Packing Heat

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook about how the area we live in and raise our children in is changing.  Not for the good, I might add.   People are breaking into homes,  following people in parking lots, robbing stores and criminals are being chased down by the police- forcing lockdowns on our local schools.  It is not safe- and maybe it never was - we were just living in a bubble of bliss and choosing to ignore what is in front of us.  It is a problem either way you decide to cope... I am home alone with the kids a lot.  It is making me take a good hard look at my surroundings.

That said I may need a gun.  I little pea shooter that is easy to handle.  I don't want to kill anyone but I do want to stop them if they threaten me or my family.  Let me retract that.. IF they come after my children I will not hesitate to unload the entire PEA POD into their sorry rear ends.  We clear?  Groovy.

I need to discuss this with the husband.  I am going to need the hardware and a future lesson or two  would not hurt.

  Here is how I feel like the conversation will go as I play it out in my head:

Me- I think I need to pack heat!
Husband - Oh babe, You are hot enough!
Me- Blushing...


What is really going to happen- option 1

Me- I think I need to pack heat!
Husband- NO!  You will end up being the one that gets shot.


OR Another version with him that is totally possible: option 2

Me- I think I need to pack heat!
Husband-  I think you have enough heat- you are freezing the rest of us with the air on 69 year round and opening the window when it is 30 degrees..
Me- sorry

And so - there you have it... - to pea or not to pea.. that is the question.

My Belle

Let me lay the foundation for you:

This time last year I was starting to feel a little anxious about my daughter finishing elementary school.  Middle School is tagged with the negative- and some days- the stories you hear are TRUE.  It is a time when being "different" in any way will make you feel like it is the end of the world.  Parents becoming a necessary evil in the said child's pursuit of happiness.  Hormones start to emerge and eye rolling is a natural response to any and all questions.  It is a time when "laying on the bed" is an activity.  It is hard on a household.  However, it is also a time when doors start to open.  New opportunities arise and kids can "try" new things that interest them.  I like that.  I like the fact that the box has expanded.  
Mackenzie has dabbled in two new things: Archery and Drama.  Drama has stuck- she loves it.  This year she auditioned for the two school plays and got a part each time.  I was proud.  The schedule is tough and some days I had to question the amount of time she was spending on the play and not her school work.
After the last production of the year, she hopped in the car and announced next year the Drama Club would be doing "Beauty and The Beast".

Fast forward to last night-

I saw Mackenzie rummaging through the video drawers and asked her what she was looking for-
she said "didn't I have Beauty and The Beast when I was little"  * inner thoughts to self- your still little PRISS*  I told her "of course, she had all the princess movies".  She continued to rummage and I went about my business.  A few minutes later, I heard the Disney intro on the TV.  She found it.  She watched every single minute of it.  This has not happened since she was around five or six- so inside I was smiling.  I was a dog with a bone.  Old memories of her tromping into Target with her plastic high heels flooded me.  WOW!
After the movie went off she announced she was going to bed.  It was only around 8:00 so I read between the lines:  going to mess with her hair, going to smash in her junk journal, stand in front of her mirror admiring herself- the normal but not sleep.

Around 10:30 I went to the kitchen to (HMMM- THAT IS NOT REALLY IMPORTANT- NO NEED TO GET INTO THAT) anywho- as I was saying, I went into the kitchen and heard Belle- Live in CONCERT-  I walked towards the steps and then I heard Belle talking to..... who exactly?  Chip, Mrs. Potts.... THE BEAST?   I took the first step ( the child talks to herself like I do- Not genetic- must be environmental).. then singing again!   So I listened.  This was so much different than when she is in the shower bellowing out.  I smiled- she has talent.  She sounded beautiful.   She has a great love of the theater and I have a great love for her.  I walked away and let My Belle continue the "play" in the privacy of her little room.
 Note to self- I always KNEW she was Mackenzie Belle - it was the number TWO name on my list when I named her :)  My sweet Grandmother's name was the only one that could have and did change that.

Have a beautiful day!

PayPal-

So I have not had a Paypal account in years.. and a month or so ago I was browsing the internet shops and found that an account of this type might be useful.  I love Etsy and other little personal owned boutiques.  Most are scrapbook related that I browse and some have amazing deals on designer products- 75% percent off amazing deals!  mmmhmmm you darn tootin' - hard to pass up!
So after adding to cart a few items on clearance and proceeding to go to checkout- I found my only option of payment was "PAYPAL"- well, guess I need to set one up and link it to the checking account- you know six of one/ half a dozen of the other type deal.  NO BIGGIE.... ahem

So I did.  I entered the account number and scanned in a marriage certificate to change the name on the OLD /UNUSED account that was once out there.  Changed addressed and hopped through all the hoops.

Then I went back to my "little gem of scrapbooking happiness store" and proceeded to add stuff back to cart and check out.  WOOHOO- HAPPY MAIL IS A COMMIN' SOON!  Confirmation email received- ROCK ON SCRAPBOOKING FRIENDS- ROCK ON!

Fast forward  about 4 days.  I get an email from PAYPAL- saying my account number is not valid.  HMMM- not valid you say?- trying a fast one you say?  I disagree- but I will delete and add it back.  So I did.
Wondering if it worked- I decided the only way to know for sure was to test it.. so sadly *sarcasm* I shopped some more, added to cart and clicked on Paypal.  I get another confirmed email- and then to keep an extremely long story somewhat short- 4 days later- a reject notice..

GRRRRRRRR!

One evening around diner time I shared the experience with my NOTECHNICALPROBLEMICAN'TFIX  husband.  So he decided to tinker with the account himself... * at this point and time I would LIKE to point out he did the same exact exercise I had done previously- guess that makes me smart too*  Any who- he attached a back up plan to my account so the orders would go through IF all else failed- okay,  that was nice!

Fast Forward again- a few weeks later....

Another attempt- another failure being blamed on my bank, but never fear they dinged the back up plan. The husband decided to call them on my behalf- he had come to the conclusion that since the bank account was already attached to his Paypal account they must have a glitch in their system.  ummmmm OKAY- sounds good- call them ( inner thoughts- I feel sorry for whoever answers the phone and attempts to argue with him about a technical problem in banking no-less, that is his forte)

This is really long- so sorry-

We called- I talked to the girl and told her the husband had my permission to make whatever changes they needed to make to correct the problem because I have a little person that needed to go to bed.
They are on the phone for over an hour-   at times I hear his voice jump up in sheer desperation and I know the "agent" is not listening to what he is telling her.  She is treating him like a user error moron. (shew- poor lady, she is not too bright)... She keeps telling him they do NOT have glitches in their system.  Their system is infallible * she is going to eat those words*
So after he completed some minor trouble shooting to prove his theory and before he handed me back the phone she admitted- they do have a problem, they are NOT infallible and she would be happy to confirm the account if I could just answer a couple of questions..

It is about to get SKETCHY... I am about to prove the not so bright theory by accident!

Here are the questions she chose to ask me-
1. Dad's name inserted here- how old is he?
My response- he is dead
2. Dad's name inserted here again- how old is he?
My response- he is still dead- *crap on a cracker- what is wrong with her?*
3. Dad's name inserted here AGAIN!  how old is he? ( doorknobs have more intelligence)
My response- Do you think you continue to age when you die?  Does the record or whatever you are looking at not say "DEAD".. He is dead!
4. When was the house on blah blah blah built?
My response- I am going to say 90- I don't live there anymore but I did around 92 or so.. and it was standing when I bought it.
 * I passed this one clearly because she moved on to another one- oh goody*
5. What county is the said house located in- and she listed options-
My response- Jefferson- I passed again
6. What month was INSERT EX-HUSBANDS NAME HERE born?
My Response Unedited " you know what - that is my ex-husband! You have asked about my dead dad and ex husband in less than five minutes- This is BS (said it) - I am not transferring large amounts- you will NEVER see an amount over 100 bucks-  my transactions are and would remain around 20$ or 30 dollars.  My husband has been on the phone with you for an  hour- you know he handed me the friggin' phone- CANCEL THE ACCOUNT there is no store on earth worth this .........
I set the phone down and walked off- the husband picked it up as is she said "I am gonna go ahead and confirm this for you"....
SIGH
As you know, I always like to have a lesson when life tosses me a challenge- SO-What have I learned- Nothing- I have learned NOTHING-  I smoked a bunch- but didn't learn a stinkin' thing.  On second thought... perhaps I did- PayPal- That word is an oxymoron- What A "Fine Mess"!  I wonder if she was a "little pregnant" while she was digging up "forgotten memories".  Oh I digress...

Shame Shame

I don't know if it is because I have too much time on my hands (sarcasm), since all my children want to do after school is sit on the couch and read books (a lie - wrapped in extreme sarcasm) but I have found myself doing a little research.  Got to keep using that ol' noggin before it turns to total mush.   What has peaked my curiosity, you ask?   I wanted to know who decided which words are curse words,  so I googled it.  

Here are the findings:

After picking apart Wikipedia and other forums- it is pretty obvious that NO one really knows. Educated guesses are the best I could find- and there is really no need to get into the he said she said.  We do know the oldest traces of human writings include "offensive" words- 

So after spending an excessive amount of time reading "because your mom said so"... I have made my own decision on this topic:

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"

Good Day Folks-

Mommy Said- 2013

Last night I was reading over some old post, feeling a little emotional since Walker was turning 6.  I laughed and felt my heart tug at what was our daily lives with a 3 year old.  While some things change- others remain the same-  This is Classic Walker-  He does NOT miss a thing...


So I keep thinking back to something that happened a few weeks ago and get tickled every time.  It was a Sunday afternoon and everyone had pretty much assumed our normal, lazy positions.  Cade was snoring on the couch, Mackenzie was laying over on the loveseat messing with her IPod & apparently getting her panties out of a literal wad , I was searching my favorite blogs for coupon deals and Walker was enjoying yet another edge of your seat viewing of Spy Kids... - OR so we thought... Here is the conversation:

Walker- Kenzie
Kenz-  implementing the classic "ignore" him move... ( impressive how well she has mastered this skill)
Walker- KENZIE!  - louder- much LOUDER
Kenz- What Walker?
Walker- You gotta pee pee?
Kenz- NO Walker
Walker- You touchin your hinney
Kenz- I am not Walker
Walker-uh huh.. Mommy said if you touch your hinney, you gotta go pee pee...
Kenz-I am not touching my hinney, WALKER
Walker- I sawed you and if you pee pee in your pants you are gonna be in twouble (voice of experience talking right there... he is sharing his knowledge)
Kenz- UGHHHH.... and stomps off. (I couldn't see her face, but I would bet my bottom dollar her eyes were rolling)
Walker- Mommy she had to go pee pee...
Mommy- Thank you for handling this for me Walker

The Tortoise and The Den

Our den is eclectic...once upon a time I actually had the infamous "Dogs Playing Poker" above the mantle.   Because I could... so Why not? We house an aquarium, an air hockey table, and furniture that Cade has owned longer than he has had me.  It is a comfortable room for all of us.  We make pallets and pop popcorn for family movies on rainy weekends.  We fight out our aggression in Wii battles.  It is truly a family room. 

This past weekend, Cade was looking at the old sofa while the kids were tackling each other on top of it.  He pointed out that the leather is threadbare in spots, it has been patched more than once, and over all the entire suit is tattered.  I listened to what he had to say and then pointed to the children that were acting as if they have not had all their shots- WAS that FOAM coming out of Walker's mouth?   I told him I agree 100% but and this is a big BUT- I can not see the point in replacing it at this time.  The kids live in this room and it will drive me batty trying to keep the following from happening:

1. Shoes off of it

2. Food off of it

3. Markers off of it

4.THE KIDS OFF OF IT

I told him to just wait about "oh TEN or Fifteen years should be safe" and then we can make a day of it and  shop till we drop, finding the perfect set.  The kids will be a lot older.  Walker will be driving and Mackenzie will be gone to college. I can look forward to being engulfed by brand new leather- that is soft as butter as I hold my sweet, baby boy- Atticus (dog) and read a book.

Cade looked at me for the longest time and I could not figure out what he was thinking... a few minutes passed and then he said "You know Atticus might not be alive in 10 or so years?"  GASP-  

I had to argue this point and tell him- he would be!  

He walked into the kitchen and with his back turned to me he said " I am going to have to treat this situation like people do TURTLES-  sneak another one in here before you know what happened"...

There are NO words-

Oh Silent Night....

Today's topic snoring-
I think we have all been exposed to someone attempting to suck the ceiling down from the support beams while in a restless slumber.  I also think it is also safe to say it is a miserable existence during the midnight hour for the "victim" of this unconscious crime.

Which brings me to my story...
Over the weekend I had prepared the "best sleeping" arrangements possible as I see it.  I washed all  of the blankets so they were all April Fresh compliments of Downey.  The room was chilled to perfection.  I grabbed my body pillow and wrapped around it.  I placed the "it will have to do" feather pillow under my head  *SEE Pillow  for further details on how my NEW PILLOW will never be anything but second rate- a special "thank you and shout out to the CRIMINAL"

The night started off grand.. silent and so cozy.   I drifted off in a peaceful slumber...

*cranks chainsaw here*... YEP- it appears at some point a lumberjack entered the room and he was busy at work sawing the trees down.   I laid there and took it for a while with great patience- as the minutes ticked away.. I began to sigh loudly.  No response.  I flipped harshly back and forth attempting to hide my ears in the second rate pillow.  No good.   I jerked the covers in hopes it would jar the perpetrator.  Nothing.  I hit the bed with my "little hobbit hands" as the husband LOVINGLY calls them, ahem on the bed.  No dice.  I knew my mind was going to a dangerous, dark place as I cocked back my leg and prepared to kick the plum stew out of him.  Something stopped me... call it a "feeling" but I sat up and then it hit me.
Could it be?  NO WAY-  HOW ON EARTH IS THAT POSSIBLE?   It was the blankty, blank 10 pound dog sucking all the oxygen out of the room.  That is the only explanation- you know, LACK of oxygen- because I was about to become  the judge and jury on the big guy and send down the punishment.  He was innocent.

Good news tho, I got over my guilt quickly enough.. HOW DARE HIM BE ABLE TO SLEEP THROUGH THIS NIGHTMARE!

The Retraction

So if you are a regular reader you know about our latest issue of springing a leak... that then turned into a gully washer.  When I left you last the husband was contemplating the best course of action to take because the main water line breaks out into a T into the lower bathroom and blah blah blah blah it will require cutting a hole in the ceiling. He needed to compile his list in his head for the NO WAY AROUND IT, home improvement store trip.   I knew his patience were running thin so I excused myself to the upper level to prepare for bed minus the use of running water.  

Lapse time- approximately 2 hours or so...

Atticus was a sleep at my feet and I was reading a book.  All of a sudden I hear SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH- Atticus jumps up and barks.  YES- he was cutting a hole in the ceiling.  He gave in- and proceeded to cut.

Lapse Time- 7:00AM


He gets up- and heads to the Depot.  I then see the actual hole he has cut and it is quite small.. very small.. So innocently I ask "WILL your hand fit in that?- I don't think my hand will fit in that"
Clearly- I was not helping by the look of disgust that was flashed my way.  He explained he had decided to keep the hole a modest size so he could then put a light fixture there...
I freely admit that was a pretty good idea- but you have to be able to work on the pipe- hence the hole there to begin with..

Time lapse- 1 hour

The hole is now bigger- and the pipe has been cut and the new one is being measured to fit in its place.  Too Long- cut some more.
He then places his smart mouth wife on the other side of the ladder to hold the old pipe that is pressing on the new pipe and WA-LA-  Teamwork makes the dream work.

He got it!  I am proud of my "Plunger".  He did not give up and he figured it out.  For the most part he kept his cool and he requested that I do something for him in return- He wanted a retraction on my blog.

So here goes-

Dear People that read my nonsense,
I would like to report that my husband is now an efficient plumber or plunger depending on if you are five or not.  He saved our family a large amount of money by not giving up.  He did not get mad at my sassy mouth- very much...   He once again proved that he can fix anything given time.
The groveling wife


THERE!

When It Rains... It Pours!

Murphy's law- Anything that can go wrong will go wrong!

Welcome to my world.  Life is usually one gigantic debacle after another around here- So to keep from sitting in a corner and banging my head- I must laugh!  Today is a perfect example - allow me to share:

The kids were out of school for MLK and the sun was shining. I took them to grab a bite and tootle around town.  We were only gone for a few hours.  The husband was off work and had made it back home from taking his dad to the doctor.  He brought home a 4 pack of yummy cupcakes and then joined the children outside to play basketball.  I thought I would take the time, while it was quiet and clip a few coupons and search the ads.
 Fast forward 15 minutes
The husband comes into the den and looks a bit pale.  He said "come down here and look at this"- so I figure it is worth a looksy and follow suit.  He points out a puddle on the floor and traces the source.  Our main water line!  Oh GOODY!  We have three sources to call- NO ONE CAN COME or they want to stick it to us for holiday pay.  Of course they do.
He turns off the water to the house and I express to the children my concern over how filthy they have become playing outside.  Tonight there will be no shower. Tomorrow is school.  Crap- bottle water bath it is!

I figured we were done until the sun comes up tomorrow so I came back upstairs and started my coupon list again.  Do you see my error there?  I left the husband alone with a plumbing issue that would require him to pull out power tools- and I knew darn good and well- he would NOT be able to resist!  I feel I am 50% accountable for the remainder of this story...

I hear the drill... I ignore the drill.

I continue to hear the drill- I walk downstairs.. "Watcha doin?"... his response- "I figure a plumber will have to make this hole bigger so I am saving on labor"... mmhmmmm

I go back up to continue my clipping-  10 minutes later the door that leads to the basement flings open wildly and it is our five year old- he screams "IT IS RAINING DOWNSTAIRS, Daddy was trying to be a PLUNGER" and then I hear it-  the roar of water hitting the floor.

Now- I could say I was calm when walked to the bathroom and grabbed towels.. but what really happened is I was cussing like a sailor in my head and running like a rabid animal to retrieve any fabric that might soak up water!

When I hit the bottom of the steps and saw my soaking wet husband- I froze.  His comment "I brought you cupcakes"...

to be continued... after he makes on average TWO trips to the home improvement store ;)

Oh It's a Chore...

Some days it seems the list of chores to do around the house are endless, even though I do something around here every single day.  I have set a personal goal to attempt to do a load of laundry every afternoon or I will be stuck listening to the annoying chime of the dryer as it taunts me for several hours the next day.  I have even put a load in at bedtime and GOT UP to move the load to the dryer before I actually fell asleep so I would not have to rewash the following morning.  It is a losing battle.  It will never end.  I must find a way to come to terms with this... hmmm  That said, it is not the worse chore on the list-  I do not mind wiping the dog slobber off the lower windows.  I rather enjoy the swiffer when paired with the ipod.  BUT-

My nemesis is the dish washer.  I do not like the dishwasher.   I get that it is a modern marvel.  I remember my grandmother living most of her entire life without one. She would stand at the sink washing a pile of dishes from the meal she lovingly cooked.  It is a convenience, I get it but I still don't have to like it.  Let me confess how I handle this chore.   It is a NINE step process...

• Step one- open the front
• Step two- peak around the top shelf to assure items are not funked over
• Step three- select certain cups, shake excess water off and stack them on the counter
• Step four- push the said cups in the cabinet and implement the duck and dodge method to keep existing cups in the cupboard from knocking me in the head.
• Step five- feeling lucky, made it without any breakage or bumps- *takes a sip of coffee in satisfaction of this accomplishment
• Step six - pull out the dreaded bottom rack
• Step seven- pick out a few forks and spoons- leave the remaining in the rack because well, I don't have a good answer
• Step eight- pull out the extra large pan and walk around the kitchen holding it- open most cabinets to find that sucker will not fit... 
• Step nine- take pan back to dishwasher and put it back where I found it.

The end- and do not act like I am the only one with this process... ahem :)

No... It's A Knot

Exhibit A

Years ago, when the spouse and I were house hunting we toured too many houses to count.  Nothing worked for us.  I could pick them apart at the seams and I was starting to get discouraged. Then it happened, we walked into "our home".  It spoke to both of us *NO- Not our ghost, they are mute*.  I was able to see "what could be" even though it was drowning in an ocean of mauve and blue.  There were mockingbirds on wallpaper that were "mocking" me.  However, I could see past it and wait for the day we could update her style with one exception... WHITE CARPET!  Who does that?  This is not some converted warehouse loft in an artsy, fartsy city.  It is a home that would be the center of our family.  It would have children and animals running across them carrying leaky, sippy cups.  White Carpet + Small Children = Disaster!  

Fast Forward a few years and attempt to get to the point of this post-

 Hello renovation-  Ok- I have eclectic taste-  I like the old with the new.  That said, putting 100 year old brick pavers that were salvaged from buildings on the floor seemed NORMAL even COOL!  I was right- see exhibit A.  Neat, huh?   Anywho, I have enjoyed these floors.  NO fuss, No muss.  A wet mop and that is it!  Don't cha love - low maintenance?  However, today I am looking at them a little differently.  Walker needs new shoes and he wants some that actually tie.  He does not want velcro.  I like velcro.  Are you with me?  Let me break that down for you- He wants shoes that tie, hence he will need to learn to tie his shoes.  (SIGH)  Have you ever tried to teach a child to tie their shoes?  OH lawd- I have to pull out all the stops and make up the story about the little bunny- that will NOT cooperate with little fingers as it runs around the bush.  BLAH BLAH BLAH!   It is an exhausting exercise!   It will last for what seems FOREVER!  He will get mad and aggravated.  I will get impatient.  I will BANG MY HEAD ON THE LOW MAINTENANCE BRICKS!  They were not around when Mackenzie learned this task-  I had to settle for the wall.  

What is my point?  I fear my COOLNESS is going to kill me!

Stop and Smell the Proverbial Roses

A friend of mine recently blogged about life's simple pleasures.  For her, it was a pretty little soap dispenser that got rid of the muck from bar soap.  I agree- some of the best things life has to offer are right in front of us- but we tend to overlook them while caught up in the day to day chores. We don't appreciate simplicity like we should.  It reminded me of an old post-  One that is as true today, as it was when I originally stuck it out on the internet for everyone to critique.
Today's topic- Books
I love to read.  I always have.  Most of my reading is done at night when my children are snuggled up and in a peaceful slumber.  I have attempted to read on rainy afternoons, but lets face it- when you read the same sentence three times and still do not know what you read, it loses some of its magic.   So I read at night by a  tiny book lamp that attaches to the top of the pages.  I have looked into the fancy new options but there is something wonderful about page turning.  It is what the author originally intended (or this is what I believe) to have the suspense build as the paper turns.  Old fashioned thinking... probably?  A few weeks ago, I stumbled into a used paperback store.  The musty smell was wonderful and identifiable, it was the smell of old books.  You know the smell.  Some may find it distasteful... I like it!   As I strolled the endless selection, I realized I am not one that reads a book more than once.  There are a few exceptions like Twilight (hello- EDWARD) and the Hunger Games Trilogy  ( if you have not enjoyed this syfy edge of your seater- please allow yourself the guilty pleasure of these books) and of course the classics like To Kill A Mockingbird.  Other than the few listed above... I don't reread. So to continue on with my old books admiration trip-  I ended up in the horror/ syfy genre and I picked up Salem's Lot.  Now I read this book years ago... and I remember it stuck with me.  CREEPY-  but a little creepy factor is good now and again.  I took it to the counter and paid my two bucks.
The book laid around on the counter for a while.. I decided a few nights ago, I would give it another whirl.  So I started reading and as I flipped the first few pages I could not help but think..Why are you reading this again?  You know how it ends... what is the point?  As I got more involved in the book, I realized, the amazing author Stephen King... did not mean for his books to be read only once... they are full of details that can easily be overlooked ....and in each detail the author struggled over it to get it right.  It is in the details that take you from your sorrows or stressful lives and emerge you in a place forbidden.  It doesn't matter what type of "read" you prefer... romance, comedy, thrillers... a mix of all three- you escape to a mini vacation.  Let's face it- we all need a mini escape from time to time.  So I encourage you to pick up a book... perhaps one you have read before that is laying in the bottom of a drawer... and enjoy it.  Life is short.. simple pleasures are all around us.

Do you hear what I hear?

So I thought about starting this one with the classic "Once upon a time".  That in my opinion is reserved for fairy tales - this tale is far from that.  It is a true story. I will begin as if we are sitting on the sofa and drinking a glass of tea.

GET THIS... Years ago we had a yellow lab, his name was Cooper.  He was a beautiful dog that stayed bored.  One day he came onto the porch carting a bone hanging out of his mouth.  Now when I say "bone".. I mean big ol' bone.  Not store bought- he dug that sucker up from the yard.  I took it from him and shared his find with my family.  Everyone tried to assure me that our property was once a large farm and it probably was from a cow.  I remember joking around and letting them know I was not 100% on board with that theory- I did not go to medical school, but that looked like a femur. We looked for a hole, hoping we could find closure.  None was found.  It seems the dog went under the backside of the house- through a small opening in the paneling and found it.  UNDER THE HOUSE- did you catch that part?   I eventually put the bone mishap behind me and did not think of it to often.  I mean- Ewwww right?  Cow- yep, going with the old dead cow.

Now reader beware- it is about to get creepy...

When my son was two years old, he woke up frequently at night afraid.  He would point to the same area in our house - the small hallway that leads to the bathroom and cry "there is the old Yady, the old yady scares me, I don't like the old yady"  He had mentioned more than once she carried a stick.  I can only assume he meant a cane.  Again, this was not a one time deal.  It happened a lot.  I would hold him and let him know that he was safe.  That there was no one in the house with us except daddy and sister.    Please know, the entire time I held him - I pierced my eyes into the darkness, looking until they watered.  Trying to see what he saw.  NOTHING.  I saw nothing!  But I do not doubt that he did.  I have heard over the years that the very young and innocent can see things jaded adults can not.  I am a believer.  He is now five.  He has not woke up crying about "her" in over two years.  Did she just go away or has his mind closed off what it now deems impossible?  I have no idea.

Fast forward to the summer to of 2012
Our family was at the beach and the husband got a weird vibe. He decided to hop on his lap top and check the cameras at our house. All of a sudden we hear a crash, something that sounded like a sneeze AND muffled talking over white noise.  His eyes turned into saucers and I freely admit I was freaking out too since we have had a house destroyed in the past. He called the local police department to investigate. We could see the cop shine his light into our house via the cameras and knew he was not taking the call lightly.  He had the dispatcher let us know that everything was locked down tight as one would hope...  BUT the sound continued- At midnight when the automatic air freshener went off at the beach - it clicked- We had called the local PD over pleasant smelling air. Which is classic debacle for this family!  So that explained the crash/ sneeze sound that was repeated but it did NOT explain the voices.  We had not left any tvs on.  No radios were plugged in.  NOTHING should have sounded like voices in a wind tunnel.  There is no answer for that and we have discussed it over and over.

We have the unexplained creaks that most people chalk up to a house settling or the wind.  Most nights I do not get over concerned and attempt not to over think it.  MOST nights- the dog doesn't fidget or bark and sit up with his ears cocked back.  MOST NIGHTS!

It has been brought to my attention more than once and I myself have toyed with the idea of calling some sort of ghostbuster in to do a little investigating.  In the end, however, what will they accomplish?  My ghost do not run around and rip up my good sheets.  They don't scream "BOO" or rattle chains.  I have said "Beatlejuice" three times for giggles.  No Dice.  They seem peaceful- I don't think they mean us any harm.  Does this mean I ain't afraid of no ghost?  ummm NO, that is not what it means.  I ain't afraid of MY ghost.

Happy Hauntings

Passion For Music

Music- it is important to most of us.  A certain song can bring back the best of times and quite possibly the worst.  It can bring a tear to your eye or a dance in your step.  I can listen to Bing Crosby every Christmas and think of my granddaddy with joy in my heart.  Benny and the Jets will send me back to the 70's,  sticking a quarter into the jukebox at the Waffle House.  Funny how that works :) When Mackenzie was a toddler I would only listen to a Barney cd and other childlike songs while we were in the car.  We would pop up and down in our seats to the Wheels on the Bus song because the people "go up and down".  If we were happy and we knew it, you can bet we were clapping our hands.  I was so over protective to any and all outside influences that I could control and keep her away from. She was the first child and I did not want to mess her up. Such a good mommy.  From the years 2002-2007 I did not know a single song that hit the billboard top 100.  Had NO clue.  I was well versed in any and all kids songs.. mind you.
With Walker, the second child, I have loosened up in some areas.  I listen to the radio every time we get into the car.  I like the top 100 songs, an attempt to hang onto my youth?  perhaps- but you can dance to it!  I like to dance and embarrass the kids. I am a pro at this.  Yes, Music is important!  Fast forward that line of thinking and Walker singing to himself.  My first thought was he is so stinking cute and THEN I REALIZED WHAT HE WAS SINGING!  *dramatic pause inserted here for my own health purposes- shallow breathing*  He said "I have a passion in my pants - I am sexy and I know it"!  GASP, GASP oh hell... GASP!  Good mommy gone!  What have a I learned..well, that the Wheels on the Bus still go round and round when my car wheels go round and round from this day forward.  Crap on Cracker Folks, Crap on a Cracker!

WTFudge?

You know those days when around every turn you find yourself saying " WTF"... fudge for those who have morals.  Today, not so much- I used the real Mccoy- A LOT- under my breath, mind you- but I still said it.

Let's review what would make a wholesome mommy like myself resort to such foul language. 

 *Crickets*

1.) To spoil the rotten dog just a little more I purchased him a PLUSH, comfy pillow to rest on-  He pee'd on it not once but twice.  WTF?

2.)Walker asked me again what "hot" means.. I told him it could mean your sweaty or it could mean you think someone is pretty.   You know, I rather him ask me than learn from someone else.  Right or Wrong, that is what I told him.  He said "so and so is HOT then"... he is four- WTF?

3.)Walker fed the fish- most of the container.  Seems Buzz the Beta was hungry.  WTF?

4.)Since it has been such a beautiful day, I opened the kitchen window up WIDE for the breeze and allow some fresh air into the house.  As daylight ended.. a moth found its way into the house.  My big one has never squealed so loud.  I took this child to see the Jonas Brothers- it does not compare to the racket she was making over the ugly butterfly.  It sounded like the house was under attack by a middle school.  So to assist, Walker put on his rain boots, tracked the moth down, cornered it.. and squish.  The ten year old was not embarrassed by this chain of events.  WTF?

5.)  The last profanity does not effect me one way or the other.. but it made me think it!  Every time I talk to my best friend she is eating SOMETHING and I talk to her a lot most days.  Hollow leg?  WTF?

Should I have put pen to paper so to speak ?  I needed the therapy, so what the hell!

Eventful... I Will Give It that

So the month of December never seems to disappoint... It brings out the best and the worst of people.. Today I will concentrate on the worst because I have PMS and it is my blog.  Suck it up buttercup- I am going to vent!
First on my list of gripes is the fact that Mackenzie has figured out the perpetual lie of Santa and the dumb Elf.  I have held my breath since November in hopes I could squeeze one more year of the yummy goodness that makes things magical in little people's eyes.  I know it is over played.. but this has truly been an Epic Fail.  Need proof?  Allow me to throw myself under the bus with a little something I like to call exhibit A.
My sleeping habits leave a lot to be desired most of the time, so every now and then I cave and pop a sleeping beauty pill ** COMMENTS TO YOURSELVES-I have warned each of you that I have PMS**- anyways most nights I get up out of bed and make the Elf do something bad when I know for SURE that the kids are asleep. MOST NIGHTS- but apparently not on a "Sleeping Beauty" night- I forgot.  Fast forward to morning and Mackenzie states "the elf is on the reindeer"..as I stand by the coffee pot trying to figure out if the daddy remembered ,I am afraid to turn around and look at her so I say *always on my toes- rolls eyes* "WOW- that is neat!".   A few hours pass and she strolls into the kitchen and leans over the island on her elbows and says "Who was suppose to make the elf do something?  You or Daddy?"  Now I ask all of you parents- how would you have handled this?  I took a deep breath because hyperventilating was a serious option at this point and said "me".   She stood up and said "THAT IS WHAT I THOUGHT!"  Conversation over, she walks out and leaves the deer in headlights still standing in the kitchen trying to recuperate and that is not the worst of it...
Now Santa is in serious jeopardy- and before I go any further I would like to publicly thank the little stool pigeons at school -that are singing like a canary to my seemingly innocent ten year old and squashing the magic like gum to a shoe, in an over packed parking lot of angry shoppers looking for killer deal on black Friday.  I now have to address an email I got from her wanting to know the "truth" about the jolly old guy.  She knows - I know she knows- She knows I know she knows- but saying "no- it was mom and dad- sorry" seems as hard as chewing on old leather.  So the defendant rest... Exhibit A.

Second is my husband actually tracks when I will be devoured by PMS on his blackberry.

I could probably come up with a few more items like my husband and my best friend moving my new car to make me think it was stolen, or my four year old telling me he is ashamed of me when I pull into car line with my music to loud, seems this is "unacceptable".  Blah Blah Blah..
Eventful.. and only day 15 :)

All Aboard.. The Train Of Thought

You know that kid that has a lot to say... a million questions... or just idle chatter when nothing is on his mind?  Well, that is my Walker.  I would love to say this is a "phase" he is going through but I am afraid it is not.  Walker is the "second" child and as most moms know this is the kid you do not push to  do anything... and of course, this is the kid that was a head of all the benchmarks in childhood.  He was taking steps on teeny, tiny feet well before his first birthday and running when he turned one.  My little over achiever was making sentences when other children were learning "words" as commands.  He picked up the nic name "Walker Talker" as a young toddler.  That said, he has fine tuned this social skill to a perfect art.   If his feet are moving, well you can bet his mouth is too.  SKILL- I tell ya!

Our conversations can cover anything from "we live on the planet EARF", fossils are what dinosaurs turned into and he wished he could pet one,  He sure does love cream cheese and oatmeal cookies but sister doesn't, they are different- everybody is different...he wonders "why"... blah blah blah.. infact, as I type this and have zero train of thought he is  now concerned about the skin on his hands that feels kinda "weird" and it is killing him.. ahem... ZERO TRAIN OF THOUGHT.. but I have learned I can get by most days without the train.. MOST DAYS!

In an effort, to keep my sanity on the days I need to catch the train, I have found that "tuning" him out works sometimes.  I love that he is inquisitive and NEEDS to know that very second whatever is on his mind.  JUST some days.. it is a bit much.  He has learned the "glass eyed" look and will pipe up and octave or two louder and say " I asked you a question- rude!" when he does not get a timely response.  Yes, he is a pro at his skill.   I answer what ever he needs to know and he continues on with his dissertation.  I will tell him to "hush" or "be quiet", I often throw in a "shhhhhhh baby" - it hardly ever works because of his dire need to know now mindset.

All that said, last week was a particularly busy day for his mouth and finally I broke and told him to "SHUUUUUTTTTT UPPPPP".   Now I am not proud of saying this to him but I too, am human.  He paused for a brief 10 seconds and gathered his composure then with doughy eyes and the most precious sing song voice he said " uh oh -Somebody's gonna get a frownin face"...  *SIGH*  Can't win- his mouth is a weapon and either cracks me up so I lose my composure as the authority figure around here.. ahem... or it teaches me a lesson.  What is the lesson you ask?  I will always be the caboose :)

Vintage

The word "Vintage" gets thrown around a lot these days.  People use it when referring to high dollar couture, fabulous furniture, perfect cars, lovely handbags and kick em' ass shoes.  I myself, love the look of older things and appreciate them.  HOWEVER, I was toodlin' around the mall a week or so ago and I saw a t-shirt.  It read "1971 VINTAGE"... WHAT? *thoughts to self- "ok, no need to panic- let me get out my spectacles and make sure I am reading this right" - YEP- reading it right*   Dude, that is the year I was born!  Does that make me "vintage"?   sigh...
Let's review possible incidents that would "throw" me in the hurdles of midlife aka make me vintage-
I will indeed be forty in less than two calendar months.  Forty, it comes fast and she is an evil witch.  You may feel twenty mentally, you may dance to Lady Gaga as you swiffer, you may enjoy the latest fashions- but the body knows different.  Gravity is cruel- no further explanation is needed on this point.  Dinners start to migrate earlier.. 4:00 seems perfectly reasonable to me- so I can lay down by 7:30 or so and rest my bones.  When people call at 8:30, I immediately think "Do they know what time it is?, better be important".  You think you have been there, done that- only the details are impossible to remember.  Life is funny that way.  I like the fact that the biggest joke of all is that my dearest friends have entered the "oh NO zone".. a little earlier than I have and have had the opportunity to find out just which vitamins, support hose and unmentionables are suitable for a woman of age.  So as the days pass and I become weak in the knees- I think I will toss out the welcome mat and embrace the changes that life brings. I feel blessed and I will work in all the other acronyms I previously used to describe the wonder of "Vintage".  Yes, if we are lucky, we will all eventually be a fabulous, lovely, kick em' ass "Vintage" glasses wearing, hair dying, vitamin popping, 60 minutes watching work of art.
Have a great day- whipper snappers!

The Collins Report

So it has been a while since I have grabbed a chair and let thoughts flow... and since my last posting A LOT has happened.  Let's break it down...
Walker has been enrolled in Tee-Ball.  It is a HUGE deal around here... since according to him it is one step from being a Pro Player.  I let him believe this.. who am I to sqwash a Four year old's dream... One of my oldest friend's husband is the coach so Walker is familiar with him... but he still has his questions re: Mr. Evan's ability to take him forward in his career.  One day we were headed to preschool and we were chatting about ball.. he asked " So mom, Is "Eban" the real coach or is he the Vampire?" *** Those closest to me know I have a sick fascination with the Undead.. this comment alone made me wonder if my strange addiction could have seeped into the womb with its friends Sweet Tea and Potatos*** I shrugged off my inner commentary to answer his question " Walker, Evan is the Coach- he is not the UMPIRE"- sigh- I am pretty sure that is what he meant to say and it got lost in his four year old vocabulary.
Yes, I said Four.  Little dude had a birthday much to my chagrin.  Things seem the same except on his actual birthday he needed to report the fact that he can now run a little faster.  Well, Sure!  The all important "run-faster" milestone has been reached- take that Growth Charts!  (ahem- 7th percentile in height- bless him)

Today Kenzie and I celebrated our 9th year together- Adoption is a such a blessing.  That said-Mackenzie and I have had a fantastic day playing hooky!  We have shopped till we dropped at the stores of her choice.  When we needed more fuel, we stopped and ate our way thru Mexico or so it seemed when the dishes were bare!  It is impressive the amount of chips and salsa we can consume in one sitting.  I don't write often about my priss because she is almost ten and I tend to embarrass her... but today I will make an exception because she is just too fabulous not to include in the report.  While we were tootlin' around and bonding over girl time, I decided to make sure she understood how awful smoking is and that if I ever see her with a cigarette I will kill her faster than the smokes.  I explained it is filthy,expensive and dangerous.  It is something I am not proud of but I am addicted.  I told her it all started when I was with an ex-boyfriend in high school.  I thought I was cool.   Here is the short of the long:
Mackenzie- "YOU had a boyfriend?"
Me- ( while thinking WTH?)  "Yes- I had a boyfriend.. more than one but who is counting"
Kenz- "more than ONE?"
Me- " Well Sure"
Kenz- " Before you and daddy got married- was he your boyfriend?"
Me-  " Of course- you have to date before you get married unless you want me to arrange something for you"
Kenz- Blank stare
Me- " I am kidding- you have to date and have boyfriends before you fall in love and get married"
Kenz- "I thought a boy just said  let's get married"
Me-  "Kenzie, your sense of romance is only rivaled by your dads"
Kenz- Blank stare returns
Me- "Well, would you look at the clock.. time to get brother"
*** What would really make her brains flip inside out is IF she knew the ex-boyfriend I was talking about turned into my EX- husband-  decided to let that skeleton stay hidden for another day -***
Did I mention I love spending time with my girl... she is fantastic and entertaining to a fault.

Since the post is growing quickly... I will save the updates of the adults in this household for another day... but never fear.. we have been pretty busy too! What with Valentines and a new property in the gulf... the fiasco's just keep coming...

Have a pleasant evening!  Be Safe

Unmentionables

So over the past month or so I have been on a quest to find the ultimate "unmentionable".... I have found as 29 and holding approaches,.. I need a super suit. (Girls- you know this is a correct statement)   This perfect undergarment must not only lift and look natural... It must lift, look natural, not produce back fat, be smooth under t-shirts, create a perfect silhouette  (As much as I do enjoy Madonna- a few of her unmentionables would put your eyes out- it is a safety concern) keep cleavage intact and out of my throat,  be bounce free, comfort is of the upmost importance and NOT look like an old lady let me borrow hers. I would also like it to be economical, because if such a super suit existed.. the ones in the drawer would have to be thrown away. It is a lot to ask of a small undergarment.  But I have no shame in asking it- see a need- someone fill a need!  I am pretty sure no such thing exist.. but it should.  We can send a man to the moon, create medicine in a petri dish, wash dishes in an electrical cube, and track a package across the world with a few clips on a keyboard... why can't we create an unmentionable that works?  So I call on you Playtex, Bali, Victoria- heck I would even consider you Fredrick... create something that works.  Once you have a solution- prove it.. prove it with models that have real oobies and not the ones that defy gravity at the age of 90... It is the ultimate challenge-  One that 50% of the population would benefit from (a huh- it is that SERIOUS)....Game On!