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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Always a Trip

We are on vacation. We left home last Friday, Georgia bound with a van full....a van full of children, luggage and the next door neighbor who hitched a ride to visit her son. After driving and visiting for six hours, I was ready for a break. We deposited Ethel at her final destination around dinner time, about two hours outside of Atlanta and decided to make it a fiesta. We found a fun little Mexican restaurant and watched in amazement as Catherine devoured an entire taco, rice, refried beans and a gaggle of chips. Our amazement over that taco dinner would not be shortlived.

We hit the perimeter in Atlanta right in the middle of the worst weather this side of Katrina that I've ever seen. All hail broke loose if you know what I mean. The van was pelted with golf balls as a multiple tsunamis poured over the roof...we hit pool after pool of water, hydroplaning from one side of I-75 to the other. By the time we reached our exit and pulled safely into my brother's house, my knuckles were white from gripping the door handle and I had blisters on the bottoms of my feet from hitting the brakes on the passenger side. After being pried out of my seat, I stumbled into the house asking for some Zanax with some vodka to wash it down. I was a mess.

We let the kids run wild playing with their cousin and finally got everyone calmed down and in a bed. But Catherine started complaining that her tummy hurt. It was somewhere around 11 pm and she was clearly in pain. I dug through my portable medicine cabinet and saw that I had packed something for every ailment from a scrape on the knee to constipation, but had nothing for the tummy ache (of course). So Andy offered to run out and find something for her. Since this was Atlanta, I figured he'd run to the super Walmart just around the corner and come back with some Children's Pepto or something like that. When he returned (nearly an hour later), all he had was a pack of adult chewy Rolaids, some saltine crackers and ginger ale.

She was still writhing in pain and didn't want to put anything in her mouth. "Come on sweetheart, " he said, "take some of the medicine...the Dr. said you'd feel better."

"You saw a Dr.?" I asked.

He shook his head no.

"A pharmacist?"

Again, negative head shake. "The manager of the pack-a-sack said this is what he gives his kids when they don't feel good."

The manager of the pack-a-sack. Mmmkay.

Well we found out later...as in sometime around 1:30 am...the reason she didn't want to put anything in her mouth. And we got to experience the El Mexicano especial all over again...although it wasn't nearly as enjoyable coming out as it was going in. UGH And remember, friends...we were in SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE!!!!! So I spent the next three hours scrubbing, cleaning, disinfecting, and washing sheets.

The first part of our vacation has been a trip. We are now in the mountains and I'm hoping I have nothing to blog about the rest of the week. I sent Andy, William and Catherine into Helen a while ago so I could enjoy a quiet cabin while the little one naps. If they return wearing lederhosen I'll be sure to take a picture. And, of course, blog about it because...well...that would just be funny.

I could use some funny.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

System Failure

We don't have a lot of time for TV around here but I rely on my DVR to record my weekly crack fix, American Idol. The only show I really care about. And this season I'm especially addicted because I love, love, LOVE watching that weird haired, black nailed, ear pierced soprano singing Adam. I can't WAIT to see what he's going to do each week. And after putting the kids to bed the other night, I settled in to see.

I zoomed through the commercials and even some of the performances....and finally got to my little weirdo....saw his baby pictures....cracked up at his dad saying he didn't really like sports as a kid but loved to play dress up (shocking)...and then....

IT WAS OVER.

My mouth dropped open. I jumped up and all I could do was point to the TV, with my jaw on the floor, gasping for breath like I was hyperventilating or something....

I stood there like that for what seemed like hours and then realized.....

PATHETIC. Simply pathetic. My reaction to missing Adam's performance was way more dramatic than my reaction to hearing that Andy lost his job or North Korea had launched a nuclear missile.

I'm still not sure I'm over it. Missing Adam that is....

Monday, April 06, 2009

child’s play

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he tries to act tough…

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he said he wouldn’t smile…

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but then something was funny

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really, really funny.

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nothing like an old swing hangin’ from a tree in the front yard….

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the same tree that serves as home base for a game of hide and seek…she counted 1, 2, 3, 4, 11, 15, 20….

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“ready or not here I come!”

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come with me.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Overheard Recently

William: "Hey Mama, when will I be snack mom again?"

Me: "Hmmm...hard to say...a few weeks maybe?" As if such a bizarre question begged a serious answer, much less one that required much of a thought process.

William: "Well, I certainly hope that when I'm snack mom again I bring Pizza Pie Puffs. 'Cause they are goo-oo-oo-d."

Me: "Good luck with that."

Looks even weirder to actually put it in print.....

The Boy With the Ugly Shoes

The kids had school pictures today. It was no surprise. They've only been sending notes home for weeks. They even put little stickers on their backs yesterday that said something like "Hey Mom and Dad - don't forget my pictures tomorrow!" Cute. Anyway....last night I picked out their outfits, we ironed everything and spent most of the morning rush hour getting bows in place, shirts tucked in and making sure the remnants of their pancake breakfast were nowhere to be seen on faces or clothes.

As I was running late and rushing to get out of the door, I told Andy to go put everyone in the car. I grabbed backpacks, my coffee and purse and ran outside to get in the van where my three looked so cute and charming in their sweet outfits.

I pulled up at school in the drop off line, opened the door and started herding them out, one by one. First Catherine, who looked so pretty in her smocked dress and English sandals. Then Stuart in his cute little jon jon and fisherman sandals. Then William, looking like such a big boy in his sweater vest, khaki pants and....

What the....

"WILLIAM! You have on CROCS?!?!?!?!"

Ugly plastic blue and orange Auburn crocs with a green frog jibit or jiblet or whatever the heck it's called stuck right in the front hole.

I looked at the teacher and with a calm sweet smile pleaded, "Please ask Mr. Mills not to photograph my child's feet. Mmmkay?"

I called Andy as I pulled away. "You won't believe this," I stated. "All the trouble we went to ironing clothes, making sure everyone looked cute for their pictures, and William gets out of the van with those nasty CROCS on! Can you believe that???"

"Um, yeah well, um, I guess I told him he could wear them."

{Blank stare}

I quickly concluded that in the grand scheme of everything we are dealing with at the moment, this was really not a big deal. Definitely not a mountain. Just a molehill.

An ugly molehill. But still.... a molehill.

Sigh.