I Should Really Think These Things Through

On Father's Day of this year, it was also my father-in-law's birthday. He passed away 4 years ago. W. was very close to his grandfather and misses him very much. T. and R. were so young when he died, but they are often told about him, so that we can keep his memory alive. In their rooms, each child has a picture of him holding them as infants.

The morning of his birthday, the kids drew pictures and wrote letters to grandpa. We then purchased two balloons and tied the pictures to it with ribbon. We went to his gravesite and sang Happy Birthday as we released the balloons. The kids were thrilled that grandpa's gifts were going to him in heaven.

Fast forward a few weeks. The toilet is backed up and on the verge of overflowing. I get the water turned off underneath, just in time. I give R. the evil eye.

"Must you put a zillion wipes in the toilet?"

"I didn't mommy!" She exclaims.

"Okay, then it must have been toilet paper or tissues."

"NO, wrrrrroooong again!"

My blood is starting to boil as I'm plunging away.

"R. what did you put in the potty?"

"Notes."

"Notes? What do you mean notes?" I asked, completely baffled.

SHHHHWWOOOSH. Oh.Thank.GOD!

"Me and T. wrote notes and sent them to heaven for the fishes!" She announced, completely proud of herself.

I swear those fish are going to haunt me for the rest of my life!

Kate's Foundation

Last night I was on my Facebook account and saw that I had a friend request. I just love friend requests!

I have never received a request from anyone I do not already know or at least recognize. Most are from the mommy blogosphere. This request, however, was different. First of all, the account was not opened with a person's real name but a sort of pseudonym. Rare Meat wanted to be my friend. Hmmmm....interesting.

I normally would have just denied the request, but I was curious. Something told me to check this one out. Maybe a little whisper in my ear? On Facebook you must accept the request to view the person's profile. I could always remove the "friend" later, if need be.

I clicked on the accept button and proceeded to Rare Meat's profile page. I clicked on View Photos of Rare. There was only one picture. The face was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place the woman looking back at me. She seemed to be about my age. Yes, I know her, but from where or when?

I went back to her profile page and started scanning for other clues. I saw a website address. www.katesfoundation.com. It hit me.

Quite a few years ago I had heard, through high school friends, that a girl I had grown up with, had passed away from skin cancer. Rare Meat, I realized, was a woman named Amy, the sister of my classmate. She had graduated high school with MY sister. I went back to the picture. It had been over two decades, but it was clear to me now, this was indeed Amy.

I thought back to my school years. Kate, or Katie as I remember her, and I were not friends. That's not to say we were enemies, we just traveled in different circles. We did know each other, somewhat, as we did attend all 12 years of school together. We also attended religion classes in the same parish, in the same small town. I even believe we were cheerleaders together for Pee-Wee Football during 6th grade.

I remember hearing of her passing and thinking how sad her family must be. I thought, "What a horrible ordeal Katie must have gone through."

I clicked on Kate's Foundation link on Amy's Facebook profile. There I read the heartbreaking story of Katie's diagnosis and illness as retold by her father. I also came to know of how strong and giving she was.

Kate began her Foundation before she lost the battle to Melanoma in October of 2000. Amy and her family have carried on her memory by continuing to educate people on the dangers of this horrible disease.

I worry about skin cancer, as I am fair skinned with a lot of moles. I have not always taken care of myself in the sun. I recall many bad burns during my teen years. I never wore sunblock. For God's sake, I used baby oil and a foil covered record album to tan my face!

Thankfully I have taken better care of my children than I did myself. My son, W., has Vitiligo and he also has some pretty large moles, though only 10. I make sure to use sunblock on him and his siblings whenever they are in the sun. W. and I have also been seeing a dermatologist, annually, since he was 6 years old. She is keeping close eye on the large moles he has and has informed me that she made need to take them off in the next few years due to their size.

Now that summer is upon us, please remember to do all you can for you and your children to protect yourselves. Stop by Kate's Foundation and read up on Melanoma Facts, Prevention, and how to perform a Self-Screen (download and print a bookmark to use as a handy reference tool).

Amy, thank you for contacting me. You have opened my eyes and you have touched my heart. Good luck in your fight....in remembrance of Katie.

Superballs And Bouncy Balls

Today was one of those days that one second I wanted to beat my kids and the next second I wanted to, well, beat my kids.

I had to go to the grocery store. I've mentioned before, I HATE to go grocery shopping. Taking that into consideration, imagine my excitement going grocery shopping with all 3 kids. Yea, I was just thrilled to pieces.

On the way there I did the usual. I ran down the list of do's and don'ts, all the while wondering why I just wasn't conserving my energy. I'm sure they weren't listening and they certainly weren't going to follow the rules anyway. It's just not in their nature.

You see mine are active and curious. They bounce around like Superballs. They check out everything. They.Never.Stop! They suck in public places.

They are good kids, really they are, they just have way too much energy and a huge need to explore.and.touch.every.freaking.thing.that.piques.their.interest.

I'll give you an example. Now mind you, I'm already approaching the breaking point. I have only two more things to find and put into my cart. I'm in the meat department looking for something for dinner. Some smart-alecky employee was nice enough to place a huge metal bin of brightly colored bouncy balls next to the pork chops. That's like putting all that darned candy at the checkout. Evil, evil people they are. As I'm looking for Italian Sausage, I hear bing, bing, bing. I took a deep breath, because I know it has something to do with my spawn.

W., T., and R. are taking the balls out of the bottom of the bin and playing basketball with them. The balls have gotten lodged near the top of the bin and they wanted to put the loose ones from the bottom all at the top.

Now, this really wouldn't have been so bad if R. was a better shot or a foot taller. Before I could even stop her, she threw a ball up. I watched as it bounced off the bin and smacked into the lady next to me. I was like a deer in the headlights. I couldn't move. The poor, startled woman practically dropped her rump roast when she was hit in her, um, rump roast.

The vein in my head was about to explode when all of a sudden I heard a rumbling. I spun around. The balls had come dislodged, with a little help from T., and were now falling to the bottom of the bin. Balls were shooting out in all different directions across the floor.

I looked up at the security camera overhead and I burst out laughing. Yes, I went absolutely hysterical. I guess it was that or cry. Whomever was monitoring in the back room must have been getting their daily chuckle. That, or they were getting ready to call the cops or Children's Services, thinking I might crack at any moment.

"Hello? 911? I think we've got a loon in need of a straight jacket here!"

Needless to say, my children stuck close to me during checkout. I lined them up against the wall and if they had blindfolds and cigarettes, they would have looked like they were waiting for the firing squad.

Next time, I don't care if we only have a slice of bread in the house, I'm going solo!

Next Time I'll Buy Them A Stuffed Animal

We purchased one of those Intex Metal Frame pools for the yard. It's 18' X 48", so it's a nice size. On Saturday we measured off the area for the pool and Mr. Schmitty took a shovel and dug the shape of a circle. We need to level off the area, as our yard is very bumpy and on a slight incline, so the pool doesn't collapse. While he did this, I cleaned out the shed, which was a huge mess. A thunderstorm rolled in right after the circle was formed so we needed to pack it in. It now looks like a UFO landed in our backyard.

We were too tired and hot to make dinner and the troops were getting cranky. We decided to go to a local diner. On the way there I saw something in the middle of the road. It was a box turtle! I told Mr. Schmitty to go back and save it before someone ran it over. We almost had.

Of course, the kids started to scream yell whine ask politely if they could keep the turtle as a pet. Why not? I remember finding one as a child and having it for a while. I told them that we could keep it for the summer only and as long as they took good care of it. When school started, I told them that it would need to go back to the woods, near where we found it. They agreed. But seriously, who am I kidding? We know it will be a nightmare when it needs to go back in September. But these are the Days Of Our Lives.

By the time we had gotten it back home, the kids had already decided on the name Cooper. Mr. Schmitty and I really wanted to call it Dunlop because we almost ran it over with our new Dunlop tire, but we were overruled. Mr. Schmitty placed it in a large bucket with the clumps of grass he had dug up for the pool. That came it handy, didn't it? What great timing that Cooper has, such a super smart turtle!

We went out to dinner and W. made sure to save the veggie garnishes for our new boarder. When we returned, the Italian Ice truck was down the street. All of the neighborhood kids were there and after everyone got their treats, my kids invited them all to see their new pet.

After the kids ran to my house, one of my neighbors said, "You know turtles can carry salmonella."

WHAAAAAT?!

He nodded and two other neighbors agreed. CRAP! This is what I get for reading blogs instead of the news.

I took off for the house, "STOP! Put the turtle down and step away from the bucket!"

I shooed everyone in the house and made them all scrub their hands raw wash thoroughly. I then whipped out the antibacterial gel, just to make sure there weren't any trashes of Cooper germs left. I told them all to stop complaining that their raw skin now burned go back to eating their ice before it melted.

Later on, I told my kids that they could not touch the turtle anymore and explained why. After some drama, a look up on the internet to prove I wasn't lying because, "I'm such a mean mommy and I would purposely let them bring home the turtle just to take it away again," and some hugs, the turtle was released back into the wild.

Poor kids, things are so different for them. They can't be kids, like we were. No turtles because they carry disease. No licking the cake batter because you'll get sick. No playing in traffic because you might be run over. What?! Only my parents allowed that?

I came to the realization that we just don't have any luck with animals. First the fish, which by the way, I just received a check, two days ago, in the amount of $52.00 with an apology letter from PetCo. Yea me!

I'm sticking with dogs. Though after this episode, Ruby was almost sent back to Ohio.

R.I.P. George Carlin

I first heard the 7 words you can't say on television during my high school years. I remember sitting, with my boyfriend and his mom, in their living room. She was a fan of George Carlin, a man I had never heard of before that night.

We sat curled up on the sofas and we listened to her George Carlin album. I remember how much we all laughed. I remember her laugh. It was contagious.

I went out the next day and purchased "Class Clown". I would sit in my room and listen for hours. I would laugh until my stomach hurt.

My home life was a tough one. George Carlin helped me laugh through some of it. For that I am grateful. Thanks to Mrs. T. for introducing me to this comedic genius. I know I will miss his humor.

George Denis Patrick Carlin - May 12, 1937 - June 22, 2008

“I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through
a crack in the concrete. It's so f'in' heroic.”

Forget The Zohan....You Don't Mess With Mrs. Schmitty!

I had a meeting with the kids on the first day of summer vacation. I told them they were still going to take care of the few chores they had. Daily. Not just when they felt like doing them. They all have their lists of chores and things they need to do, like brush their teeth and hair, get dressed, etc. You know, the things that they have been doing like, forever. The things I, for some reason, need to remind them to do. Daily. Next thing you know I'll be reminding them to breathe.

They are to do all of these things BEFORE friends come over or video games are played. I think that's fair because once fun time begins, well, forget about anything being accomplished.

This morning I found them, in pajamas, rooms a mess, playing Wii. W. was asking if friends could come over. ARE YA KIDDING ME?!

It's only been 3 days since the meeting.

"T., get dressed, please." "T., GET DRESSED!" "HELLLLLOOOOOOO?!" He then began his recent habit of arguing with me. I threatened soap on the tongue.

I told W. to turn off the Wii and clean the pig sty he called a room. He continued to set up a game. "Don't start that game!" I said. He started the game. UUUUUUUUUGH!

I turned off the tv and game console. I started freaking out on them. I think I was justified.

I came downstairs, steam coming out of my ears.

Mr. Schmitty says to me, "When I get back from W.'s church camp meeting, why don't you go back to sleep."

HUH? "Everyone around here ignores me so I flip out. Then YOU tell me I need more sleep?! That's why I flipped?! Are you serious?!

He knew he was doomed. It was almost as bad as the time he excused my justified yelling for PMS. NEVER.EVER.EVER tell a woman, "that's okay, honey, I know you are just PMSing." NEVER.

I told him to go away before I smacked him with the laundry basket I was holding. Any of you that read my blog regularly, know, I may not be able to kick his butt physically, BUT, I will triumph in my own sneaky way. I'm vindictive that way.

I waited for him to get in the shower. I walked in, flushed the toilet and then proceed to pour a glass of, from our cooler, ice cold water over the top of the shower curtain. He was scorched and then I dowsed the burn...'cause I'm thoughtful that way.

"Smell it, smell it, smell it, now take it!"

I'm Thinking Of Quiting The Internet

A few weeks ago my computer freaked out on me. It was running slower than snail poop and it was driving me C-R-A-Z-Y. I Googled for some insight, because that's what I do, I Google. Everything.

Now mind you, I'm not a computer geek genius, though I do know a few things, and am pretty good at figuring things out on my own. Strangely, computer stuff comes easily to me. It's a gift.

I concluded that my computer was probably overloaded with spyware. Considering that I am on the internet working reading blogs so much, it's highly likely that this was the problem. All of the advice out there in the blogosphere said to download AdAware. THEY said that after running it, AdAware would take care of all that naughty, nasty spy and adware. No sweat. 'Cause you know, THEY said it. Plus I had Googled it.

I downloaded the program and ran it. Much to my amazement and complete disgust, my computer had about 837 traces of that SNEAKY stuff in MY stuff! Oh step off, yo!

I clicked on the quarantine button and then deleted these little nuisances. I smiled. I rid my baby of those icky bugs. All I had to do was reboot.

I waited for the computer to run through the startup process. I clicked on my personal icon and the computer read, "saving settings, logging off." It went back to my icon. I tried again. And again. And Again. AND.FRICKIN'.AGAIN. @#((*#&$(WY@)@!!!!!!!

Now, to make a looooooooong story short. A computer geek nerd genius needed to come by. After showing me what a real gift for computers was like and $350.00 later, he gave me some new advice on what spyware program I needed to use. I nodded. I would do anything he said because I had my baby back. Oh how I missed her.

I immediately purchased said spyware program. I was TOLD it was the fairest in the land. If this is so, then will someone please, please answer me a question? Why, as I am catching up on mommy blogs, will my browser spontaneously direct me to such lovely sites as;

• runforcover(dot)com ~ the r has been changed from a c and the n from an m to avoid traffic from the freaks actually looking for the site. Weren't they so clever when selecting their domain name?
  
• ihavenoideawhatthissiteiscalledbecauseiclickedoutsofrickinfast(dot)com ~ let me just say that what I did see pop up on my screen involved a female body part and a body part that should have been boxing someone not playing puppeteer.

How's that for a visual? Can you imagine if my kids were using my computer? W. would have been traumatized for life. Hell, I think I am.

She'll Be Back In A Few Days

Mr. Schmitty here.

Mrs. Schmitty sent me a text message and wanted me to let you all know, that she will be back in a few days. Apparently, though incapacitated, she was worried that you would feel abandoned.

I'd love to fill you in on the situation, but I really must get back to offer my moral support.

Click HERE to get the scoop.

Sincerely,

Mr. Schmitty


P.S. Thanks to Jenny at The Bloggess for lending us her anchorman.

A Fun Day Was Had By All

Every year at my son's school, the 4th grade is given a day of fun, at the end of the school year. It's the 4th grade celebration party. It is the kid's last year at the school, as they will be attending the middle school in September.

Two moms and I were the committee chairs. We have been working for months to plan the day. All of the parents were invited to attend the meetings to help out. The sad thing is, the biggest turn out at a meeting was 5 parents and there are 77 kids in the 4th grade class. Most meetings we were lucky to have 2 parents show up. So, most of the planning came from the 3 of us.

I'm a control freak, so that was just fine with me. Hee Hee

This is how the day went.

9:00 am: At school, the kids were each given a bag containing a t-shirt (that I designed), sunglasses, a bandanna (there were 8 different colors handed out which divided the kids into teams), and scented bubbles.

9:15 am: The teams were placed together and with a volunteer mom (thankfully moms missed meetings but came to help at the party) and their teachers they walked the few blocks to the local park, blowing bubbles as they went.

9:25-10 am: Everyone had bagels, munchkins, water and juice for breakfast. The kids then used face paint crayons and put their "War Paint" on. This pumped them up for the games.

10-12 pm: The teams were sent to compete in 4 different games. There were two teams at every game. Every half hour a whistle was blown and they changed stations. There was kickball (Mr. Schmitty was running that) and an obstacle course which included the kids dressing up as clowns to run it. We also had 2 water games to keep the kids cool. We had the overhead sponge pass. The kids lined up and the first person in line soaked a sponge in water and passed it overhead to the team member behind him. The sponge was passed all the way back to the last person who then squeezed the remaining water into a bucket and then ran to the front to begin again. The winning team was the first to fill the bucket. The second game, I ran, was Drip, Drip, SPLASH! Think of Duck, Duck, Goose with a sponge and water. You drip the sponge over heads and when you choose the person you want to chase you, you squeeze the water over their head, yell, "SPLASH", and take off around the circle. I demonstrated the game with one of the teams. I guess they didn't think this old mama would actually run. The kids were hysterical and you know what? I still got it, the boy never caught me! HA!

W.'s team was the last I had and when the game was over he and I grabbed the sponges and had a water fight. He and I were having a blast. This is what it is ALL about!

12 pm: Pizza, chips, and drinks. The kids had a little down time in the shade.

12:45 pm: Team and class pictures. While I secretly set them up for the next activity.

1 pm: We lined them up next to each other and the parents and teachers lined up a few feet behind them. We told them they could not turn around. We told them to count to 3 and then we all sprayed them with Silly String. It was priceless...they were taken by complete surprise. We then told them that if they wanted to get us back they had to run down the field where we had placed bags of Silly String for them. They took off like maniacs. They came at us all with a vengeance. They had the most fun, I think, getting the teachers!

1:30 pm: The Weaser Italian Ice truck came and handed out ices. We also had watermelon, cupcakes, brownies, and cookies.

2 pm: We gave each kid a gym bag with the town name on it, which they can use for school next year, a beach ball, a couple of coupons for local merchants (Free McDonald's fries!), a class of 2008 tattoo, a music cd (we had polled them on their favorite songs and I burned the cds. A class pic was on the cover), and a coupon for a slideshow with music cd that will be made from the pictures taken during the day (one of the dad's took 1000 pictures that I will make into the slideshow).

2:15 pm: The kids all thanked us with smiles on their faces as they began their walk back to school.

It was a fantastic day!!

A Meme...Because I Don't Have Anything Else

I have a million things going on right now but I'm 21 days past due on my period and I'm a cranky, lazy, worn-out lump with no idea what to write.

So, I stole this from the lovely Maria at just-eat-you-cupcake. Thanks for the inspiration, dearie!

The Alphabet Meme.

A is for your age:

41

B is for your burger of choice:

I really LOVE a juicy bacon cheeseburger with ketchup and some red onion on a whole wheat wrap. I don't like all the bread from a roll and discovered that wraps are great with burgers!

C is for the car that you drive:

A black Mazda MPV minivan. I swore I would never own a minivan. Now that I have one, I love it. It's comfy and it has a DVD player, a total must if you want quiet when you drive with 3 kids!

D is for dog's name:

Ruby. She is a one year old Cavachon, which means she is half Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and half Bichon Frise. She is one of those "designer dogs" which basically means she is a mutt that they charged me too damn much for.

E is for an essential item you use each day:

My computer. I swear I'd be lost without it.

F is for your favorite television show:

I'm with Maria on this one. LOST is awesome. I only began watching the show a few months ago....thank heaven for Netflix. Now I'm all caught up and itching for the new season to start already!

G is for favorite game:

I love playing Uno with the kids. It's easy enough for everyone in the family. I like that it's a card game because it's quick and portable.

H is for hometown:

Rumson, NJ - But don't think I came from money, because believe it or not there are poor people that live there too. My dad was one of the town garbage men....he picked up Bruce Springsteen's trash, so there!

I is for instruments played:

Nothing. There is not one musical bone in my body.

J is for favorite juice:

I'm not much of a juice person. I like an occasional orange juice with breakfast.

K is for what you'd like to kick:

My treadmill. Every day it glares at me because I haven't been on it in a while. Listen, I'm late, I'm bloated, I have no energy, leave me alone.

L is for last restaurant you dined at:

The Sitting Duck. A quaint, little family place that is always hopping. It's got great food and it's noisy enough that I don't spend the whole meal telling the kids to keep it down.

M is for your favorite muppet:

The Swedish Chef. My grandparents were born in Sweden and I remember always laughing at the Chef's accent when I was younger because it sounded just like my grandmother's!

N is for number of piercings you have:

I have 5; 3 in my left ear and 2 in my right. I had my ears originally pierced when I was in 6th grade at the local mall. When I was in high school I numbed my ear with an ice cube and pierced the other three holes with a needle that I "sterilized" over a flame from a Bic lighter. I know, dumb ass.

O is for overnight hospital stays:

4. One time for each of my babies and once for removal of my gall bladder.

P is for people you were with today:

My family.

Q is for what you do in quiet times:

Blog. Color with the kids. Cuddle and watch tv with my hubby.

R is for regrets:

I regret not moving into my own place when I was in my early twenties. I would have loved to have tried it on my own for a while. I also regret not going to art school or computer art school.

S is for status:

Happily married since 1992 to my best friend. We met when I was about 16. We were just friends until we were 22. He dated my friends, I dated his. It's actually quite a funny story.

T is for time you woke up today:

I first woke up at 4:45 to pee. Then let Ruby out. I was wide awake so went on the computer for about an hour. Then I went back to bed until about 8:15.

U is for what you consider unique:

Each of my children's personalities.

V is for favorite vegetable:

I'm not much of a veggie person, I really wish I was. I've tried, but I really.do.not.like.them. I do like corn on the cob and cauliflower. I also like raw salad vegetables; Romaine, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, etc.

W is for your worst habit:

Yelling. Yes, I'm a yeller. I hate that I am...it's the way I was raised, but I'm trying to break that.

X is for x-rays you have had:

Just one, my middle finger. No, I'm not lying. The palm side of my middle finger right where it meets my hand. I had a hard ball there that was hurting SO badly.

Y is for yummy food you ate today:

See B.

Z is for zodiac sign:

I am a Taurus. TOTALLY ME.

Fred Sanford Ain't Got Nuttin' On Me!

Did you ever just look around your home and wonder how in the world it became such a disaster area? We've been really busy this week. Mr. Schmitty is working all weekend. That leaves me and my brood, plus friends.

I just looked out the front window, the back door, and around the main floor of my house. We have a split and the main floor consists of an open floor plan of a living room, dining room, and kitchen. I had to sit down because I am just completely overwhelmed and have no idea where to start first.

So instead, I'll blog and complain about it to all of my bloggy friends. This is what I see:

The back yard; Grass that comes up to R.'s ankles. I should strike the grass because our grass is made up mostly of clover right now. I hate putting chemicals on the lawn because of the kids and our dog. There are a gazillion toys strewn all over. The shed door is open. The umbrella on the patio table is half open. The swing set, that my kids have completely outgrown, is actually bent from the rust. The rust and the monsters I am raising. And don't get me started on the landmines of dog poop.

The front yard; Grass is cut, because I am a wonderful mom and my kids wanted to use their slip and slide. As I said the yard is full of clover. That means bees. Did you hear that? That was the high-pitched, girly scream of a ten year old boy. Anyway, the front yard is smaller, so I cut it, in this AWFUL heat, this morning. My head actually had a heartbeat by the time I was done. So where was I? Oh yea, the slip and slide with 8 rafts. A kiddie pool in the driveway with at least a dozen, newly coiffed, Nekid dolls thrown all over the ground. Shoes, swim shirts, towels are everywhere. There are mounds of wet grass on EVERYTHING because I refused to use the blower after I cut the lawn. I mean c'mon I can't do it ALL!

The main floor of the house: Paper plates with crusts of sandwiches, half drunk glasses of chocolate milk, and browning apple pieces on the dining room table. Enough for 5 children. Sunblock, iPods, Gameboys, and Bakugan's on every inch of available counter tops and tabletops. A sink full of dishes. An overflowing garbage can. Playdoh.

And I haven't even seen the rest of the house in a while so I don't know how that's looking. Right now I don't want to know, I don't think my heart could handle it.


I would so post pictures for you all but 1. I'd be afraid someone would recognize the place and call the authorities to condemn my house and 2. I can't find my camera in the heap of crap.

Can someone tell me why I keep hearing the theme song to Sandford and Son in my throbbing head.

Connecticut Hit and Run

I woke up this morning and like every morning, I went to my computer. I opened my browser and logged on to aol to check my email. I noticed a news article on aol's main page. I clicked on it and saw one of the most disgusting videos I've ever seen.

I am absolutely sickened by it and even more so, I am appalled at the behavior of those involved.

What in God's name is wrong with people today?! Please take a look for yourself. I must warn you ~ it is extremely upsetting.

Click HERE to read the article.

Comments were left on this post. Some were as shocked as I was. Some made excuses for why nothing was done. Some blamed law enforcement. Some couldn't blame the bystanders because they would have done the same thing to avoid being sued.

WTF?!

No excuse in the world can justify ignoring a HUMAN BEING like that!

I've just lost a little more faith in the world.

A Day Of Beauty

I took Cindy to the salon today because she was unable to get there by herself. It was the grand opening of a small place owned and run by a brother and sister team. It was quaint and had a real homey feel to it.

When we arrived, we walked in to a jammed, packed waiting room. I recognized many of the faces sitting patiently, awaiting their turn with the stylist. I thought to myself that I couldn't recall ever really conversing with any of them.

We sat after Cindy was checked in and waited. Looking around I noticed that this lot was in bad shape. They were all in desperate need of a makeover. Most were quite disheveled.

Suddenly the female partner of the salon emerged from the back. She was taking the next client in to see the stylist, her brother.

Each time she escorted another woman, the routine was the same. She would walk over and say, "Hello and welcome. My brother will see you now." As she headed toward the sink for shampooing, she would announce to her brother the style of haircut the client was to receive.

The gorgeous redhead was to receive, "A trim, please."

The beauty with the raven hair, "Bangs."

The brunette with waist-length hair was going bold with, "To her shoulders!"

Finally, it was Cindy's turn. She was taken to the sink and given a thorough cleaning. She then received the haircut of her life.

After Cindy unveiled her newly coiffed do, the sister approached me. She smiled and asked, "How about you? Would you like a haircut?"

I looked at the heads of the ladies around me.


I hollered (in my head), "Heeeelllllllzzzzz NO!" as I jumped up and ran for the door with a giggling T. and R. fast on my heels!

I Guess He Couldn't Wait

W. just couldn't or wouldn't wait until 5th grade. He came home from school, two days ago, and informed me that he now has a girlfriend. Yes, I honestly know he is too young to have a girlfriend. I've told him that. But if you knew my W., you'd know that having a girlfriend is no different than having a girl that is a friend. Okay, except for the making out part, but I'm thinking he's all talk.

The girl he is now referring to as "his girlfriend" is just that. A girl. A friend. A girlfriend. They've been very close friends since kindergarten. I guess all of this talk of wanting a girlfriend made him think, "Hey! What about M.?!" Yea, that's the ticket.

Voilà! Instant girlfriend and he didn't even need to add water.

I asked him if he chose M. because he just wants to say he has a girlfriend or if he really likes her that much.

"Well, mom," he begins, trying to sound all growed-up and mature, "We've been friends, like forever, so we just finally got here."

Ahhhhh....now I get it, it was in the stars, you know destiny.

M.'s birthday was yesterday and for a class treat she brought in butterfly shaped cookies. Upon arriving home, W. said, "R. and T., my girlfriend had two cookies left over and my girlfriend was nice enough to send them home for you. Wasn't that nice of my girlfriend?"

The poor girl doesn't even have a name anymore.

W.'s birthday is today. Their birthdays are only a day a part. How absolutely romantic, though a bit scary as they are both Gemini. I'm not sure about M., but W. - total Gemini.

Happy Birthday, my love!! You have finally hit the double-digits! I guess that's why you felt the need to hook up. Because we all know that 10 is the new 16.

Hmmm...I wonder if your girlfriend will try to give you a birthday smooch.

You so know I'll be asking!

He'll Fall For Just About Anything

Our dog, Ruby crapped on R.'s purple, fuzzy rug tonight. Mr. Schmitty was beyond pissed. It's a new rug and it was ruined. You just can't get poop off of that kind of rug.

I was at the dining room table with the kids, trying to help W. study for two tests. Two tests that he failed to remember he was having until today. Two tests that, of course, are to be taken tomorrow.

I was getting slap happy as I was quizzing him and trying to keep the other two occupied. I wanted to keep them away from their father, whose head was spinning as he walked around cursing under his breath. "Damn dog...frickin, frackin, mumble, grumble!"

We had just finished dinner and the steak sauce was still on the table. W. pulled off a dried up, rubbery piece from the neck of the bottle. It was almost black in color and very squishy. I winked at W.

"Ewwwwww!" I said to T. and R. as I picked up the booger-sized drop of steak sauce. "Daddy must have dropped a piece of Ruby poo on the table!!"

"YUCK mommy, don't pick it up!!" yells T.

"Well, I want to make sure that's what it is," I replied as I peered at it more closely.

I held it up to my nose and sniffed. W. almost fell off the chair as he tried to keep himself from laughing.

"It smells like poo."

"Mommy, give it to me, I'll throw it out!" yelled R.

"Wait, I still want to make sure," I continued.

I stuck my tongue out and touched it to the ball of sauce on the end of my finger.

"YUP, that's poo, alright!" I smiled up at T.

I thought he would pass out. He had the most disgusted look on his face. I've ever seen one like that on a kid before. I think he may have thrown up in his mouth a bit.

Meanwhile, W. was hyperventilating next to me. I almost had to give him a paper bag.

"T., seriously, it's steak sauce. Do you think I'd actually taste dog poo or even touch it?"

"You might mom, you are weird, you know."

Touché, by dear boy, touché!