this is all about ME

stormy weather makes me feel all nesty inside.

nesty as in if i was preggers i would be cleaning the whole house.

but i am not.

it makes me feel like baking.

baking and i are not really good companions.

we have tried to make it work.

divorce is just not an option for us.

alas, we still have a tumultuous relationship at best.

this is, once again, not remembering a pan i very hot when coming out of the oven.

this is from hot butter dripping off the pan onto my foot through a sock.

the sock did not offer the protection i thought it might.

both traumatizing.

both hurting our relationship in ways we don’t know if we can mend.

yet two more scars from cooking to go with the other (and i counted) 5 scars i have already.

an experimentation

“chicka!?” the hubby called after i got home and asked where the girls are.

mumbled response.

“CHICKA!?” the hubby said louder.

the hubby is loud, even his whisper is not a whisper.

a louder mumble.

“well, at least we know they are in the house.” i said

we were in the kitchen when suddenly we heard 4 little girls walking up the steps outside, in the rain, in their socks and bare feet.

did i mention it was in the 30’s?

“what are you doing outside without shoes on?” the hubby asked.

“oh, you know you are not supposed to do that, we talked about this.” i told them.

“dee wanted to try an experiment to see if we can open any lock with a paper clip. well guess what? you can’t.” chicka started to explain with all the other little girls lined up shaking their heads in affirmation.

“so,” the confessional continued, “we opened bear’s bedroom window, climbed up the ladder out of the hole (window well) and came around to the door. don’t worry we closed the window behind us.” she proudly finished.

i was impressed because there is a window well covering that is very heavy doing its job very well covering the window well.

“you still should not be out without shoes.” the hubby said.

“what could we do? we were locked in the bedroom.” chicka asked.

“i guess it was a good idea you had. you won’t know if something works until you experiment with it ” i told her.

of course we will give the ‘experiment’ talk when she is older to experiment with other things that have more dire consequences when experimentation fails.

“thank you for your support mom.” chicka finished while leading the gang of experimenters back downstairs.

“they are just as bad as boys.” the hubby said as he watched them walk off.

and we are going to be watching this chicka way closer than previously planned when she is a teen-ager for escape routes.

another milestone met

“it looks like a part of your hair is shorter.” i said to an anonymous child.

“oh, probably just the way the water made it look.” the really wanting to remain anonymous child said.

“really?” a little light bulb going off in my non-anonymous head, “it looks like a gatorade lid was cut around in your hair.”seriously, perfectly round section gone.

“ok, ok, just let me tell you that cutting your hair in the mirror IS NOT EASY!!!”  the anonymous confessed.

seeing the distressed look on the face of the child i decided to not make fun or laugh, which was hard because the hubby was behind the child with a very red face laughing so hard yet not being heard.

“i just had a really long piece, and i do not know how people even let the hair get near their eyes.”

“yeah, it’s a bugger.” i agreed.

i see a trip to great clips  this afternoonbecause if we tried to even this self cutting job ourselves,

we would need a bowl.

our kids have always done things at their own pace.

potty training.



hair cutting…….

but darn it if they don’t eventually catch up.

a gaggle of awkwardness

one does not really know the definition of awkwardness until one witnesses a gaggle of teen-age boys.

voices cracking, long legs that don’t fit the body, pimples, more voices cracking, the fresh scent of acne wash and slight B.O.  and feet that look impossibly large on their frame, all piled into a truck for an adventure.

now that, is a sight to behold, and think once again that they will one day rule the free world.

and now i am off……

i am already 35 minutes behind schedule because i over slept by 34 minutes.

it is raining and i did not bag any of the papers on my route.

i am a risk taker and it was 60 degrees at 3:30 am this morning.

i don’t feel so risky now.

i need to go to the store with queen before dropping her off at school.

evidently, according to her note home, she keeps trying to use the microwave.

without food.

they have requested microwave-able food.

another milestone met.

once upon a time…….

once upon a time,

a very nice lady name lynnae, said i should start a blog.

that was one year ago today.

it all started with this.

now i was certain i did not share enough personal information on this one,

so i decided to add that.

along the way i started to babble about EVERYTHING.

what made us cry.

and most definitely, what made us get unexpected exercise.

but more than anything, my family makes me laugh.

now 442 posts later,


and 25,708 visits……

i am ready to blab for another year.

hopefully this year will be much more salacious.

i mean really,

what am i going to talk about now that bear is on meds?

an almost citation

“i almost got a citation at school today.” chicka told us at the table.

“ohhhhhhhhhhh you are BAD!” keats said.

“i would rather you always tell than not chicka. what was it for?” i asked.

“i would rather discuss it in private.”

“listen, you are a kid, you are going to get in trouble. i got pinks slips on the bus.” i started.

“what are pink slips.” keats asked.

“you get them when you have done something bad then your parents have to sign them. i had a pink slip and a pink butt.”

“what did you do?” the hubby asked.

“there was a HS girl who would hit the back of our heads as she walked by so i put my leg out and tripped her.”

“and how old were you?”

“about 9 i think.”

“i also got sent to the principal’s office for fighting in grade school.”

“fighting!!!!!?????” they all asked.

“yep. i even made it to the principal’s office in high school but i just took the blame for a friend for that one.”

this led to other discussions like the principal still being able to paddle kids when i was in grade school.

“everyone gets sent to the principal’s office sometimes.” i assured her.

“how about you?” i asked the hubby.




“how are we married?” i marveled.

we had not had any real serious communication up to that point today because my horoscope said communication would not be my strong point and to tread lightly.

given my criminal record, i decided to take the horoscope seriously today.later this evening we had chicka in her room and she locked the door so no one would hear her shame.

“well, i was playing with the three boys and they knocked me down and piled on me.”

“chicka, stop right there. when you talk like that i know you are lying.” i told her.

“okay.” normal voice going now, “the three boys were in midget mode (i like the game already) when i ran by they grabbed both me legs and knocked me down and jumped on me. that made me mad so i grabbed one and kneed him as hard as i could in his leg and had the other one by his collar lifting him up when the recess teacher blew her whistle and told me to come here.  i had to sit by the wall until she said i was done and if they did it to me again to come and get her because what i was doing was starting a fight.”

“do they chase you every day?” the hubby ask.

“yes, they are always spying on me, ruining my games and following me. i know why though. he has a crush on me.” she said as she walked out the door and shut it behind her.

the hubby and i looked at each other and started laughing.

what can i say? i was in a 3rd grade gang called the pinkies that fought boys every recess.

it’s in the blood.

a summary of events


“uh, hey mom.” came the voice on the other end of the line. “i just want to let you know i need to be at the church at 5.”

“for what?”

“oh you know, the camp out.”

“no. i don’t think i knew that.”

“oh, must have slipped my mind.”

it was 3 pm.


free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty i’m free at last.

we think this is what queen is feeling right now with bear on meds.

she is loud, proud and everywhere and we personally feel, torturing bear.


since being on meds, his taste buds seem to have awoken too.

pork, bbq chicken, brocoli, cauliflower (although those make me gag), oranges, strawberries, grilled cheese sandwiches, tator tots, burgers and things we don’t even know yet.

he has suddenly become so much easier to plan a menu around.

when the above mentioned freedom rider queen ran upstairs last night being extra loud bear turned to her, while pointing said “OH NO, NO NO NO GO AWAY!!!”

after assessing the seriousness of the finger point queen decided to take the yell machine in a different direction.

smart move.


“i am going to make sure our family makes it to 7 peaks this year!” chicka declared while waving the freedom to descend on 7 peaks in her hand.she needs to read 500 minutes to get one free pass.

i am not even lying to you when i say she has read 420 minutes in the last week alone.

too bad she does not realize that to get everyone free passes she would need to read 35,000 minutes.


is in the phase where she will tell on a person for breathing wrong.

i hope it passes soon.

i see a rough elementary school experience ahead.


lately, my source of entertainment has been to leave a paper on the front seat of my car so our lovely neighbor Gene can see it, then lock the car.

where is the entertainment?

watching him try to get into a locked car while having his holy grail so tantalizingly close.

this is revenge for shaking all the dandelions that had gone to seed in his yard into my yard after i had just finished digging them all up by hand.

if that does not give you permission to slap a geriatric,

nothing does.

a lesson in phonics

this morning i was helping in bird’s kindergarten class.

“when i sound out the letter, you write it down.” i explained.

“Duh.” i started.

confused look on the kid’s face.

“duh as in dog.” i added.

“or dick.” she added while writing the letter D.