George Goes to the Doctor

     In the general chaos of life around here lately, we've been also gearing up for two surgeries stuck right in the middle of things. (While insane schedules continue to spiral out of control around us in the process.)
     Lexi and George will both be heading into the local outpatient surgery center next week to have various things removed. Tonsils for George, as, he continues to wake up with breathing issues and laryngospasms, and, tonsils and adenoids for Lexi, as we prepare for approximately two million dollars worth of orthodontia treatment. The other day, I left work early, picked George up from school, Lexi up from home, and headed right back in to Olean for their pre-op appointment. As soon as we walked in,  George zeroed in on a very very tiny dwarf woman (Is that PC? I said "Oriental" the other day and was met with gasps of "You can't SAY that!!!!!" And, I honestly was all "I can't?" "NO! Because that's offensive, because rugs are oriental, too!" "What?") anyhow, there was a very tiny woman in the waiting room. George didn't comment on this, but, did ask to play on my phone. (I recently read an article condemning parents who let their kids play on their phones in waiting rooms. Shut up. These are usually re-posted by people who have no children.) Anyhow, George was playing with my phone while we waited. Eventually, he lost interest in my phone, and began to look around. He still did not mention the tiny woman sitting in the waiting room, to my never ending relief. He watched a doctor through a window, and announced loudly that "The doctor is in there just playing on his phone. That is unprofessional!" to the waiting room in general. It was a long wait. Eventually, a very small man came out of an exam room, and George perked up. Mentally, I begged him to not comment. Please do not comment, I prayed silently, watching him out of the corner of my eye. The tiny man checked out, and then assisted the tiny woman and her not so tiny purse out of her chair, and they walked out. "Mom!" whispered George "Those were some very little people!" I watched the rest of the waiting people strain to hear what he was saying, after they had been observing him for the last half hour, they were all probably pretty sure it wouldn't be dull. "That's because God only lets people grow till they're perfect!" I whispered back with sudden inspiration. "So, do you think I will stop growing pretty soon, then?" asked George.


     Eventually we were brought back to the exam room. Where George continued to be George. The pre-op person came in just as I burst out "WHAT??!!!" as George had just finished telling me he has been going to the boys room at school and using water to give himself a Mohawk. He also requested a tattoo - again.
     The specialist looked at George and said "Oh, honey, you better be very sure of what sort of tattoo you get, and you should really think it over before you decide. I had a tattoo when I was married to one of my husbands. We belonged to a motorcycle gang, and, my husband died. After he died, the gang told me either I have the tattoo removed, or, they would cut it off my body. So, I was forced to have it removed. You know what it feels like, when you fall and scrape your knee? Well, that's how they remove tattoos - one layer of skin at a time. Scraping the skin layer by layer. It was so painful! But, I had to have it done, or they would have come after me and removed it in a way worse way! So, really think about it before you commit to one!" she said to my 7 year old "Okay, now, I need to look in your mouth, open wide!" Which was a useless request, because, at that point, all of our mouths were open very wide.
     Anyhow, when all was said and done, both of the kids were cleared for surgery next week, and we hustled home to get Joe ready for his baseball game.
     It wasn't until after the kids finally went to bed for the night, that I happened to notice that George had done more than play motorcycle games on my phone. There were lots of silly faced selfies, a picture of the tiny woman sitting in the waiting room (The embarrassment at this is unbelievable) and, a video of himself using the bathroom (taken from the chest-up) while he talked to the phone in running commentary.
 
     Before the kids went to bed that  night, Lexi handed me one of the last assignments she had done before school ended for the year. It was an "article" written by herself, but about herself, so, in the third person. It described Lexi's home life, friends, hobbies... It concluded with: "...she also wants to become a wife, in a mansion, with a butler, and a limo.... she wants to live in New York City and celebrate life.... she has very reasonable hopes and dreams." she told me that her teacher laughed outright when she read it, and gave her a "100" on the spot.
     Joe read it this morning impassively and remarked "She does realize that she could possibly have all that when she's about 70, after working her butt off her whole life, right?"
     I don't know about that. As flamboyant as Lexi is, she is also pretty smart, and, I think capable of whatever she wants to do. This week, she was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society. Lexi being Lexi of course, wore a floor length long sleeved white gown with blue flowers on it, her hair in an up-do complete with sparkling headband tiara, and sparkly silver high heels. She pulled it off beautifully. Surrounded by other girls wearing pretty summer dresses, Lexi stood there in 93 degree weather wearing that long sleeved floor length gown as if she was a Disney Princess. No one expects any differently from her.
 
     Kaila has a car! Kaila was pretty excited about her car, too. Until she realized that it has to sit in the driveway until she can afford to license, register, and insure it. It may also need a new battery, an oil change and a brake line replaced. (All of which the Bearded Man can do.)
     With a car, comes great financial responsibility. So, in the interest of teaching our kid such responsibility, and, to foster appreciation for something she has to pay for herself, we have advised her to go get a job. The job hunt began yesterday. She went to one place, was told they only hire people who are older than 18, and came home again. Today, she has assured us she intends to really hit the pavement and put in applications locally. I have been informed that she is too young to be "adulting", and that she isn't finished "teening" yet. It was pointed out that, if she wanted to be adult enough to own a car, then, she needed to get her teen tush out the door and locate employment. Until then, we will continue to hope that the local code enforcer does not ticket us for an unregistered vehicle in the driveway. Which I suspect is bound to happen pretty much at any moment now.


     I feel like there is so much more happening - and there probably is - but, honestly, I can't keep track of things anymore. We are hoping that with baseball and school winding down within the next week, things will settle down a little, and life will get back to it's usual more manageable pace.


    


    


    


    

We Have a Teen Driver in the House!

    The whirlwind craziness of our schedules has reached fever pitch at our house. I will be so happy when school is out and baseball wraps up. We are all ready for a break. As soon as I have a moment, and I can wrangle my kids all to one spot, there needs to be a "Come To Jesus" chat with my kids regarding chores. This morning, as I ran out the door, I hollered for the girls to come down stairs. "Mom! I am in the middle of contouring my face!" wailed Kaila dramatically.
     "Seriously. George's baseball uniform is in the washer. He has a game tonight. Make sure the laundry is in the dryer before  you all leave for school! PLEASE!!!!! And, seriously - pick up this damn house!!!"
     "Fine. Flip laundry." and, back up the stairs they sailed.


     In a two second flash, I looked around the house, and just couldn't deal with the mess. I haven't been home in days, nor am I forecasted to be home for any appreciable amount of time in the near future.


     "Mom. You cannot curse at the house, by calling it a 'damn house' " Joe piped up. "It is a nice home and a shelter for your family."


     "UGH!" I said, and left for work. Only to be called two minutes later to come back home, because Joe's shoes were in my van.


     Comments from my children regarding the current chaos range as such:



- Someday, your house will be clean and everything will be perfect, but we will all be moved out and you will be sad.


- A messy house is just a lived in home!


- Dad doesn't clean anything or do housework, and I am a man too, so, I am not, either.


- I DID sweep the floor! Why are you accusing me of not?


- I shouldn't have to do the dishes because

• Am exhausted
• It's my birthday
• I wasn't home last night
• I don't feel good
• I have to be somewhere in an hour
• My head is pounding
• I think I might throw up
• I always have to do everything!!!
• I forgot I have homework
• I am so tired. Please don't make me
• This is slave labor
• I really think I am probably dying.
• I didn't eat that dinner, so I shouldn't have to wash the dishes from it

-I am not cleaning my room because it's all his/her mess


- I always have to be the one to pick up! Someone else should do it


- You are always telling us to get outside and play in the fresh air, so, I will just be outside


- I know it's clean the house day, but, Dad is taking us fishing


- out and out sobbing.


I don't even know anymore. And, of course, in this Social Media driven world - there are oh! So many perfect Mamas out there, who manage to feed their children only the healthiest foods, work out, keep their houses clean, look perfect every day, and post amazing pics of their successful lives as the perfect wives/mothers/housekeepers/working women while fitting in fun activities with their kids in their spare time. I have no idea what the secret to this perfection is. I can only imagine there's probably sorcery involved. It's really the only answer I can come up with. Either way, I cannot come even a little bit close to those expectations.


     Anyhow. My house is a mess, and I don't have the time to clean it in the near future. Tomorrow, on my normal "clean the house day" Kaila has her required 5 hour driving course. After a whirlwind week of celebrating Kaila's Sweet 16, she was able to take and pass her Learner's Permit Driving Test, and is now begging to drive every time we go someplace. And every time I think I have two seconds to sit down. And, pretty much every time I get out of my vehicle after work. Her first day on the roads was pretty scary, but, I thought I remained overall calm as we hurtled around the back roads near our house for an  hour. I would calmly say "Kaila. Honey. Stay on the road. Kaila. You are getting too close to the edge. Kaila. Ease it back over. Honey, you really need to just get back on the road. If you go off the road and you're going too fast, you are going to get into an accident. Kaila. Get. On. The. Road. KAILA! I mean, Kaila. Honey. You're doing great. Just, you know. Get on the road. Keep it on the road. Ease it over."


     "I need music to concentrate!"


     "Really, you should keep your hands on the wheel and concentrate."


     "This isn't dance music. I can't dance to this."


     "You shouldn't be dancing while driving anyway. Please get back on the road"


     "AWWW! Look at that cute dog over there!!!!"
 
     "DON'T look at ANY dogs unless they are going to run in front of  you, and please make sure you are not driving off the road. Like, right now. Because, you aren't on the road."


     "OOOOHHHHH NOOOOOO!!!!! I RAN OVER A CHIPMONK! It's my first day driving and I have already started slaughtering poor innocent animals!"


     "Kaila. I am so sorry. But, please, pull back over to your left, and stay off the side of the road."


     "Another dog! He's so cute!"


     "Please look at the road and not dogs."


     "You're lookin a little tense over there, Doll Face. Are you tense?"


     "Of course not!" (Clutching the arm rest and the door handle desperately while leaning to the left as if I could make the van stay on the road that way) "You are doing a terrific job! Really!"


     I staggered out of my van with rubbery shaking legs and the insane urge to vomit, but, we made it back home in one piece. I left shortly after that to catch part of George's baseball game. As I stepped out of my van at the baseball field, a coach from another team happened to walk by. "You okay?" he asked in concern, "My daughter got her Learner's Permit today. We just got back from her first time out with me. I am feeling sort of nauseous."
     "Hahaha! Well. At least your hair is still red, and not all gray from it."
     "It probably is under whatever color my sister uses."
     "Good Luck!"


Anyhow, days two, three and four were much more successful, and, Kaila seems to really have a knack for it, so, I anticipate she will do just fine. She has a car already, and all the money for the car saved up - she just needs to hand it over, and the car is hers. But, she needs to pay for the registration and insurance, so, she has been advised to hit pavement and get a job. Applications to area businesses will be filled out in the fairly near future, I think. I am not sure how I ended up with a 16 year old who is driving, owns a car and will be getting a job all of a sudden. Wasn't she just a toddler yesterday, and pedaling her tricycle?? It's crazy how fast time flies.
  
     My kids are right, you know. Some day, my house will be clean, because everyone will be moved out, and I will be so  sad.


  Ah well. For all of you mamas out there that aren't perfect either, I hope you know you are in good company here!

Not Sure if it was Kids or A Reportable Ransacking

     I spent yesterday in Buffalo at an annual education day. I came back to my office today to enough emails that I was alerted my mailbox was too full, and more consults and patient alerts than I thought possible after one single day away from my computer.
     Between work stress and the annual "Spring Schedule" stress, I stared at my computer screen this morning and realized that the feeling of barely suppressed panic has become normal for me anymore.
    
     Before I left the house to come to work this morning, I looked around my house in amazement. I felt like there was a good possibility it had been raided and ransacked, but, I honestly didn't care enough to file a police report. There was the same possibility that my children were responsible, and I am entirely too tired to care if the kids did it, or, if there was indeed a reportable issue. I tiredly asked the kids to at least start the washer before they left for school, and pick up when they get home, but, I know darn well they were nodding their heads earnestly just to get me to stop making these unreasonable requests. I am still waiting for them to change the bathroom garbage, which was the only thing I requested of them last weekend. As I walked out the front door and tripped over a truck on the porch, I noticed that my porch wasn't looking much better than my house. Sighing tiredly I decided to just ignore it and go to work. There was enough clothing on my porch to make me think at least two people must have been running around naked at some point recently. Since no one has shown up to inquire why naked people were running around, I figured it wasn't worth worrying about.
     Go ahead. Judge me. I don't even care. I haven't been home enough to enforce anything. And when I am home, I am too tired to care.


  
     This week is busier still, because, we are celebrating Kaila's upcoming 16th Birthday in a big way! Last night, I ran home from work, changed out of scrubs and into a dress, grabbed Kaila, and we were off to Buffalo to see Wicked.
     Today, I am leaving work early, and we are headed to my cousin's in New Jersey to spend some much needed beach time for the weekend. Honestly - we have no real plans. Just, "go to my Cousin Donna's house, and figure it out as we go" type plans. Sometimes those plans are the best ones.
     Also, Kaila has been instructed to bring her Learner's Permit study manual, as, she has just over a week to learn everything in it before she heads off to the DMV to take her Driver Permit Test. When the heck did I get old enough to have a driver in the family?? I can remember my own 16th Birthday just a few days ago, and that half excited, half terrified first time behind the wheel. I find myself getting a little more intense, when I lecture my patients who refuse to wear glasses while driving, now that I have to think that my kid will be on the same roadways. I used to think the hardest thing in the world was watching my kids learn to walk down stairs. Those moments when you hold your breath, and pretend you aren't positive they are going to tip head first from the top of the staircase and into the worst case scenarios are nothing, compared to the thought of putting your child behind the wheel. Ah well. I imagine I will be a mess when they start to move out.
     Kaila has a car already. A co-worker of the Bearded Man is selling her his car. It's a Chrysler. On the way home from Wicked last night, Kaila reported that she is thinking about naming her car "Gary" (We do that in this family.) "Gary is a good name." I said "I have a friend who just bought a Kia and named it "Mia the Kia". And her mother bought a Subaru Forrester, and named it "Forrester Gump".
     'Well. I have a Chrysler, Mom. If I did that, the only alternative is to name it "Jesus". And then I would have "Jesus Chrysler!"
     And this is why we're going to hell this week.


     Since I am thinking about it now, and the resulting guilt of it is bothering me, I should mention my pride and joy: my gardens. I planted lots of bulbs last fall, to try and come even close to my front garden looking nearly as nice as the local funeral home garden. I don't think it did though. Ever optimistic though, I bought lots of flowers this year from various school fund raisers. I am trying to decide if the lack of time to properly weed my gardens, combined with the more than usual amount of flowers that I planted between hauling children all over the country side for the last week, may have taken a turn from the intended "pretty and colorful" to "Gaudy and this is why our property values are so low". (I was once accused by an old neighbor of decreasing local property values, because of all the children's toys and bikes at my house. I was advised to please move the bikes to the back yard, but, decided not to on the spot. As far as I know, I am not solely responsible for the low property values around my home.)


     Anyhow. I need to get back to work, so I can have everything finished up for the day, so I can drive to New Jersey in a few hours. Have a Great Memorial Day weekend!


    

How to Make Stainless Steel Look Stainless

     The annual Spring/Summer schedule has begun. This year is prepping to be the worst yet. The other evening, I sat in the kitchen, surrounded by all the schedules normally taped to the refrigerator (You want to know why they are taped to the refrigerator? They are taped there because years ago, I thought it would be a fabulous idea to purchase all stainless steel appliances, and have regretted it every single minute since. Stainless steal is not meant for insane families who are not able to prioritize trying to keep stainless steel - stainless. Stainless steal shows every smudge, smear, filthy handprint and grungy less than perfect spot. Therefore, the obvious solution was to tape everybody's schedules all over it, and hope nobody notices.) piles of invitations, tickets, screen shots of more schedules, texts with schedules, doctor appointment slips, and, my so/so memory. It  has been determined that we have availability in our schedules for sitting in the recliner for more than ten minutes sometime toward the end of August. I am not even kidding.
     In the middle of the insanity, I thought it would be a good idea to join the gym across the road from work. Since I am trying the whole "I kind of don't WANT to go to hell" lifestyle, I decided that praying to become skinny is probably not a good way to stay out of the fire and brimstone, and I would have to try becoming skinny myself. Again. Nothing ever seems to work, and I don't know why I can't just accept that and be able to spend my days buried in books, wine and chocolate. So, anyhow, I decided to join the gym. Again. I can literally stand at the window in the front office at work and look at it. It's right behind Burger King. And, it's a two minute walk away, depending on traffic.
     Following are only a few reasons why I cannot get to the gym:


     Yesterday, I had every intention of going to the gym. Even if I forgot my workout clothes at home, mostly because my shirt was still in the dryer drying, when I left for work. Not a problem: I can just buy something to workout in.
     Except: One of the parents on George's baseball team sent out a group text (Bless her heart) asking if everyone would like to do an extra baseball practice that evening. Which prompted approximately four million eight hundred nine thousand four hundred and ninety seven texts of varying stages of confusion, but, still meant that I needed to get home and get George to baseball practice. (Bless her heart twice.)


     Today, I have workout clothes, I have a gym, I had time. But, the prom happened, and, once again, Kaila had one week notice of the request of her presence at the prom, and, now we are going to have to get her nails done. And Lexi too, because Lexi has been my saving grace, and the only child in my household who is willing or, apparently able, to do any sort of housework. She keeps stuff going, and has been getting dinner on the table pretty frequently lately, AND she was recently invited to join the Junior Honor Society, so, Lexi totally deserves a mani-pedi too.
     I could DO this though. I would just do half of my workout on my lunch break, and then the other half after work quick, and then go home, grab the girls, and come all the way back to the nail salon - also across the road from work, and we could do the mani-pedi thing.
     Except: my mother called, as I was finishing up the last thing I had to do before heading across the street to the gym, and, after a long conversation with my mother; there went the gym.
     Not even kidding. Every day, it's something.


     Some of you may recall, I attempted to turn the family room into a gym at home some time ago. There was an argument about a dilapidated recliner that Bearded Man had never actually sat in, at the time. The home gym ended up not working out, because, Bearded Man stuck that recliner right in front of the TV, and  has spent pretty much all time that he is not at work, in that recliner, watching manly stuff, as well as lots of shows that outline the possible ways that civilization as we know it will end. (Spoiler alert: it will probably happen very soon, and whichever way it happens will likely be very painful and very terrible. The solemn narrator of all these shows always seems very urgent about these things. The same pessimistic man narrates all these shows. I am not sure how they get him out of his bunker to come to the studio and narrate these things, unless, he is doing it remotely.) Anyhow. Bearded Man does not appreciate his recliner time being interrupted by people, and especially not people working out, so, no one is able to actually use the workout room. I have already found a new home for the behemoth workout machine that takes up approximately 1/3 of the room, and am just awaiting Bearded Man to move it. Anyhow, this explains the need for a gym membership. There is no logistic way to work out anywhere in my house without the assistance of children and dogs.  Only, I can't seem to get to the gym at a remote site, either.


     Ah well. On to other things. The last day of Sunday school, for this school year was this past weekend. As all things go lately, it was smack in the middle of obligations for the Annual Maple Fest, so, creative scheduling was needed here. I learned my Sunday School End of Year Party lesson last year. Rather than "The Blues Brothers", I had Lexi just grab whatever VHS tape she could find the fastest. And, although "Lady and the Tramp" has questionable moral content, I am pretty sure it was still more church appropriate than last year's selection. (And if you cannot tell I am kidding by that remark, then, seriously. This must be the first time you've read this Blog....) Anyhow, I brought in cereal and donuts and board games, and told them to entertain themselves while I cleaned my room out for the summer. It was the best day of Sunday School all year. It should also be noted that, I recently realized that the priest at our church is very much an active social media user. It has become my fear, that he will find out about this Blog..


     The Annual Maple Fest was also a success. The Library Book Sale waiting line was very civil, and, Bearded Man needed to be called to come pick us up, as, we were unable to haul our books home otherwise. Bearded Man has no idea that the exercise equipment will probably be replaced by more bookshelves, by the way. We are otherwise out of room for more books, and, I have a very real hoarding problem with them. I just can't make myself like e-readers. And, my kids are reading more and more. So, more shelving is the only real solution.
     When I die, I will probably leave them all the library in my will, and whatever poor soul gets stuck dealing with them will probably make a trip to my grave specifically to spit on it.


   This weekend promises to be crazy, but, it will end with the first Franklinville Book Club gathering. I am bringing brownies to a gathering full of women. Most of whom will want them, but none of whom will admit it enough to actually eat them. Because, that's just how we work. Either way, my kids will be delighted to get the leftovers!


   Till next time!


    

"No. You May NOT Smack Your Sister With a Bible."

     Easter has come and gone. It culminated with the first Baseball practice of the season also falling on Holy Thursday. Since I occasionally try to not go to hell, I thought it would be a good thing if I hit up church that evening. Kaila and Lexi came with me, and, as we settled into our pew, I thought how nice it would be to have an entire church experience that did not involve keeping George under control. He can read now, and loves to look at me with a smirk as he sings all the responses in the most sarcastic and loud opera voice he can manage, while mimicking the hand movements of the priest. Or, the new favorite "Mom. It says here not to take this book out of the pew." holds out outside the pew into the aisle "It's outside the pew mom." "Knock it off, George."
     I also did not have to try and keep Bearded Man awake, either. It was kind of a double win. So, it was with resignation that, after hearing one of my teenage daughters whisper to the other fiercely "Where's a Bible??? Cuz I need to smack you with it!" that I made them move to either side of me. I honestly had to separate my teens in church. To clarify: no one was actually smacked with a bible. Or even without a bible.


     Saturday morning brought the long awaited news that April the Giraffe was finally *really* in labor this time, so, we tuned it to watch it. The kids were willing more because it procrastinated "clean the house day" than any other reason. Still. Educational and all that. The boys were not excited about this at all, and were in the midst of yet another argument:
 "JOE! LEAVE GEORGE ALONE!"


"But, he's CHEATING at the game Sorry!!!!!"


 "JOSEPH! He is playing. by. himself. It. does. not. matter."


 "Cheating is cheating mom!"


 "Seriously! STOP! We are trying to watch the miracle of life over here!!!!"


"I do not enjoy Ah Sib Anya, Mom."


"What is Ah Sib Anya?"


"You know. That song at the beginning of The Lion King?"


At which point the girls, began to belt out the opening song of the Lion King, that begins with something that really does sound like "Ahhhhhh Sib Anya!!!!!!!!" (The Circle of Life Song)


The same child stumbled down the stairs this morning as I was headed off to work. "I was lying in bed thinking, Mom. I need to go find the Periodic Table. I need to look at some elements."


"Okay Joe. Have a good day."


"Thanks, Mom."


Easter Sunday began around 3am. "Mom?" called George from my bedroom doorway, "I just had to go downstairs to go potty, and, I don't think the Easter Bunny came this year. There is nothing down there!"


"George. Honey. I am pretty sure he probably did, and just hid everything."


"How do you know *He* is not a *she*, Mom." he demanded suspiciously.


"George. I am not debating the gender of the Easter Bunny with you right now. Go back to bed."


"I don't think I was done going potty. I better go back downstairs and go again now."


Anyhow, eventually all the Easter Baskets were found. Normally the parental units (as we are referred to by Kaila) are notified before imminent Easter/Birthday/Christmas stuff commences, but, this year, the kids found everything on their own. We were honestly kind of happy to be allowed to sleep a little extra.


After church this year, we arrived home to find that the two little boys next door had received new bikes. Of course George went over to inspect them and wondered aloud why there were Walmart stickers on them. Anyhow, the mother of the boys next door, my poor tiny little neighbor, whom we torment mercilessly about her petite height, mourned to me that she had looked into buying a new bike for herself, too, but, the only bikes that fit her height were outfitted with tassels and baskets and Disney characters. Easter Sunday or not, I laughed pretty hard, and assured her we would love nothing more than to see her riding a tasseled Barbie Bike around town.


Easter is probably my very favorite holiday. It is historically spent at our house with my little sister and her kids. This year, we had the added bonus of my nephew who lives out of state, and his wife and daughter visiting! They arrived just as a rain deluge was finishing, and my yard was slightly flooded ("SEE??? FLOODING!!!!!" Pointed out Bearded Man. "Oh, shush.") George and Joe, fully clothed, were splashing, and running in the water/mud of the yard, as well as lying in, rolling around in, and doing belly flops into the water/mud of the yard. "This is sort of typical" I tried to warn them. And we then proceeded to have a seriously fun afternoon. Which was topped off with a visit from the Easter Bunny. George and my nephew's daughter came running into the house waving bags of homemade chocolates, screaming that the Easter Bunny had just come. Running outside, sure enough, there was an Easter Bunny walking over to a house down the street where a little girl lives, Easter Basket full of homemade chocolates in hand/paw. We watched in amazement as the Easter Bunny, seeing us, came back and handed out bags of chocolates to everyone present, and then indicated we should probably take pictures. So, we did.
George pointed out after that, the Easter Bunny had a pink belly and pink shoes on, and was definitely a GIRL, so, I was wrong about it being a boy.


Anyhow. It was a fantastic weekend. George's toe will probably not need to be amputated. Nobody got smacked with a bible - not even Bearded Man when he slept thru the Easter Sunday sermon, the boys got gloriously muddy, I got to see my nephew and his family for the first time in years, and, it was overall a hugely fun day.




Till next time!

Fighting with Bearded Man.

     My sister came for a visit the other day. She walked through the door and commented how relaxed I looked, curled up in my chair with a glass of wine. I was trying to read the Book Club book selection, and it was at a particularly heartbreaking part, so, I had poured some wine to try and get through it. Also, the wine was really really good, and, after half a bottle of it, I didn't have anymore desire to read the book anymore that afternoon.


     Anyhow, I told my sister that this was the first time I had been in my recliner for more than ten minutes in longer than I can remember, because, I am never ever home. And, if I am home, I am supposed to be doing something. And if I sit down, then, the guilt of all the things I should be doing piles up and I can't enjoy it anyway. I went on with "And, I could not go tanning today."


     "Why couldn't you go tanning, Ri?" asked my sister in resignation.


     "Because, I couldn't leave Jasin alone for half an hour."


     "Why couldn't you leave Jasin alone for half an hour, Ri?"


     "Here we go." grumbled Jasin.


     "Because," I said, gulping more wine, "He was in a bad mood. And, I was in a bad mood. And neither one of us wanted to be doing the grocery shopping anyway. And, when we arrived at Wal Mart, there was this older lady walking right down the middle of the parking lane, and I couldn't get around her. Jasin got SO. MAD! He wanted to honk the horn at her, and wanted to lean out the window and yell at her, but, I was driving and I wouldn't let him. I mean - really? What is the hurry????"

     "I gotta say, I am with Jasin on this one. I HATE when people do that. I can't even deal with it." my sister said.


     "SEE???? IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!!" Yelled Jasin.


     "WHAT IF her husband was in the hospital, and she was all sad and preoccupied??? Did you ever think of THAT?" I yelled back


     "THEN SHE SHOULD BE AT THE HOSPITAL WITH HIM!!!!!" Bearded Man shot back


     "FINE! WHAT IF SHE JUST HAD TO PUT HER SICK CAT TO SLEEP, BECAUSE HE WAS SICK AND SHE WAS SAD?????? "

     "If she is THAT sad, then she shouldn't even be DRIVING!!!!!"


     "What if her poor husband had just DIED and she was buying FUNERAL CLOTHES????"


      "WHO RUNS OUT AND BUYS FUNERAL CLOTHES RIGHT AFTER SOMEONE DIES?????"


     "EVERY WOMAN EVERYWHERE, THAT'S WHO!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF HER GRANDSON IN CALIFORNIA IS SICK, AND SHE'S UPSET SHE CAN'T AFFORD TO GO THERE????"

     "BORROW THE DAMN MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


     "GUYS!" Interrupted my sister as we were shouting at each other, "You realize you are fighting over fictional stories that did not happen, right?"


      "Oh, we didn't even GET to the FLOODING." I snapped crossly.


     "IT COULD HAPPEN!!!!" Yelled Bearded Man


     "They literally came home like this" interrupted Lexi
    
     "Really?" sympathized my sister "Ri. Explain the flooding...?"


     "Well, all we did was argue the most of the time we were in the vehicle. If I said one thing, he said another, just to argue, and we were both just so mad at each other. At Wal Mart, I think we are on some kind of security flag, because we keep getting followed around by security when we are there - and we've never even DONE anything! And sure enough, while I was looking for something over in the seasonal department, I heard a thing on the loud speaker about a security issue "401" or something in Sporting Goods, and sure enough, Jasin ended up with yet ANOTHER security person yelling at him for standing there looking at something for too long. And, of course, we always get followed around the store. It's awful. So, that didn't help out tempers AT. ALL. God, I hate Walmart!"


     "Flooding?"


     "Oh. Yes. So, after the whole security thing - AGAIN - we were driving home and in a WORSE mood, and just spitting at each other over EVERYTHING, and, suddenly he says "I want to live up there - way up high on a hill, so I don't have to deal with flooding." and I said "Our house has been in the same place since 1875 with zero flooding issues. I don't think we really need to worry about it. And then he was all mad and said MAYBE the creek on ELM STREET could flood, and cause damage. And I was all "Really Jasin???? It is like half a mile away, and has never gotten anywhere near our house!" and he said "WELL IT COULD!!!!!" and I was all "For heaven's sake, Jasin, we aren't going to get flooded!" and he was all "Well, maybe the creek on RIVERSIDE could flood!!!!!!" and I said again that it was probably not going to happen. And then HE was all "IT'S SAFER ON A DAMN HILL!!!!" So I was like "YOU COULD GET HIT BY LIGHTENING ON A HILL!!!!!" And he said "THE TREES WILL GET HIT BEFORE I WILL!!!!!" and I said "THE TREES COULD FALL ON THE HOUSE!!!!" and he said "I WILL. CUT. THE. DAMN. TREES. AWAY. FROM. THE. DAMN. HOUSE!!!!!" and I said "GOOD! THEN YOU will get HIT BY THE LIGHTNING!!!!" and then HE said "How am I going to get hit by lightning?????" and I said "THE GOOD LORD WILL PROVIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


     My sister was laughing so hard she was crying at this point. "So, ,you two fought all day about NON EXISTANT things???? Like, really? Non existent flooding and you told him the Lord would provide a lightning strike to Jasin???"


       "We were SO mad at each other, that when we got home, car doors slammed, the front door slammed, groceries were brought in and slammed on the counter and we were both not even speaking to each other." I said. "The kids asked if everything was okay, and Jasin yelled "GO CLEAN SOMETHING!!!!!" and they didn't ask anymore.


     The more I explained this, the more absurd it became, as my sister once again pointed out we were barely speaking over stuff that had not happened. I started to laugh so hard I was crying, as I told her that we went over a bridge on the way home where the water levels were above normal, and snidely said "Oh look, Jasin! FLOODING! Better get home and prepare." At which point the language took a turn for the PG-13 crowd.
     Jasin and I were both laughing so hard we couldn't talk by the end of this story. My sister was incredulous that this had even happened.


     "Ummmmm, Mom? Dad?" ventured Lexi, "Why don't you build the house in the MIDDLE of the hill? Away from lightning and flooding both?"  Which is a perfectly reasonable solution for our non existent house, I suppose.


     Anyhow. I am trying to decide if I should contact Walmart and ask what the heck is up with the constant security detail, or, just continue to not go there if it can be avoided. Honestly, it's become pretty awful. All I can think is that we must look shifty? I have not stolen anything since I was six years old, and I took 2 whistle pop suckers from Bell's Grocery store, and my mom found them hidden under my pillow. I was spanked within an inch of my life, and then marched into Bells, where I was forced to apologize and admit to my terrible theft to the management, which, to date, is still one of the most humiliating memories I can recall.
     I am always nice to the Walmart employees, and, I even am nice through gritted teeth as the new security detail at all the exits goes through receipts and the content of all the carts, which causes a huge backup, and it's always brawny looking mean men who now have ear pieces attached to curly wires hidden under their shirts just like Secret Service men and the FBI. At that point, EVERYONE is treated like a dirty thief and glared at suspiciously, so, I guess for a few moments, it's not just us. Still. It's aggravating as all get out. If I am going to get followed around by security every other time I am at Walmart, the LEAST They can do is offer to pick up my 50# bags of dog food. Mostly though, they just glare at us suspiciously. They don't even try to hide the fact that they are following us anymore. We just accept that it's going to happen, and try to ignore them all. If I had ANY brains, I would go around buying embarrassing and suspicious things like condoms and bullets and duct tape and rope and garbage cans. But, why anger the Security beast? I just don't have time for that nonsense.


     Ah well. Till next time!

Minivan Soccer Mom

     Update on the hair: It still looks fabulous. My sister keeps threatening to move to Tennessee. (Something about unicorns and glitter and raindrops made of vodka or some such thing.) If my sister moves to Tennessee, then, I will probably have to re-locate with her. I have waited almost forty years for good hair. Even if I don't like vodka.


     Update on my sister's hamster. It continues to escape every single thing they try to cage it in, and, continues to want to live in the wall. Where it then proceeds to spend all day and all night every day and every night, digging in the wall. Which is enough to drive even the sanest of people crazy. Well, except for the one time when it was not in her wall, but, her son woke up with the hamster on his face. I am not even kidding, it has the biggest, creepiest teeth I have ever seen. (I don't think the hamster will make the possible move to Tennessee with my sister.) She recently put the hamster cage outside, because the weather was nice (And probably because she was hoping that it would escape OUTSIDE) and it did, in fact escape. But, her cat, "Meow" went looking for her friend, the hamster, and, after three days,  brought it back home. When my sister let the cat in last night, the hamster came in with her, and, he ran right back into the wall. My sister called me half laughing half crying. I actually put her on speaker phone, so we could all enjoy the story straight from the source.


    
     Yesterday I vaguely noted a Facebook post about soccer sign ups scheduled for last evening. I saw it, but then forgot about it, because my kids haven't really shown much interest in soccer, and, it is scheduled to take place on the heels of baseball season, and, we have Boy Scout and Cub Scout related stuff too, and, also, it would probably really take a chunk out of my husky walking evening strolls around town. So, forgetting promptly about it, I came home from work, donned sweats, snuggled into my chair to the rhythm of pouring rain, and happily thought of an evening tucked in with a book.
     George heard something about it at school, however, and will big blue eyes begging, my ball of constant energy asked if he could play soccer this year. So, the sneakers were dragged back on, and, my and my checkbook wandered over to soccer sign ups in the rain. I pulled up to the coach's house, and noted with interest that there were no less than five minivans parked at this house, as moms signed their kids up for soccer. As a minivan owner, I guess it's pretty much an accepted unwritten rule, that you are obligated to be a soccer mom if you drive one. I text a friend of mine to see if her kids were signing up too, and, she said they weren't. Well, she doesn't drive a minivan, so, technically she isn't part of the soccer mom club...


    


     Since these things can never be written consecutively, I need to confess that an entire weekend has passed since I was able to continue this.


     That being said: This past weekend was as crazy as usual. After being out all day with a friend, as we hit up several things in Buffalo, (Can we say craft show and butter lambs and wine???? It was such a good day!) I came home, fed everyone, and, once again tried to curl up in my chair with a book. I announced that I had zero intention of leaving my chair or my house until at least tomorrow. The boys went outside to play, and I was enjoying the relative peace. It didn't last long, because, I jumped about four feet into the air at the sound of an explosion, as a baseball came sailing through the window.
     I whipped outside, and started to yell at the boys, as the wind blew through the hole in the living room where the window had been. The boys though, agreed completely that this was not good. They both proceeded to take complete blame for the broken window. (Apparently George threw a baseball, which Joe then hit with a bat, and here we are.) George insisted that it was his fault, because it was his idea to practice, and, Joe insisted it was his fault because he had been the one to hit the ball. Both insisted that they were responsible, and both insisted on taking complete blame as well as any beatings. I laughed outright. I do not beat my kids. I threaten to beat them regularly, but, I am just not able to hit them. They are the most unbeaten kids anywhere, so, I do not know why they both thought it was coming now.
     (Side note here - they heard a story one time about someone who had a wooden spoon that she used to spank her kids with. That person called it "The Happy Spoon". My kids were so fascinated by this story that they confiscated the biggest wooden spoon I had at the time, drew an evil smiley face on it, and called it the Happy Spoon. For years, they would cry if they were in trouble, begging that I not use the Happy Spoon - That had never been my idea, nor have I ever used it. They scared themselves to death with that spoon. It's still in my kitchen....)
     Anyhow, I was, in fact, dragged out of my chair and out of my house  and away from my book, into the cold night, so we could hustle to the Home Depot before closing, to go buy a new window.


     The book I have been trying to read is causing all sorts of stress in my life. Someone local started a Book Club. I thought that was a wonderful idea, as, I have thought about having one for years now. It was so wonderful that someone took the initiative and started it! (The starter of this club, by the way, is no one other than Perfect Mom herself. I recently told her I think of her as "Perfect Mom" and I don't think she believed me. Mostly I am pretty sure she thinks I am an idiot.)
     We will have our first gathering in May, and a book was selected. I need to backtrack for two seconds here, and mention that, I work a fairly high stress job. It is so very very hard some days, to shift from high alert nurse, who is juggling four dozen things at once, as well as a largely mental health patient population, to, Mom who needs to keep the laundry done and get dinner on the table,  and not take my job stresses home. It is a very fine  line sometimes. So, when I DO have a few minutes to sit with a book, I tend to keep it very light on purpose, because I work very hard to not bring horrors home with me. It's called escapism. It's what keeps me sane.
     The first book selected is messing with me in a bad way. It's a Jodi Piccult book written in 2007 about a school shooting - and written to look at it from all perspectives. I am seeing so many parallels to the school in the book and my own kids' school. I also can't stop reading it from a work perspective. I have dreamt about this book. I have talked a lot about this book. I have thought constantly about this book. I have so many thoughts about this book. This book is everything that I try so hard to NOT deal with when I am at home.
     The thing about a book club that I never ever thought about was: we might not all like the book that is selected. Already, I am reading it while thinking "You will bring Texas Sheet Brownies to this function, and you WILL. NOT. SAY. ONE. WORD." because, sometimes, it's best to just shut up. something I have not yet been able to master in nearly forty years of life, but, am hoping to before May. I know. I know that I could decline this book and then just maybe start with the next one. But, at this point, I need the closure of finishing this book. Also, I really want to hear what all the other readers thought of it.
     I suppose, at the end of the day really, that, this was the perfect book. It inspired thinking and talking (and dreaming!) and is probably the best book to start with in a book club. I honestly cannot wait to hear the general discussion about it. One comment so far as bothered me though - someone mentioned on Facebook "Since this is a book about children and parenting..." And I found myself yelling "WHAT??? WHAT ABOUT THE SCHOOL??? THEY WERE JUST AS AT FAULT - IF NOT MORE!!!! THAN THOSE PARENTS WERE!!!!!!!" Ugh. Anyhow. We now have a book club in Franklinville.  And I plan to finish this book and be a calm and collected and grown up person at the Book Club meeting. I told Bearded Man that this book was really messing with me, and I was half afraid to go to the meeting with such an unpopular opinion. He said "Isn't your friend Rhonda going? She is really nice and somebody that everyone likes and who would be all calm and sound smart and stuff. Just sit by her and don't talk to anyone else. She seems to be able to listen to you." Which sounds horrible, but, he knows me well.


     Anyhow. That's pretty much it for now. All that gossip about a book club, while I plan my last two Sunday School Classes - which is why I am going to hell this week.


     Take care!