stare the night that I first met you, You had me mezmorized...

I first met Alan while in our 4th year of college. We were out at a bar with friends and our groups happened to be standing next to each other in the back of the room. He quietly sang along with the band. I remember his smile when I teased "I love it when you sing to me." We saw each other out a few more times that semester and we flirted, but he was never pushy. In fact, I finally had to ask him out. I called to invite him to my sorority formal and he accepted. And then he asked me out for that night. And we never looked back.

I hadn't told you yet, but I thought I loved you then...

We dated a little over two years. I'll never forget how we used to kiss at every stoplight while driving around town. The first time he told me he loved me, I responded with, "I think I love you too." He wasn't offended, he just giggled at me. I was so guarded but he knew that. He was alway so sure about us. He won me over.

We've come so far since that day, And I thought I loved you then...

I told him that when he proposed, I didn't want him down on one knee. I wanted him to start our life together just like we would live our life together--on the same level--partners. I couldn't wait to marry him. And, like our first dance song said, it was a whole new world. It was a big adjustment but we did it together.

And now you're my whole life, now you're my whole world...

Alan is just a great person. He can still surprise me after all these years. He makes me laugh. He loves me even when I don't deserve it. He is a wonderful father. My boys are so lucky. He has been right beside me for every major and minor decision--every happy time, every sad time. He's knows me best and he still loves me.

What I can't see is how I'm ever gonna love you more,But I've said that before...

I love you, Alan. Happy 15th Anniversary!!

Let sleeping kids lie

Sage crawled into bed with me early this morning and said, "Shepard looks so cute when he is sleeping." I told him "Well, God invented sleep so parents would keep their children." I explained, "Some days kids drive their parents crazy and misbehave so much that by the end of the day the parents say 'We can't take it anymore!!!' and then the kid goes to sleep. When the parents come to check on the child, the child looks like a little angel--so sweet and innocent. And the parents' hearts are filled with love and they decided to keep him. I asked him, "When you looked at Shepard sleeping, did you feel all lovey toward him?" Sage nodded. "See, it works!"

Sage reminded me of the time when he was 2 and we were trying to transition him from a crib to a toddler bed. He was having a very hard time with the transition. He loved the idea of having a big boy bed but when it came to actually sleeping in it, he didn't like that so much. We would put him to bed and then return later to find he had left the bed and fallen asleep in another part of his room. Here he is behind the door...

Under the rocking chair...

Under the bed...

In the corner with all his stuffed animals...

And finally, (this one nearly gave me a heart attack), up on the changing table.

When I'm at work and new parents ask me, "Should I wake the baby?" My answer is always NO! They'll learn soon enough...you never wake a sleeping child.

I am...Polka Master!!

Alan will turn 40 in December. However, he wants an outdoor party for his birthday so I am throwing him a "39 and holding" party at the end of August. Yes, you are all invited. Anyway, the planning has already begun because I want it to be SPECTACULAAAARRRRR!! I have been exchanging emails with a few entertainers, one of which happens to be an accordion player. (You have to understand what I am going for with this party; I crave an air of cheesy, but memorable, ridiculocity.) Initially I sent this man a short, polite note inquiring about his rate and availability. This was his reply, "Where, what location?" There was no "hi, how are you, thanks for your interest, yada yada" just "where, what location?" So I wrote him back with the name of my subdivision and where in my city it was located. So here is the reply I got...

"I know where" your subdivision "is located. I just needed to know in town or out-of-town for quote purposes. I've booked 187 engagements this year, to-date; your date of August 29 is currently open on my booking schedule for your starting time frame at 6PM but that could change at any time(I'm playing earlier that same day). If interested, I would suggest you book me now, not later, to be assured the date will remain open on my booking schedule."

I know I shouldn't try to infer tone from an email but he came off a little too big for his frilly britches to me. He included his resume and a picture of himself and then assigned me eight questions that I was supposed to answer and send back. Here's the kicker--he charges $200/hour!!!!!!!! What the hell?! You know in my job I help sick people get well and I don't make one fourth of what this ass clown is asking. I quickly replied that I was still exploring my options and would not be booking him at this time.

Mr. (self-proclaimed) Polka Master wrote back again and said this...

"So you're shopping around? I don't compete with anyone from this area; I play accordion and sing with the best in the entire country, with a lot of charisma, and mix very well with my audience, make them feel comfortable, at home, take requests, etc. If you're looking for someone who is not a true professional with years of entertaining experience, then I'm not your choice. Can't hold your date and time frame without a commitment."

Wow, I have never run across such an uppity accordion player. Here is the email I wanted to write back to him...

Dude, do you realize you play the accordion?! Seriously, are you mental?

Well, I didn't send that email because you never know when you might really need a totally arrogant accordion player. I don't want to burn my bridges. However, I have decided to go with a roving magician/juggler/unicycler who not only sounds fun but was very polite.

A peek into the male brain

Alan and I had just woken up and were cuddling before the day began. Alan said "I had a dream about you last night." I was waiting for the graphic details--what lingerie would I be wearing and in what position. But he surprised me.

Alan, "I dreamed that you were a lesbian."

Me, "A lesbian?"

Alan, "Yeah, and not the good kind."

Me, "What do you mean--the good kind?"

Alan, "Oh you know, the kind that would let me watch or join in."

Me, "So the bad kind is..."

Alan, "The kind that would shut the door in my face and say 'We don't need you' "

Me, "Oh."

Alan, "Do I have anything to be worried about?"

Me, rolling eyes, "No."

Then 10 seconds of silence.

Alan, "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"

Me, "Of course I am."

Later in the week we were out with a couple for dinner. When I related this story to them, the woman of the couple looked as confused as I was about the good kind of lesbian. But the man said, "Oh, I knew exactly what he meant." More evidence that all men share one medium to large size brain. Ha!

Number 3

I took the boys to the dentist yesterday. Shepard was happy to go and said, "Yay, I love the dentist!"

***Side note: Let me just say, for the record, that my kids are waaaay too spoiled. When I was little I had a 60 year old scraggly-haired dentist with a gravely voice and smoker's breath. And he scared the crap out of me. I always behaved because I was paralysed with fear. I didn't want my kids to have that fear so I picked a mild mannered pediatric dentist with a bright, cheery office and prizes and balloons. Little did I realize that I was turning them into the "pansy asses" that my father predicted when he found out I got a baby wipe warmer for my baby shower.
My kids have been through about 10 toothpastes and still cannot decided on one they like and agree on--it's too minty, it's too fruity, it's too spicy, waaaaah. (And here it comes, I guess these speeches start in the late 30s...wait for it, wait for it...) BACK IN MY DAY, I had one choice of toothpaste and that was white Colgate. That's what my mom bought and that's what the whole family used and I didn't question it. Kids today!!

Sage wasn't as excited about the dentist visit being that he is not as easily impressed by cheap toys and balloons anymore. When we arrived the hygienist whisked them away for x-rays. It was Shepard's first teeth x-ray and he came back smiling. Sage took a bit longer and when he finally came out, he too had a grin on his face. He walked up to me and said, "I vomited." I surmised that the vomit was due to his strong gag reflex. He has had difficulty in the past tolerating the x-ray film back in his mouth. I guess I should have warned her. I was a bit horrified and asked, "Did you vomit on their floor?" He said, "A little bit" and again smiled looking quite pleased with himself. Then he went on to say (in his best Monty Python voice) "It smelt of ELDERBERRY!" Life is always an adventure with Sage around.

Later when Shepard found out Sage vomited he said, "You did number 3?" My kids have decided that, along with number 1 for pee and number 2 for poop, there is a number 3 which is vomit. Diarrhea is number 4. Cha Cha Cha