That's Right...No Christmas Cards Again This Year

And I'm not sorry either. I didn't send out Christmas cards this year and I couldn't be happier about it. I don't know what my problem is with it. Perhaps it's my own little rebellion against the USPS, I'm doing my part to allow them to continue whining about how broke they are. Perhaps it's because I always wait until the last minute to get the kids pictures done. Well, not this year, this year we got them done early, but then, because they were done by a real professional photographer, you don't order them directly at the studio and apparently that is something that must happen in order for me to actually order them. I still haven't ordered the photos, so what, I'll get to it....maybe.

Perhaps I just don't like sending out the Christmas cards because I've done it for so long that I'm over it. When I was in elementary school, once I had learned to write in cursive, my dad came to the table with a stack of cards and a pen. He declared that I had such pretty writing, I should do the Christmas cards. Well, always a sucker for a compliment, I agreed to do whatever he needed me to do. Uh huh. It became, forevermore, my job. After writing out cards to my dad's 280 brothers and sisters as well as various other fringe family members for years and years, I'm suffering Christmas card writer's block. I just can't force myself to get out the address book and address all those envelopes and write all those "merrys" and "happys". So I won't and I don't. And I'm perfectly at peace with it.

The Vader Family Christmas Party

In following tradition, Bleaders, this year we finished up our own little Christmas and trotted our spoiled asses over to enjoy Christmas Day dinner with Vader's family. This is a sight to behold, let me tell you. There are anywhere from 15 to 150 family members crammed into the host's house at any given moment. Grandmas, Uncles, Cousins, friends of cousins, neighbors, friends of the neighbors, drifters, and even Californians. Hell, it got so crammed in this year, we were sweating and had to turn on the fans. Vader, as well as the rest of his family in it's entirety, all speak very, very loudly when together. Just get Vader on the phone with his mom or brother and he can be heard throughout our whole house. Friends of A & D are always like, "Why does your dad talk so loud on the phone?" Believe me, it's not cause he's on the phone that he's talking so loud, it's his family, they wouldn't know who it was if he wasn't shouting apparently. So, we've got a good 50 or 100 people in the house, all of them shouting, which makes others have to shout even louder to be heard and then someone happens past the stereo and notices that the lovely Christmas music is totally drowned out by all the shouting so it gets turned up super loud and the shouting is then literally at the highest level. People are cupping their hands around their mouths and yelling. I look around, stunned that no one thinks this is completely insane. Now, people are actually cupping their hands around other people's ears and shouting into the ears of their conversational partner. Shouting in ears.....like we're at a concert, or a monster truck rally. Eventually someone comes over to get the punch and turns the music down, probably because the vibrations of it were causing the punch to spill out of the bowl. It takes a couple of minutes for everyone to adjust, but the screaming into the ears does come to an end. It was a very nice dinner, sadly I had to scoot out of there around 8:00, somehow I had come down with a migraine....

From Our Family To Yours

Happy Holidays and a wonderful New Year to everyone!

I'm Now Prepared To Freeze My Ass Off

Catch up time! Get ready for a whole load of posts. I've been thinking of them, taking pictures for them, it's just too damn cold in my office to do anything about it. It usually runs about 48 degrees in my office this time of year. I used to have a little bitty space heater that told me the exact temp....until I blew it up last year from over-use.

Off To A Great Start!

Bleaders, if you'll remember the misery of last winter....the horrendous record breaking snow, most godawful winter bullshit ever, that was last year....you'll also recall that the children had but one measly, worthless snow day. Their little hearts were crushed as they no longer believed in the wonderment of winter, the magical snow day was just a myth after all. Well not this year! First snow, first snow day! What?! How do you like that, bitches? I know I like it very much....all except for the fact that my cancellation phone call came sooner than my alarm would've went off, thus I was up extra early. But, I didn't have to shower!

Just Happy To Be "D"

As we've already established, D is very interested in his ancestry. A week or so before Thanksgiving, we all sat down to eat dinner together. D cupped his hands together in a pleading manner and said, "Please, please, please, tell me I'm half Indian, mommy. Please!" Clearly, D is quite taken with all the Native American history he's currently learning in school. He's entranced by it, so I proceeded to crush his little heart and stomp it just a bit by telling him that he's unfortunately not half Indian. "Well, then what am I?", he asks, apparently his glee from finding out he's African a few months ago already forgotten. So I proceed to tell him...again.

Me: You're 1/4 Dutch...
D doing a fist pump: Yesssss!
Me: You're 1/8 Finnish....
D doing a fist pump: Wait, what's a Finnish?
Me: You're 1/2 African....
D doing a fist pump: AFRICAN! Yesssss!
D: That's from dad. Right mom, right? Don't they live in Africa? Are Africans from Africa?

Perhaps he can't remember because the excitement of it all is causing so much blood to rush to his brain that it's giving him little mini strokes, it's like excitement amnesia. Either that or he forgets purposely so that he can get all excited about it again, he's addicted to the excitement of ancestry. .......Well, who wouldn't be?

Winter Survival Must Haves - Stand Mixer - CHECK!

You do not even know the damage I'm going to do now. I got an early Christmas gift from my parents. My life's dream complete.....a Kitchen-Aid stand mixer. That's right, pure beauty in kitchen appliance mode. Armed with that and my vintage Betty Crocker cookbook I'm going to be unstoppable, amazing, and roly poly indeed. No one will know though, the snow is coming this week and so I'll not be emerging for the next 4-5 months. Count on it.

The New Salvation Army-Covering It's Own Ass-Screw Everyone Else

How's this for Tacky, Bleaders? I frequent many of the thrift stores in town, oh hell, in all of Michigan, one of which is The Salvation Army. Now, I mainly purchase knick knacks and toys from The Salvation Army stores. I do not go in for the clothing. Their return policy sucks and I have a problem that there is no rhyme or reason to their pricing. Let me give you a couple examples. At Goodwill, all kids clothes are $1.99. At Salvation Army, they may be $3.99, because you know, it may have an important name brand....like Faded Glory. At Goodwill, all women's shirts are $3.29, take it or leave it. At Salvation Army they may be $1.99 or they may be $7.99, again, could be an important name brand like Arizona with the tags still on. Yee. Ha. So you see my point, the pricers are either pranksters, or completely illiterate.

So in the last couple of months I've noticed a real lack of toys. I mean, I used to pick up doll houses, gorgeous stuffed animals by the armfuls, Bratz dolls, fantastic board games, just all around great stuff. Now, there is nothing, zippo. A small bin of stuffed animals and a couple bikes, it's just horrible. I decided to ask an employee what the heck is going on. She informed me that they aren't putting toys out anymore. I asked why and she said that they are afraid of lawsuits because of all the toy recalls concerning lead. I of course told her that most people are well aware of which toys to avoid....I'm looking at YOU Mattel....and that they could easily avoid putting out the toys in question....Mattel.....and put out all the ones that are good. I said that there has never been a problem with MGA/Bratz dolls, Little Tikes, I don't recall any board games or puzzles that were recalled. I certainly don't remember any recalls on stuffed animals. Some Barbies had problems, but it was just the accessories, not the actual doll. I mean, this is easy stuff, I told her. It's sad, I said, that they would just throw away perfectly good items, and in effect throw away money, especially when they have a responsibility to the community to provide low cost goods as well as to the foundation that they serve. Well, she quickly informed me they don't throw any of it away, surely she didn't want me to think that. I asked what they did with it then. Oh, they box all the toys up and send them to South America. WHAT? They are so concerned and wouldn't want to poison the precious little children of the United States, but it's okay if they poison the children of South America? I mean, this must just sound like a great solution to them. They get a write off, they don't fill up the land fills in our great country, and no one in South America that will receive these goods has any money to sue them. It's a win-win for The Salvation Army.

For me, I'm completely done with Salvation Army, done donating, done giving money to the red kettle, and done shopping until they get their priorities in order. If you're worried about poisoning one kid, you better worry about poisoning them all, not just the ones who can sue you. If you're not going to be knowledgeable about sorting your donations, let people know at the door that their toy donations won't be resold to people that can use them here in the States. Spread the word, Bleaders, your donations don't count at the Salvation Army.

Packin' On The Pounds

Well, I know it's a little early, but I've started putting on the obligatory layer of winter-warming fat. It's really due more to the fact that I injured my back and my activity has been very limited, than the fact that it turned cold in August in Michigan this year. However, admittedly, I've been highly tempted by all the delicious fall foods. Daily pots of fresh applesauce, homemade apple pie, warm chocolate chip cookies to warm the hands and bellies....seriously, the melt in your mouth-goodness-list goes on and on. So anyway, I'm definitely feeling it and I don't see any change in the near future, after all, the holidays are fast approaching. Bleaders, if you don't have a vintage Betty Crocker cookbook, you just don't know the deliciousness that I can come up with to make every day, not just the holidays, cheerier! Between Vintage Betty and a cookbook by the up-north rural Churchladies, the J household is sure to look roly and poly when we emerge again in the spring. Can I get an Oink Oink!

It's That Time Of Year Again

The time of year when I request a weekly (or daily) spending limit be placed on the Playmobil website. Clearly, they don't reply to my requests. Letting me loose on that website is like letting me loose in the Grand Traverse Pie Company with no calorie limit, have you seen their Dutch Apple Pie? I can't get enough of Playmobil. I love everything about it. The themes, the accessories, the size, the smell, the taste. I seriously want to eat every last piece of it. I love it so much I feel the need to squeeze the shit out of it. Everytime I see something on the website, I think about how much fun I'm going to have on Christmas morning putting it together and setting it up. Obviously, the amount of fun I'm going to have in those two areas is a huge determining factor if I decide to buy it for the kids. Or if I decide to talk the kids into loving it and letting them know they will need it for their lives to be complete.

Frankenstein Has The Music In Him

Both kids looked fantastic this Halloween. What's most amazing though is the huge repertoire of dance moves that Frankenstein has in him. He just can't keep from shaking those hips and showing a little sass. Oh, Sassy Frankenstein, show me more of your Egyptian dance. Let me also point out, that huge hair on Bride of Frankenstein, it's all hers, no wigs for A.

Don't Breathe, Breathe

Well Bleaders, as you can see, today was x-ray day. I should've had them taken yesterday, but clearly, I was far too exhausted to get over there....literally. So today I decided to go directly after waking up. Well, that's not entirely true, I should say after getting around, I've been awake since 3 am. I think I got a good solid 4 hours before I woke up though, so high five that.

As you can see, I'm grinning and baring it. Actually, mostly I'm just grimmacing. The x-rays were in fact taken lying down, not a good position for me. They asked if I could be pregnant before we got started. Ha! If Vader shifts positions in bed and jostles me a little bit I'm near tears & awake for the next 2 hours. I can't do anything that involves undressing, lying down, sitting down, rolling over, bouncing, twisting, bending, or any variety of movements that would in some way cause my hips to move my legs in an outward position rather than straight ahead. With this laundry list of pain provokers, it was easier to just say, "No, I'm not a masochist."

New Pictures From My Life....Coming Soon

I have lots of fun ideas for the Pictures From My Life series. I just have to get my hip feeling a little better so that I can actually set something up. I know, I know, what's the problem? Why did I have kids if not to do my bidding, right? Well, true as that is, they just don't understand the finer points of the photography of my life. There has to be some humor in it, it's just very complicated. The humor of elementary aged children is centered around farts and boogers and frankly, that just doesn't photograph well.

New Name

Well Readers, I've decided you need a new name. I'm bored with Readers. So, I've decided you shall be called Bleaders. You know, for Blog Readers, nice and simple. It was either that or get all complicated with Blogging Mastered, but it came out as Basterd (sic), or BMs, so I decided Bleaders was my best option. If you prefer to be called a Bastard, or even a BM, let me know I'll be happy to oblige.

What I Wouldn't Give For A Good Nap

Where have I been you ask? Well, I've been doing a lot of standing around. Seems that's all that I can really do anymore for any length of time. You may remember that I injured my back a couple of months ago. There are lovely pictures of me crawling up the stairs. Anyhu, it's still not better. My back is, but the remaining injury to my hip is sending these lovely shooting pains down to my ankle if I try to sit, or drive, or sleep. Hell, even if I try to sit and pee. None of this is working for me. I'm in pain constantly, I can't sit for long so I'm broke because I can't get on ebay, plus I'm completely exhausted because I haven't had a decent night's sleep in 2 months,. What kind of bullshit is it that I can't lie down, whoever heard of an injury that consisted of only being able to stand all the time? I'm learning to deal with it, I mean, what choice do I have? I stand or walk as much as I can throughout the day, the problem is, it makes me even more tired and then....oh yea, I can't lie down. Then I try to think of ingenius ways to work around the pain. The problem again is, I'm so damn tired, I can't come up with anything. It's gone on for too long, I'm wiped out. I finally broke down and went to the doctor yesterday. Who knows what will come of it, I just want to be able to do something besides stand without biting my tongue to keep from crying. At this point, I just need reassurance that this isn't going to be my life, that this will get better and I can return to my bed to catch up on a lot of lost sleep.

My Life Is Now Complete

Oh the splendor. The wonder of it all. It's exactly what I've been dreaming of and I didn't even know it. A giftset. A teeny giftset of teeny Barbie as she's changed through the decades. Shut. Up. There are actually 6 tiny dolls in the giftset, not shown are Teeny Brunette Bubblecut Barbie and Teeny Number 1 Ponytail Barbie. They measure only about 2 1/4 inches. As you can see, they are all dressed in an itty bitty replica of their original outfit from the year they were released. Is there anything cuter than a miniscule orange plastic bikini with a white net cover up? Now, I know you can't really get the full appreciation of them from this little bitty picture, but I assure you, they are stunning. I want to just eat them, or crush them in my hand, like I'm King Kong until their heads pop off, or stuff them into my bra so they can go everywhere with me. That's how much I love them. Sadly, I can do none of those things as I'm not supposed to know about them. They're a super secret Christmas gift. Yeah right. One that I'm going to be drooling over in my office daily because I can't let it out of my sight.

The Big 3-0

Clearly nothing exciting is going on here. Nothing. I can report that it's freezing cold, I've sadly even had to turn my heat on. You don't know how that kills me. I don't normally go to such extremes until November. This weather is bullshit. With it being so cold, nothing is going on outside, everyone in the neighborhood is gathered around the fireplace under their wool blankets. So that means no exciting moments from China, not even in Ninja Stealth mode. That wrecks my day.

The most exciting thing going on, besides that I've made 3 apple pies in the last week, is that I had my birthday. Even that wasn't anything new though as I've turned 30 for 7 years now. It's getting old. I might have to change it up, make it 29 or 31 next year just so I can feel a little more excited about it. On the upside, Vader did remember. Of course, his best wishes for my birthday and subsequent birthday plans, took place after the kids gave me big hugs and loud happy birthdays. So really, there ya go, nothing new.

PS. I do have fantastic new "items" to include in my Pictures From My Life scenes. However, I'm not even going to use them for photos until something exciting happens, they're too good for that.

Neighborhood Ninja

Hmmm....do you know this person, Readers? No? Why it's China! You just don't recognize him because he's in his stealthy ninja thief mode. That's right, Readers, if you're moving out of your house in this neighborhood, make sure you mean it and take all your belongings with you the first time. Otherwise Ninja Thief China will have to bring his loot bag over and clean up for you. Leaving you scratching your head, wondering where your things have gone. China doesn't like a messy neighborhood, he wants it neat and clean, so keep that in mind before you try and make two or three trips to gather your things. Get it done right the first time. Geez.

Now, you may ask yourself why this is in my blog. The answer is because China told me I better not mention it in my blog. Mainly I posted it because he looks so cute in his ninja thief gear, but beyond that, his antics prove to me that he wants me to post about him in my blog. He loves the attention.

Readers, you may be asking yourselves why I would move from here. How am I going to even continue writing a blog when it means leaving behind the wonderful "characters" in my blog. I mean, this kind of stuff happens daily in this neighborhood. Anyway, I'm here to warn you, my blog may be shit after I've moved. Complete crap, not worth taking the time to read it. However, Vader is coming with me. Vader is always worthy of reading. Oh, Vader.

Oh Hell

Apparently, the One Woman Mob has sold her house. Readers, what am I going to do now? Who is going to take care of the animal carcasses that seem to pile up in my path? What will I do when China takes his gun out of retirement? Readers.....what is to become of me????

New Ew

My kids don't know the word disgusting. In their world everything is dee-skusting. That must be just horrifically gross, I'm guessing. Like so bad that you can't even say the word properly for the fear of what it will do to your tongue. It's dripping with vileness.

Or it could be that's the way Vader says it. Vader. Where do you come up with this stuff, now I have to de-program your children.

The House Is Open!

Good news, I got my shit together enough so that I was able to pull off an open house this weekend. My back wasn't totally in shape, but it was good enough to scrub the floors, swiffer the ceilings and febreeze the curtains. Vader was a big help to me and we showed the crap out of this house, the open house went great! No offers yet, but we're sending positive thoughts out for one in the next day or two. Mostly because I'm postive we'll see some snow in the next month or two. I'm not having it, Readers. Not. Having. It.

Friends & Neighbors

I believe I've mentioned my friends VD before. This unfortunate combination of initials was completely unrealized by them until I so lovingly pointed it out to them one winter evening. How this fun-fact could be lost on them after 16 plus years of marriage I'll never know.

The combination of mine and Vader's initials were not lost on me even while we were dating. I mean I had to think about the ramifications of it before I even thought about marriage. We're T & A. My initial is the A and sadly, I don't have a lot of ass, the T I have in superabundance though. What are you gonna do? Oh well, we just didn't get initials that suited us just right....I won't speculate on others, that's just not my business.

Food, Friends and The Musical Stylings of Free Spirit

Last night was the 3rd annual VD September-fest & Rib Cook Off. I think it's obvious by the name that it was hosted by my friend V, who puts the V in VD. As well as her husband who technically is D, who puts the D in VD, but he's always been known in this blog as China and will be known as such forevermore. You can refresh why he's known as China here and also here. September-fest is a success based on who shows up, how good the food is, and if they can get live music. In my judgement this year was total success. BFF Good Joo came up from Indiana along her with hubby, Free Spirit. Of course they brought Little A and Juicy B. Free Spirit has a mini-band with his friend, Dentist. They play such favorites of us 30-somethings as Bon Jovi, Poison, Neil Diamond, and even a little Simon and Garfunkel. You can see by the pics of the party that Free Spirit looks like a farmer, that happens when you move to Indiana farm country. By next year he'll probably be singing Kenny Rogers and Willie Nelson. You can also see Juicy B, she's got the music in her, she can't get enough Bon Jovi. What you can't see in the picture is Good Joo loudly heckling Free Spirit. It didn't even throw him off track, he's a true professional.Vader was very into the music, as you can see he's really letting loose. Then of course I'm sitting with Good Joo, E, and V. V is next to China who has his BFF Mini Me practically attached at the hip. Now, I'm going to have to point out that I'm on the left of the picture. I notice that there are others that look like me, nearly everyone was Dutch so we were blonde and everyone clearly copied my outfit, how embarrassing for them. They must all read my blog and have been studying my sense of style. I'll take it as a compliment.This is a great photo of the party-goers as well as V & China with his BFF. For those of you who couldn't attend, China was the undisputed winner yet again of the rib cook off. I highly recommend stopping by the house of VD some night around dinner time if you smell grilling meat. China does magical things to his meat.

This is another aerial picture I had to take for The Fest so you could take in the splendor of food, grills, mini-band, and loads of party-goers. And Vader. Always the splendor of Vader.

Well Readers, it's never fun to say goodbye to summer. But that really depends on who you know, doesn't it? Who wouldn't look forward to an end of summer party such as this? I for one am happy to say, "Good-bye summer, bring on the VD Septemberfest!!"

Just What I Needed

Oh Readers, I put out my back. I'm not sure how, but I'm very sorry about it and I've learned my lesson. My back is a sensitive, important part of my body and I now know that I shouldn't treat it badly by doing heavy lifting or any other forms of hard labor....that's what Vader is for.

My story in abbreviated form follows, for sitting is still a problem for me and I can't do this for longer than 15 minutes.

I couldn't get out of bed this morning, not because I was tired, but because I physically couldn't move. By the time I pulled myself up using the bar on the treadmill, I was sweating and 10 minutes had elapsed....it was then I found out that I couldn't stand. My left leg didn't work and I fell back onto the bed, clearly in pain and trying not to wake the neighbors with my yelling. I finally decided the only thing I could do was crawl. So, I carefully dropped off the bed and got into the crawling position where I was unfortunately facing the wall and not my door. It's a tight space between my bed and the treadmill, so I had to get back onto the bed and figure out how to get down again...but facing the correct way this time. Now, you may think this is a lot of bullshit to go through, just lay in bed and call the kid in sick to school. However, I knew that I had only about a 2 minute window remaining before I peed my pants. I had no choice, I had to get to that bathroom. I literally crawled onto the landing and then up the stairs. After using the bathroom I crawled in to the tub so that I could get some heat on my back, resulting in finally getting some movement. After that I was able to stand, dress, and get the kids around...albeit very slowly. Finally with much pain I got into the van to take D to school and he was amazingly only 10 minutes late. Then, sadly, I had to go to the grocery store because otherwise we wouldn't be eating today. Poor A had to help me out the whole time. I couldn't bend to get anything and then I shuffled around the store using the cart as a sort of walker. I'm sure everyone was thinking, "Look at that sweet little girl helping her 85 year old crippled grandma as she shuffles through the store."

Three Guesses

I know, I look crabby. What could be wrong? Could it maybe have something to do with Vader? One look at my face says yes.

Vader and I have been married for over 12 years. In December, we will have been together for 16 years. That's quite a while. And to this very day, Readers, as in TODAY.....he still doesn't know my birthday. Don't get me wrong, we don't really do a gift thing for each other, no big celebrations, I'm an adult, I don't go all crazy over my birthday. But my husband could at least know the date. Without guessing. After 16 years. 16.

Huge thanks to my sister for the special effects, making this picture possible. Because of her, no more hats for me on my crabby days!

Happy Birthday Vader!

Poor Vader.....it was his birthday last week. Not only is he suuuuper old, I wasn't at home to cook him a birthday dinner or celebrate with him. Thus, he ate lots of fast food, as is evidenced by his birthday photo, and went to bed early. Now, I'm back from my extra long weekend and I plan to curb his fast-food eating and cook him some good meals and a belated cake.

I would like to add that I think his birthday-boy crown is a nice touch, and he should make that a more routine accessory to his always fashionable ensembles. Excellent use of bling, Vader.

So Sorry

This is Gonna. Gonna is BFF Good Joo's beautiful kitty. I lost her picture last week. So sorry Gonna. So now I'm posting her picture and I'd like for you to notice how darling Gonna is, she looks so cute and cuddly. Well, don't judge a book by it's cover, Readers. Gonna has just shredded two chairs, a rug, an innocent child's plush toy, and then threw up a hairball under Good Joo's table. Then she posed for this picture. As you might've guessed, annoying Good Joo is a favorite pastime of Gonna's.

Also, please note Good Joo and myself in the background. We are smiling through the pain of our suffering with the shared sore throats. Actually, Good Joo may be imagining herself giving Gonna the boot. Ah Gonna, it's a fine line with Good Joo and I think you passed it after the shredding of the chairs. You don't mess with an Obsessive Compulsive's furniture, unless it's a simple rearrangement, and expect to get away with it. Sweet face or no. So sorry Gonna.

Oh So Much Help To Me

Vader is addicted to mountain biking. We have to work it into our family schedule, vacation schedule and even move around the work schedule....for the biking. Don't get me wrong, I love a hobby, I have a few myself. However, this past-time of his is wearing on me this week. I have far too much to do. As I was cleaning and painting and packing and taking care of the children last weekend to prepare for the realtors, here is a picture of Vader....coming home from his road ride.

After returning from said road ride, he was overhead talking with a mountain biking buddy. What was said, didn't please me. He's decided he needs to up his riding days. He's just not getting in enough rides. So this is a picture of him loading his mountain bike onto the car for the mountain bike rides he took last week during the time that I was very busy being frantic over all manner of things including my completely virus ridden computer, and how to get everything done in a day without my computer since my job is solely on the computer.

Perhaps I wouldn't be such a crab about all the biking if his list of things to do before we sell the house was finished. Perhaps I wouldn't be such a crab about it if he didn't lose 5 pounds with every single ride and then tell me how loose his damn pants are. No one wants to hear about your amazing weight loss, Vader.

The Last Summer Outing....In The Cool Fall of August

Yesterday we took a family excursion to Indiana for the day. Indiana, for certain does not = awesome. Isn't it amazing what we will do for our friends? Cause I'd turn right around and do it again tomorrow, Indiana or no, just try and keep me back. We made a full day of it too, used up every second of fun at our day in Indiana. We spent our day at the house of BFF Good Joo and family. Here is a picture of her darling girls and the best dog in the world, Lu. Go ahead and admit that they are the cutest things you've ever seen and you want to squeeze the shit right out of them. Of course a picture can't really capture the sweetness of Little A and the juicy squeezability of B.

The only thing I would've maybe changed about the day is to leave at 9:00 pm instead of nearly 10:00 pm. I had to drive home, Vader was far too exhausted for that. Go karts are hard work. Here is a picture of us on our way home, I'm high on caffeine and everyone else is out cold. Thanks everyone.

So now I'd like to post an open letter to Good Joo and family. An open letter in part because Good Joo is required by the bonds of friendship to follow this blog and this forces her to do so. The other reason is because since she's no longer a part of the neighborhood, she isn't mentioned often in the blog and isn't included in all the neighborhood dramas. Poor Good Joo.

Dear Good Joo, Hubby, Little A & B,

Thank you, thank you, so much for a fantastic day! Everything was so wonderful and we had so much fun. From antiquing to putt-putt, dinner around the table together to watching B play in the dirty dishwasher, all of it...enjoyable. We can't say enough thanks.

Your A is an adorable little girl and has become so much fun for A and D. They don't just want to watch her play and laugh with her, now they wrestle around with her, find things everyone can agree to play together and just enjoy each other's company. Admittedly I miss the little firecracker that swore with reckless abandon and wasn't shy about showing her disdain for D, but who wouldn't miss that? And who wouldn't love Little A as she is now? Oh, here's a funny story from the ride home. Apparently D realized that wanting to play with Little A was clearly reciprocated by her and this is what he said:

D: Today was so great. We need to do this more often. A was so much fun and didn't even want to hit me. Do you think it's because I'm tall?
A: Hmmm, well you have been growing. Could be.
Me: Huh?

Anyway, I'm so glad to find I'm not alone in all my crazy, I need to tear all my hair out, episodes. Thank you, Good Joo, for having them too. God, we even became sick at the exact same moment from antiquing in what must've been basements full of black mold. That's awesome. Shared sore throats form a cement bond around friendship. But Good Joo, why couldn't we have had a shared pregnancy instead? Why? I need a fat B too. Ooooh, that Vader, wrecking my cement bonds and baby moments.

Well, we all just want to say thanks for a great day. Don't expect that we're not going to want to do it again soon. We'll just see if we can't schedule a day between barfing babies, strip club outings and mountain bike excursions again. I know, I know, we are two very busy families, but it seemed to work out perfectly this time.

We love you guys and miss you already, the neighborhood is too quiet without you.
Love Leaf, Vader, A & D

Welcome Autumn

An early autumn is upon us. I don't know what we did in Michigan to deserve this, but we got pounded this winter, we had a super long spring that extended right into August where we had 2 weeks of summer which quickly turned into early fall. It's freezing for August. Highs in the 60s, grey, and rainy. The leaves have been changing and falling for 3 weeks now. My poor kids barely got to go to the pool at all. If it wasn't for the 4 weeks of fantastic swim lessons, they quite possibly could've forgotten how to float this year. I did take them to the beach....it wasn't warm those times either. But hey, if you're having fun, you become immune to the hypothermia. You power through it, cause that's just how we roll in Michigan.

Here is a picture of one of their fabulous swim lesson days. Look how fun. All the mommies and grandmas...so proud. We were proud because the heater kept breaking on the pool and the little darlings just kept swimming in that freezing cold water, it was actually worse when they got out, windy and 70 doesn't make for a good swimming day.

I'm Never Sick

But today I am. Readers, I'm not going to lie to you, I feel like death warmed over. I don't know if the was the culmination of the huge New York show, working like crazy when I returned to get the house ready to sell, the stress of packing up my beautiful things, and finally my computer dying yesterday leaving all my ebay buyers in the lurch, or if I simply caught a bug, but whatever it is, it has got to stop. Here is a picture of poor me, looking all miserable, the one time this morning I was able to extract myself from my bed. No part of this was fun, believe me. Now I have my computer back and besides from the all over body-aches, I'm feeling much better. I'm sure that will all change when I get my "Huge Amount Of Horrible Viruses And How Has Your Computer Worked For This Long" bill, from my computer guy. I'll probably end up right back where this picture was taken.

Relaxing With Vader

Admittedly I did take a break this week from all the packing. Vader and I took a few minutes to talk about our week while he was grilling one night. It was nice to just enjoy each other's company for a few minutes and relax. I sure do wish he'd hurry up and mow the grass though.

New Series ~ PICTURES FROM MY LIFE

In this new series of posts, I'll be showing you glimpses into my life through real life pictures. Here is a picture of me from this past week. As you can see, I'm not really happy. In fact, I look extremely grumpy. Yes, I am wearing a hat, what am I to do, it's a very bad hair day. The house is clearly a bit of a mess, but you can see I have been busy packing up boxes!

Ohhh Emmm Geeee

I don't remember signing up for this shit. I'm exhausted. Inside, outside, all over. I constantly fall asleep sitting at the computer, watching tv, just basically anytime that I sit down. Why? Because I'm running around all day long. All day. I thought it would be a great idea for the realtor to come over on Monday. I must've forgotten that I had just gotten home from a huge show, hadn't cleaned my house during the week I was gone, and the week before I left, in order to get ready for the show. I also must've forgotten that I needed to paint my basement and my outdoor trim. I know I forgot that my kids' rooms were such a mess you needed a shovel to get through them. Regardless of being totally unprepared for the wreck my life became this week, I got most of it done and the realtor was pleased. Very pleased in fact. I have to finish packing my dolls, (weep, sob, throw self on the ground) and do 3 other minor fixes that we just couldn't complete before he got here and then we're on our way.

For sure it wasn't easy (my throbing headache and stiff neck tells me so) and I don't expect maintaining the condition on a daily basis is going to be easy, but it's going to be worth it if I'm sitting in 80 degree AZ when the first snow falls in Michigan!

New Levels of Suckiness

I know, I suck at this. Why have I bothered. But you gotta bear with me. I'm beside myself with all the chaos right now.

I'm trying to get ready for the humongous week long antique show that I'm not only shopping at, but selling at this week. What was I thinking?? I haven't done any of the tiny one day ones close to me...so hell, why not travel 10 hours away, stay in a casino hotel, and sell for a whole week! Perfect, that's a great way to break into the biz. My mom and I are overwhelmed at this point with all we have to do. I have lists peppering my house, I keep having dreams, no make that nightmares where I forget to go shopping, and then to make it even more stressful, my dad says the trailer is full. Full?! I have way more to put in there though. Have you seen my house??

So Readers, I'm sure I'll be back in better form in another week or so. Or not, don't forget, I still have a house to sell.....

WAAAAAAAAH

What The ^%#%@$...%$#%! Are You Kidding Me?

Please Readers, be sure to click the link on the right to view my current asiasdolls auctions on eBay. There may be something fabulous you never knew you needed. You may call this shameless self promotion. Whatever. I call it, "Have a heart and help a momma out." That's right, my tiny little $30 car repair just turned into a humongous $514 car repair. Never even saw that one coming.

The Haunting

Vader is in Texas this week. So really it's not my fault that I had to invite E to come over with her shovel. That handy dandy shovel that takes care of the stuff of my nightmares. You know how there are movies that haunt you? Mine are Amistad, Schindler's List and the like. I literally try for years to erase the images from my mind. It's no different for me, the images of dead animals. The sight actually sticks with me and just seeps into my thoughts the way boobs and butts seep into the minds of men at all hours of the day and night. Anyway, I had no choice but to go get E to pick up the dead baby birds that tumbled out of their rooftop nest onto my lawn. I was beside myself, just writing this is giving me a stomachache. I feel a little lightheaded right now.

Poor E though. Today I had to ask her if I could borrow her ladder so that I could break into my house. When she saw me coming she said, "What happened, another dead bird? Should I get my shovel?" No E, just a little breaking and entering, but I'm thinking I should probably get you a tool belt with a shovel holder just so it's always handy.

For Mature Readers Only

Let me just say that when I moved to this neighborhood I was fortunate enough to live in an area with some wonderful people. To say they are great neighbors really isn't true, they are great people that happen to be neighbors. Please understand, the Crazies are plentiful on my street as well. You know the type, you see them and quickly do an about face, head down, back into your house. All the while whispering the mantra, "Don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact...". None of it matters, these are the type of people that just follow you on into the house, grab a seat on the couch, and ask what's for dinner. Anyway, aside from those 3 or 5 special treasures, the people I share a neighborhood with are some of the best people I have ever had the privilege of knowing.

In saying that, let me just point out that everyone has their, um.....quirks. Sometimes funny, sometimes bizarre, sometimes.....scary.

Here follows our story:

One neighbor (we'll call her E) that is truly a wonderful friend and person, I just love her, recently had an unfortunate break up of her relationship. Now, believe me, at the time I thought her ex-husband to be straight stupid, E doesn't possess a single bad quality. Now, after getting to know her a little better....I find him even more stupid, perhaps fatally so.

Another neighbor who has made his way to my postings before, China, has a vendetta against the squirrels. On this street we had a few crazy squirrels as well. Some might call them friendly, but when they peer into your storm door and knock to be let in, to me that's crazy. When you bring out the broom to scoot them off the front porch and they instead help you sweep, that's crazy. China had only the best intentions in mind, to rid the neighborhood of the crazy, and potentially rabid squirrels, when he bought himself a b-b gun. He's only thinking of the children after all.

Well, one lovely spring day, China turned out to not be the best shot. Here is where the horror begins, Readers. Be warned, the following story is not for the faint of heart. China had thought he had a good clean shot on the squirrel, the squirrel disappeared and he thought that was the end of that. Until poor D discovered the squirrel under my hose reel, paralyzed on the whole lower half of her body with a large round hole on the side of her body. China's calling card.

The squirrel was in pain, but still mobile and was limping under the fence and trying to get up the tree, not able to figure out why her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to do. China was conveniently gone. I cannot handle looking at (let alone touching) dead or dying animals, not roadkill, not a little mouse, not even a whole chicken in the local grocer's meat counter. I ran to E's house. Before becoming a full time mommy, E worked for the pharmaceutical companies, we all know what that means. Well, to be honest, Readers, I really didn't fully know what that meant. So I tell E what has happened, she's appalled. She says, "Hang on, I'll be right over....I'll bring my shovel." Whaaat? I just say okay, I don't really think I want to know what she's talking about. And I was right. She spots the squirrel and announces that there is no saving the squirrel, the bullet hit the spine and she's dying. She said that she's going to have to kill it because it shouldn't have to suffer any longer. The squirrel at this point is behind my next door neighbor's garage, I go around to the side of the garage so I can't see anything because this is the part where E, kind, calm, loving mother of 2, whacks the squirrel to death with the shovel. The whacking stops, I ask E if she's okay or not, she says yes, but she just wants to make sure that the squirrel is really dead. I go to open the neighbor's back gate so that she can take it out back and I see her and think she's burying the squirrel right there instead. Nope, she's just standing up on the shovel on top of the squirrel's neck, "To make sure the spinal cord is snapped and she's completely dead.", she says. I'm about to pass out at this point, I steady myself on the gate. E then listens for breath sounds, scoops the squirrel up in the shovel and takes her out the back gate to bury her in the woods. Meanwhile, my head is between my knees and I'm biting my tongue just to stay conscious. This is some shit, I know I couldn't pull this off for the good of the squirrel or no. I'm beside myself, this is a one woman mob, this is a woman you do not f*ck with, you don't do it. She can take you out with a whack of the shovel and then bury you with it. At this point, I realize I would not want to be China. Further, I wonder what her ex-husband was thinking, he definitely f*cked with her. Perhaps he didn't know the extent of her knowledge of the snapping of the spinal cord.

At the time of this writing both China and EX are alive and well. They learned a little something that week, don't mess with the One Woman Mob. China apologized for the terror caused the squirrel and distress caused to E, and packed away the b-b gun. EX has taken up ass-kissing.

Oh The Treasure!

My faith in the summer yard saling has been restored. I went up north for the weekend and proceeded to fill my van with finds not once, but 3 times. One time for each day that I went searching. As you can imagine, I'm quite impressed with myself. As you can further imagine, my husband, and father (whose house I was staying at), were not so impressed. In fact, my mom and I decided at one point to hide some of our stuff from our first trip out, in a closet. We completely forgot about it until I was about to leave 3 days later. Well, we started to remember the stuff we had lost, but we didn't even remember where it was. After a couple hours of searching, phone calls to my husband blaming him for losing it, and sitting on the couch completely befuddled, we opened the closet and it was like Christmas with all the stuff I pulled out.

And yes, Readers, it was stuff I needed. Don't even tell me that I don't need a Vera Bradley purse for 50 cents. Don't tell me that I shouldn't own a vintage Barbie that someone literally gave me at a yard sale. How about my vintage Trolls in the boxes that I picked up for 30 cents at a church sale, you know I need those. And I laugh at the person who suggests I don't need a vintage 1950s paper lampshade for $1.

While my goal is to clean out my office, I simpy cannot pass up these wonderful finds. The cleaning out of stuff will have to wait, I can't pass up a treasure at a great price. So, today my goal is to clean out my van so that I can fill it with more treasure next weekend.

So what? I've been on vacation. Gimme a break, it's summer after all.

A Simple Request

I have one tiny little request from my readers. Please sign up with Google or whatever other accounts you can use through Blogspot. Then either leave a comment someday or become a follower for me. I keep getting little surprises of people who've been reading my blog and I didn't know it. Really people! How am I supposed to know who it's safe to talk about? How can I tell all of your embarrassing stories (with completely anonymous names of course) if you're someday going to read it and then never speak to me again? Geez. A little consideration....

I'm Home For Just A Minute

School is out and I'm busier than ever. I've been home a total of two days in the week since school got out. Please, don't anyone think they can make plans with me, apparently the plans are made and I'll be too busy to even feed myself. I'll just take 5 minutes and have a feeding tube inserted so that I don't have to worry about that for the rest of the summer.

I did get to go yard saling a couple of days this week. That was a good time. I won't joke, with the economy being what it is, yard saling is harder work than it ever was before. No one is getting rid of anything and if they do, it's because there is no use left in it anymore. The thrift stores are so busy, you have to wait in lines that are as long as Meijer on a Saturday. All of it is hard work. But sometimes, it pays to go out. This week I picked up a $200 doll for $4. That will be a pretty nice return on my money. Here's the kicker though, I have to list some stuff on ebay (and I loathe ebay), but I'm never ever home. Instead what happens is that I go out, find some stuff after much work, stack it in my office (or family room, sorry family), and then leave for like 5 days. I come back with a bunch more and the stacking continues. I'm supposed to be cleaning the crap out of my house and de-cluttering so I can sell it. Basically, I'm going to have to stop the buying, but let's face it, that's never going to happen. Something in my brain makes me go. There are deals out there and I'm genetically bound to go out looking for them.

I Just Can't Deal

I wish I could, but I can't. There is too much to do and not only am I not able to do it all, 2 more things come up with each one that I finish until I'm literally wallowing in accumulated "so-much-shit-to-do".

At this point, I'm beside myself with with shit-to-do, and so I'm just giving it up for the night, probably for the week. Clearly it's making no difference. My thinking is, by not working on something, I won't find another 2 chores to work on. If you do the math, by the end of the week, I'll be better off.

I need a nice large garage sale, with loads of cheap crap to cheer me up and make me feel like the world is good again.

Banned From The Laundry Room...Yet Again

Oh OCD, you serve me well. You help me make my home cleaner, my children cleaner and full of manners, and recently, my planet healthier. My kids are totally into the whole recycle thing. Vader has been much more reluctant. He's not ashamed to admit it's because recycling takes way more work either. He's coming around though, it takes me a lot of time training him and I feel like a broken record, but the rules are finally seeming to make a difference and he's really learning.

With the recycling anyway.

With my new Better The Planet Compulsion, I figure out new ways to help out the planet and save money. I don't want to use my dryer and really haven't for about 2 years. I figure I use my dryer about 2 times a month right now. This doesn't please Vader, thus he's been banned from the laundry room for a couple of years now. Not that it stops him. He always tries to sneak in there when I'm away and do a load or 4 of clothes. I come home and see what he's done and flames come out of my eyes and smoke from my nose while I curse him with infinite abstinence. Then he gets all pouty when I'm not proud that he's just finished all the laundry and thank him for it. What? I know I don't get a thanks for doing laundry and I save money and the environment at the same time. He claims then, that I must not like doing laundry, ipso facto I don't like to work, and so that's why I've chosen to do it this way. Oh hell...no he didn't. I have to do laundry every single day because I don't use the dryer and it's way more labor intensive. So I calm down, tell him once again that he's banned, don't even talk to me another word about it, end of story.

Until the next time.

Yesterday was the next time, Readers. I came home and he was actually hanging laundry on the clothes line. WHAT? I was shocked. It was all his clothes, cause that's how he rolls, but at least he was trying to turn over a new leaf. Until I stopped and thought for a moment. I ask him, "Vader, what did you do with the laundry that I washed this morning?" (It was waiting for me to put it on the clothes bars.) Vader says, "Oh, there was a whole bunch of small kids stuff in there and everything. I didn't want to mess with that so I put it in the dryer." At which point my head spun off my neck, flew around 360 degrees, landed back in place just in time for my eyes to shoot out flames like Cookin' Mama's. It's my own fault though, I knew I should've called to check on him. He just can't be left home alone without proper supervision. Next time I'm hiring a babysitter. I think the 9 year old girl across the street will work out perfectly.

A Memorial Day Full Of Tacky Memories

O. M. G. The flea market....it was not a disappointment, Readers. All I can say, you should've been there. I'll do my best to narrate the finer moments for you, but it's really best appreciated in person. If you haven't been to a large, outdoor flea/antique market recently, I say find one, race to it, and frequent it. Not only will you get a few good laughs, you'll also just feel better about yourself. Nothing like an ego boost on the backs of those too clueless to not only not properly dress themselves, some just don't get dressed in general.

This was one of the most scantily dressed crowds I've come across in many years. We're talking about huge boobs allowed out to roam free and relish the fresh air with only a thin tank to keep them from completely escaping. I suppose it would be appreciated by some if said boobs belonged to a fit, 20 year old woman....probably not so much on the overweight, 50-somethings with their girls hanging to their belly buttons that I witnessed. The shorts were not much better. Now don't think I'm exaggerating when I describe this....there were women wearing shorts that had cellulite that had gone all the way down to their ankles. Please understand, not just dimples, full on lumps everywhere. This may not be so bad except that they were wearing elastic-waist banded short shorts that literally gave them camel-toe. Readers, it's awful, you have to look away because it's so horrible, but how can you not look? There is a huge, bare, mass of flesh moving on it's own toward you and nowhere to avert your eyes but a scrap of fabric that leaves nothing to the imagination. And when they turn around...butt crack. Here's the good news, I didn't see anyone's underwear. Bad news, it's because they weren't wearing any.

Please don't think that I didn't hear my share of sexually charged jokes and comments this year. The men, though better clothed than women this year, made no attempt to hide the fact that they would prefer women to be unclothed completely. Don't think they care who overhears them either. Don't think they care that they have no teeth and are running around in a Member's Only jacket (unzipped because it won't close around the belly) trying to soften a donut between their gums, cause they don't, Readers. I'm sure the women are flocking to them.

The port-a-potties are always one of my biggest issues with going to a flea or antique market. I never thought I was alone in this feeling of disgust, but this particular show always surprises me. Over the years we've noticed that many of the pottie occupants have no idea if the pottie has hand sanitizer and show no aptitude for even understanding what sanitizer is. This year we were blown away with the comfort that people showed in the potties by emerging from them with their paperback novels. I fear, by next year, management will replace all the hand sanitizer dispensers with magazine racks.

I did have a marriage proposal. Not because I'm hot, no, because I was seen carrying furniture through the aisles to my vehicle. (Clearly I've toned my muscles from dragging all my curb-age found/purchased furniture to V's house.) Potential Suitor thought I looked tough and strong so he wanted to marry a woman who was a "worker". Potential Suitor wasn't all bad, he was completely clothed, but he was about 75, I told him to keep looking. Sadly, he was probably senile too, he'd forgotten who I was by the following day.

Now I'd like to take a quick moment to note some of the things I've noticed over the years about the Amish that frequent this show....and compare them to the Mennonites that also frequent the show. (P.C. Disclaimer: Only the people I know from this show, I'm not trying to make a general comparison of all Amish and Mennonites.) The Amish just do their own thing, but the Mennonites seem determined to set themselves apart from the Amish for whatever reason. Perhaps this is not a good thing.
Amish- kick ass baked goods
Mennonites- okay baked goods, appear to be stingy on the sugar, this is not okay with me
Amish- funny and sarcastic, will totally joke around with you
Mennonites- prefer you don't talk to them at all, will set the evil eye upon you if you try
Amish- children sit/stand quietly and wait for their parents without making a sound
Mennonites- allow little ones to wander alone & touch/destroy everything not belonging to them
Amish- women wear unfashionable, professional looking dark solid color dresses
Mennonites- women wear unfashionable, tacky calico print dresses
Amish- men wear unfashionable, professional looking dark solid color pants & shirts
Mennonites- men wear whatever the hell they want, they're men dammit

Well, I've completely emptied my memory for today. When I think of more fun times I'll be sure to fill you in. Let me just tell you if you didn't attend, you missed a good time, clearly. I'll be happy to let you know when the next show is if you want to partake in all the fun as well. There's no reason that you should neglect yourself and have to live vicariously through me. There's enough butt-crack to be seen by all, but only enough Amish-made pumpkin roll for me.

If You Need Me, I'll Be Treasure Hunting

'Tis the season! Next weekend is Memorial weekend, the unofficial start of summer! That means it's time to brush up on your hooters jokes, dust off your belly shirts (or for the men, just your belly), throw your cash in your bra, and head to the flea markets! Life is good. And it's going to be even better this year because once again, I'm going to be selling at them. And no, Readers, it's not just for fodder for this blog. Don't be silly, it's for the cash too. And the early shopping, don't forget that part. Oh, I can hardly stand the anticipation, I know that there is treasure just waiting for me. And any of you that know me, know that I'm short on treasures, I definitely need more treasures to drag into my home. Definitely.

Newly Added To My OCD List

As you may have ascertained from my posts, I have some obsessive compulsive tendencies. Since the birth of my children, I have shifted those tendencies....a tiny bit. I don't have to vacuum everyday anymore, they can have some mess in their rooms. I still like things picked up and in their place, but I can put up with them making a mess and even playing with toys in the living room...for a short period of time. Assuming they are fully picked up at the end of the day....even if I have to do it. The OCD has in fact become more focused on them. I want them to have polite manners, excellent table manners, they need to be clean and neat, with teeth brushed, in an outfit that actually matches. And is cute. And appropriate. And stylish. Did I want to pull out my hair when D would have his cute little shorts outfits on with his rubber rain boots..in 95 degree weather? Why, yes Readers, I did. He was so little that you could barely see the outfit over the boots. And rain boots just aren't appropriate when it feels like 120 degrees with humidity and there isn't a cloud in the sky. But, we'll save a discussion on D's obsession with rain boots for another post. More than that though, I worry constantly about forgetting certain memories so I'm forever writing cute things down, taking loads of pictures, and taking video when I can. I have a pile of crap on my scrapbook table so deep, that I couldn't possibly hope to get through it in my lifetime and they haven't even reached the teen years yet. Now you'd think my everyday OCD, combined with my OCD I've created for myself by birthing children would be enough for me, but it clearly isn't as I've added a new one.

Recycling. My kids have luckily picked this obsession up so I'm not completely on my own this time. I recycle every single thing that I can. I even go through my parent's garbage and bring things home that they can't recycle. I go to specific stores to buy products that are packaged in recyclable material versus materials like styrofoam that I can't recycle here. I buy meats that are at the meat counter and insist that they are put into the freezer paper. I try not to use plastic baggies, but if I have to use them for cold lunches, I make my kids bring them home so that they can be recycled. I am down to about one garbage bag of trash every 4 weeks, my goal is 5.

Here's an example of what keeps me up at night. Worrying about transferring my videos of the kids onto DVD before the tapes disintegrate, wondering about what happened to the picture of D after his first haircut - it's been lost for 2 years, and figuring out new ways to reduce my trash output. Add that to actually falling asleep and then having nightmares about missing great deals at garage sales and I'm as close to an insomniac as you can get folks.

So Amazing, It's Lickable

I'm working very hard to get some decent curb appeal going on over here. Things are shaping up and I'm going to share my current love with you. Right now, I'm in love with Rust-Oleum Universal spray paint. Universal because it works on everything, Readers. Ev. Ree. Thing. How can you not love that? So, I took my sun bleached, trashed, vinyl pots and turned them into beautiful, expensive-looking, showpieces with some Universal Hammered Brown. I'll get some pictures posted soon, get ready to be impressed. Now it's on to my boring plastic outdoor chairs, I think Universal Crimson Red sounds like a winner. Oh Universal....where have you been all my life?

Happy Birthday Baby Girl

Well, it was a very busy week and this week doesn't look like it's going to get any better. It was AJ's birthday last week. My little charming, chubby, sumo wrestler, baby turned into a 5 foot tall, skinny, ass-kickin' karate master, 11 year old. All of a sudden. Really, it feels like it was practically overnight. Her birthday usually tends to draw out over a matter of days, not just a day. She has to have her special day with us on her birthday, then she has to have a special day with her best friend where I take them to the mall. Then she has to have a special day with her grandparents (and, or my sister & family depending on if they've left the state or not). She didn't get to have the exact meal she wanted on the grandparents party day because we had to switch our plans a little bit, so we'll be finishing that up on a whole other day. She really knows how to drag out a birthday, Readers. It's a talent. All I know is that I'll be telling everyone I meet that she's 9. That's a much more acceptable age for the oldest child of a 29 year old after all. Just because she's a year older, I don't think that means I have to be too. I'm quite comfortable where I have been for the last 6 years.

This Time I Just Forgot About You, Readers

Where have I been? Well Readers, I've been busting my ass on my house. The spring cleaning bug hit me a little late this year, but now it's full on cleaning frenzy around this house. Out with the old, in with the new. Get rid of the dirt and dust, bring on the sparkle and bling. The only problem seems to be that as the cobwebs get cleared from my house, they gather in my head. I had all these things that I was going to write and I can't remember a single one. Little anecdotes and stories from recent days, completely wiped out of my memory. I always was afraid of being one of those scattered people that you can't even hold a full conversation with because they're holding two conversations (one with you, one with themselves), eating a snack, and writing out their will. Despite my best efforts to hold that craziness at bay, I think it's happening. I feel myself starting to and wanting to ramble in this post even. It takes all my effort to keep my brain steady and to even just sit still long enough to get it done. I don't sit still during the day until I've completely worn myself out. I'm sure I'm suffering late onset ADHD. And some stress induced amnesia, that's a real condition....right?

It's On

That's right, Readers, the time is now! Yard sale season is upon us and life as we know it will never be the same. I'm talking early mornings, standing in line at every denomination of church in the city, digging through bins boxes and sometimes trash cans, and finding the most phenomenal deals EVER! Can you stand it? The excitement is almost overwhelming isn't it?!

Dragging every bargain home, whether it's from a sale or the curb (know what I'm sayin' V?) is my obsession. Hell, it's what haunts me, a possible missed treasure is the stuff my nightmares are made of. (And I'm totally serious, I have recurring nightmares about missing out on fabulous finds, it's just not right.)

He Never Runs Out Of Jokes...Cause He Doesn't Know Any

I've noticed a trend in age 5-7 year old boys. They don't get the knock-knock joke. I believe I've met one or two that did, but for the most part the concept is completely lost on them. Example of standard joke telling by DJ:

DJ: Knock-knock!
AJ: Who's there?
DJ: TREE-CAR!
AJ: Tree-car who?
DJ: .............

Example 2:

DJ: Knock-knock!
AJ: *sigh* Who's there?
DJ: BASKET-HOUSE!
AJ: Basket-house who?
DJ: Ummm, I forgot.
DJ: Oh wait! I know! KNOCK-A-DOODLE!!

Yes, I know, these are stellar jokes, when's his book coming out, right? Would you believe me if I told you makes them up entirely by himself? He was even so kind as to entertain his cousin with them during spring break 2 weeks ago. She was completely perplexed, but was happy to laugh at him when he would manically break down after completing one of his "jokes". That's the other thing I've noticed. The less sense they make, the funnier they are. Clearly, a knock-knock joke is at it's best when there is one made up word, and at least one nonsense word. All I can do really is roll my eyes and go with it. They say laughing at yourself is good for you and my kid laughs insanely and often. He's sure to be the healthiest person in the family.

New Trend: Plastic Grass

What's my newest hobby, you ask. Why it's pulling multitudes of dandelions and violets from my lawn...by hand. I can't spray anything on them, I'm currently in the midst of my last desperate attempt at reseeding. So, daily, I'm off to look and see what the rain has spawned fresh in my lawn. It's a losing battle and it's getting more hopeless hourly as the leaves are just about to pop, forever shading the little seeds making it impossible for them to open. My house is destined to be the only one on the block with the small patchy clumps of grass and lots of blowing dirt. I mean, Vader and I busted our butts on our anniversary last year trying to smooth out the lawn, getting it ready for seeding, to no avail. We changed tactics and thought we'd wait until early spring to try again, when the sun can actually touch the lawn, but the tree is not cooperating with my grand plan. Right now, I'm really liking the idea of the fake grass like they use in Arizona. Actually, real grass is bad for our air and water, in the spirit of Earth Day today, I'm completely advocating fake grass. It might have just a little something to do with the fact that I can't grow any, but inspiration takes many forms.

I Don't Sleep On The Job, Even On Vacation

Consistent. On vacation, at home, at least we can say, I'm consistent. It's just I don't want to let anybody down, don't want my kids to think I'd lay down on the job of getting what's right and fair.

What's my daughter's favorite thing?
"When mommy has a conniption fit."
Why?
"Because she always gets her way."
Damn straight.

In Arizona, we had a little issue at the Ikea eatery. We went for a quick dinner in their cafeteria as a family. Involved were my parents, my sister and her family, and then myself and the kids. There was a bit of a misunderstanding between the lovely greeter downstairs who gave us dinner coupons, the cafeteria server, the cafeteria cashier, and me. Of course as fate would have it, I was in line first. The misunderstanding was going to cost me a whole lot more money than I was willing to spend. After much gesturing, waving around of my hands, exclaiming about fine details being ignored by staff and etc, I was given my way. This in turn positively affected my parents and sister, who were also given my way. And a supervisor never even had to be called.

"What did you say to her?", my dad wanted to know. I don't even know what to say about that, apparently he hasn't talked to my daughter who could tell him that I always get my way when I have a conniption. Or it could be that waving my hands up to the heavens was enough to scare the poor cashier into thinking that I had some contract with God and He would strike her blind if she didn't find a way to get rid of me. Overall, it was a pretty minor conniption, very easily executed and I wish someone had videotaped it so that I could learn from it. Then I can apply those same techniques to my next conniption to perhaps shorten the time from explaining whatever random problem is on my mind to having said problem ultimately fixed.

The other issue I have, that I just couldn't get away from even on vacation 2000 miles away, the need to Swiffer. I really didn't have enough time for it, but I did take one afternoon where I put some real quality time into Swiffering the tile at my sister's house. I went through like 5 or 6 Swiffer cloths and eradicated lots of pet hair and major dust bunnies. I wished I could've done more, but I can't tell you the joy I felt every single time I would then walk past the knickknacks in the corners knowing that dust bunnies were no longer making their homes there. Swiffering....it's good for the soul.

Just Let Me Use My Words!

Here's another little burr in my side. I'm not even sure if it's politically correct, I haven't discussed this with my homosexual friends yet, but I don't appreciate the new commercials about "It's wrong to say things are gay."

I love words, I think I've made that perfectly clear in more than one of my posts here. Love them. One word I happen to like the sound of and like the feel of it when I say it is queer. I think it's so quaint, and reading it in books, like, "She gave him a queer look, he wasn't sure if she was angry with him or had just ate a bad clam.", makes me want to go out and use the word. Sadly, queer is associated with being a homosexual and saying to someone, "I love that little picture, it's queer, but I think it'd be cute in the hallway.", could be misinterpreted by people to think that I think it looks to be homosexual. Homosexual is the proper term. Not gay, queer, or other less desirable terms that I won't mention. These are all words that had actual meanings before they were re-interpreted as meaning homosexual. It ticks me off that people are spending money telling people to not use the word gay, when it's not being used in it's original meaning for their purposes either. You're darn right I see things that I would term gay. Things that are so bright and cheery that often times it borders on insipid. Like gaggingly happy. You know, blindingly bright flowered pants, my kids on a bike ride on their way to get ice cream, the Dick and Jane stories, Hello Kitty. Now, do I think any of these things are homosexual? Um, no, but I would love to be able to use the word gay about them, without being attacked as being some politically incorrect snob.

I certainly don't like any put downs for any group of people and I don't want my friends put down ever, so I agree gay shouldn't be used in a way that is inappropriate. I also have no problem with my homosexual friends being called gay, or calling them gay if this is what is preferable. I just don't like that gay has been so fully ingrained in our society as being a word with a single definition, that I can't even use the word in it's original form so that I can fully emphasize and detail my feelings about something in the most descriptive way possible. For godsakes, all I want to do is tell the world that my husband's left calf is queer. I certainly don't mean it's a homosexual calf....it's just so much skinnier than the other one, it's an oddity, truly the definition of queer if I ever saw one.

Such Disappointments

I generally try to be a positive person. I'm happy, I love life, I enjoy good humor and love sassy sarcasm. Some weeks just give you more than you can take though. Here is a short list of things that are currently ruining my life.

1. Lying Liars who lie.
2. Teachers who insist your child can't read, yet admittedly aren't personally involved in teaching them said skill.
3. The dissolving of the best church sale ever.
4. The gradual increased suckiness of the 2nd best church sale ever.
5. The most gorgeous, softest, thickest, bake sale sugar cookies ever...tasting like mouse turds.
6. My lawn.

Don't feel better about yourselves Liars, just because you're in a list of six things vexing me. You're still at the top of the list and won't be leaving anytime soon, like ever.

Late addition:
How in the hell did I forget number 7??
7. Hover Moms

That's just bullshit.

Literal To A Fault

As I've mentioned in a previous post, A & D have had some issues with understanding race. It actually has caused some problems in their development. They didn't understand all their colors until they were in kindergarten.

D would hear that his daddy was black, but he sees his dad as he really is, not in terms that are commonly used to describe people of color. Knowing that his dad is black, all things brown are called black. Ipso facto...all things black must be brown.

Me: D, go and grab your black shoes and your backpack so we can get to school.
D returns with brown shoes and backpack.
Me: D, I said go and get your black shoes, those are brown.
D: (Very patiently with me) No, mommy...these are black.
Me: Okay, get your other black shoes then.
D: I don't have any other black shoes, I have some brown shoes though.

Let me just tell you, it usually turned into a "Who's On First" performance until I understood that he matched his shoes to his dad. He was just so confused about it. By the time he was nearing the end of kindergarten, he could name black and brown things, but it would be like, "This is black right, no brown, no black...right?" Just think of growing up your whole life thinking that cats are called dogs and then having to retrain your brain that those are in fact cats, not dogs. That's what it was like for my kids because they knew black people, weren't usually black.

They finally got their colors straightened out, but it doesn't stop the confusion as evidenced by D in The St. Patrick's Day Revelations post. When A was in 2nd grade they were doing a section in Social Studies on the Civil Rights movement. We were talking about it on the way to school one day.

A: And Rosa Parks was supposed to give up her seat on the bus!
Me: Well, there were a lot of unfair things. Not only couldn't black people keep their seats on the bus, they couldn't drink from the same drinking fountains, or eat at the same restaurants.
A: That is so sad, mommy. At least it didn't happen to anyone I know.
Me: No, you probably don't know anyone.
A: Yeah, I'm glad I don't know any black people.
Me: A! You know tons of black people.
A: Who!
Me: Um, your DAD! Your grandparents, Mrs. Smith, Jabari, Khayari....
A: WHAT!?

She was blown away and sadly, she cried a little. She argued with me a little that it couldn't be because all of these people were light brown, dark brown, or tannish. It didn't help that all the photos of it....were in black and white. I explained that during the Civil Rights leaders decided the best thing to do was to call themselves black to make it perfectly clear what exactly whites were afraid of, the color of their skin. She was disappointed they didn't choose brown, but she was also really devastated that relatives of people she knew were treated unfairly. In the beginning, to her, this happened to a group of people that she had no ties to in any way, you might as well have been telling her that this was a Civil Rights movement for monsters and dinosaurs because she didn't know any and didn't think she ever would.

Luckily, A is mostly straightened out now. D, well, I'm sure we still have work to do with him. There's lots and lots of work to do with D yet. Oh so much work....

Bustin' My Butt

Well, the kids are quite thrilled with themselves as spring break quickly approaches. I hardly have the time for looking forward to it with all the work that it entails for me. I despise wishing away time, but I can't help but say that it'll be wonderful when it gets here and all this work can stop for a week and I can relax with my kids. Except for feeding them, bathing them, dressing them, the cleaning up after them, and disciplining them. It's gonna be great....

I will say that I have been doing a few things for myself, like exercising. I've already lost all but 2 of the winter warmth pounds that I put on. I think my despicable "spot" is gone, I haven't seen it for awhile anyway and my butt is getting in shape. I'm just having problems with what I've always had problems with...isn't there any exercise for shrinking boobs? Seriously, if anyone out there knows of one, I'm desperate, but I'm also not holding my breath. Why are there all sort of ads for belly fat and ab tightners....for gods sakes, my boobs are as big as my head, who's got a product for that? I'd buy that one in bulk. All I know is that I've gotta hurry up and find something, I'm 35 now, in another 10 years....they aren't going to be sitting so pretty anymore.

Revelations On St. Patrick's Day

Well, last week was St. Patrick's Day. Being that no one in mine or Vader's family is Irish or Catholic, it gets pretty much ignored at our house. So, in keeping with tradition, St. Paddy's Day was Tuesday as usual in the J household. We don't even bother wearing green, why would we....see above.

Poor D came home with stories of children being pinched for not wearing green (luckily he didn't or else the principal and I would be having another lovely chat) and he just couldn't understand why that would happen. I told him that was so tacky and I couldn't explain why that would happen either, for goodness sakes, even the people I know that wear green and celebrate the day don't know what St. Patrick is the patron Saint of. So anyway, in the midst of my explanation and why we don't wear green or celebrate the day, (which maybe I would celebrate the day if I knew what fantastically wonderful thing St. Patrick did for all of humanity) he wanted to know where his ancestors were from. A agreed, she knew some, but she wanted to know more. It was wonderful, my kids, wanting to know about their history.

So, first I explained that they are a little more than 1/4 Dutch. A adds, "From you, right mommy?" I say, "Correct A", she's so clever. Then I explain that they are both 1/2 African. Holy shit, stop the presses! D yells at me, "Whaaat?!" Covers his mouth, bouncing around in his booster seat, extreme joy coming from every pore of his body. He's thrilled, he's excited, he's totally feelin' his roots. He shouts at me again, "FROM WHO!!!!?" Now, it's very hard to keep a straight face, but god, you gotta love the innocence of this kid, he's frickin' clueless. He looks excitedly over at his sister, who to her credit is keeping a straight face and being very nice, and loudly whispers to her, "Can you believe this?!" He starts clapping as I tell him that he's African through his dad's side of the family. His response, just this, "Wow!", in utter awe. (To you Readers who know Vader and may not have noticed, as my son clearly hasn't.....Vader is black.)



For some reason my children have a very different view of race than I or really anyone expect from them. I think for Vader and I, we know that there are other points of view out there, but we don't really notice them and certainly don't focus on them. Our relationship is based on so many other things besides color, that our kids have picked it up and see absolutely everyone as equals in every way. I feel lucky that we have a very normal, perfectly happy life without serious complications that other couples in our situation had even 20-30 years ago. Anyway, I'm sure I'll be writing about some of the other issues my children have had learning about race, it's interesting and honestly, funny. You wouldn't think that a mixed race household would have complications explaining about race to their children...unfortunately, I think it's really that we're having to teach them that where they see no differences, others do. In a way, that's kind of sad.