One......Two......

Three....JUMP!

The Casseroles Guess That Cleavage Game

Our Casserole gathering was held at Fiesta Pie’s abode this month, rather than a dinner out surrounded by strangers and driving to a loud dance club with over-priced cocktails (although we enjoy those kind of evenings too). The original intent was to watch movies, but I knew going in that once we all sat down at a table with some wine and snacks it would be hours before we stopped chatting long enough to do anything.

I had been craving some good bread, wine and cheese in recent weeks so after the Red Shoe Run on Saturday I took the opportunity while in The City to stop by Panera Bread. I picked up their lovely Asiago Cheese Loaf and Rosemary & Onion Foccia. I’m lucky they don’t have one of these delightful establishments in my Small Smug Town, or I would weigh considerably more. I stopped by the market and picked up some apples, Smoked Gouda, Smoked Swiss, Herbed Havarti and Sutter Home White Zinfandel (all my favorites). It was a feast of delicious proportions.

Following some good conversation, a few bouts of unexpected tears and several bottles of wine, we found ourselves restless and in need for something a little crazy to occur. Green Bean graced my skin with some of her original art as seen below. (I’ve been showering for days and the remnants are still apparent, by the way.)

At this point I passed my camera around the table and asked everyone to take a self-portrait; you’ll see the results below. These always turn out to be the funniest (and sometimes worst) pictures. Then, and for the life of me I can’t remember who, someone took a picture of their cleavage. What happened then you ask? Well, in good Casserole and sisterly fashion we all decide to follow suit. These shots have inspired me to create “The Casseroles Guess That Cleavage” game. I attempted to hide our eyes in an effort to protect the innocent (yeah...right).

By the way, to the girl in the red bra (you know who you are)…

nice rack.

Things That Annoy Me…About Me

I can take a joke too far and offend someone I didn’t intend too. Sometimes I wish I knew when to stop.

Suddenly singing songs that relate to random things those around me say. (This is especially bad at work for some reason). Sometimes I wish I would shut up.

I don’t take a joke far enough and my intention to offend someone isn’t realized. Sometimes I wish people weren’t so oblivious when I’m trying to make fun of them.

When I drink too much, I seem to endlessly declare that I will be having sex as if everyone in the room with me needs or wants to know. Sometimes I wish I was more discreet.

I have a really hard time letting things go and moving on. You know I am finally able to when I permanently delete all traces of someone from my PC, no longer allowing me to dwell in the past. Sometimes I wish I chose to move on sooner.

Once I let go, I don’t go back. The Big B could call me today and apologize until the cows came home and I would wish her well and request she not call me ever again. Mrs. Blahzeeblah has always has told me that one of my less desirable character traits is my stubbornness. Sometimes I wish I was more forgiving.

The big ass mole to the left of my nose. Sometimes I wish I would get it hacked off my face.

My inability to keep my hands still for any length of time and relating need to tear things into tiny pieces. Sometimes I wish I had more control.

My insatiable need to present an image to those around me. Sometimes I wish I didn’t want to control as much.

My lack of ambition when it comes to exercise. Sometimes I wish my health was higher on the priority list (along with my cottage cheese ass and dunlap stomach).

Victory: My 100th Post

This past Saturday Sister Stephanie and I participated in the 3rd Annual Red Shoe Run for Donor Awareness, a competitive 5K founded in the honor of Carrie Jane Smith who became a tissue and cornea donor four years ago at the age of 28. Carrie was the daughter of Bobbi, a long-time close family friend who cares for the Tot children at my employer’s Sick Bay (daycare for ill children). She often competed in 5K's and marathons and had a love of red shoes. Because of the donation of Carrie’s corneas an Arizona woman can see today.


Now you may be thinking, TaterTot competitive? Not really with others, only with myself. Jennie run a 5K, or evn 50 feet for that matter? Okay, I didn’t intend to “run” it…I preferred to call it the Red Shoe Walk Really Fast. I had only two goals going in; not to finish last and to raise a minimum of $65 in donations.

Goal One: Don’t Finish Last
I started at a slow and steady jog. The majority of the runners pulled away from me quickly. Sister Stephanie and I didn’t even stand next to each other to begin; I didn’t want to feel pressure to keep up with her, or her feel pressure to hold back for me. Here I am jogging along for a few minutes, when my shins start burning. I decide it’s a pain I can live with, so I keep going. Jogging, jogging, jogging. Wow. Wait a minute. I’m still jogging. It may be slow, but this definitely qualifies as a jog. Down a hill, still jogging. Shit, now I have to go up the hill. Still jogging. I begin to see the front runners coming towards me at this point, having turned the first corner and lopping back. Suddenly I see it, the one mile marker. Am I still jogging? Hell yes I am. Sunlight appears from the heavens, choirs of angels begin singing “Hallelujah” as I run past the sign and the guy with the stopwatch tell me “14 minutes, good job, keep it up”. My arms go up in celebration and I feel a lump form in my throat and my eyes begin to fill. The stopwatch guy looks at me bewildered, I’m sure he was thinking, “what in the hell is she so happy for, the rest of the runners passed here ages ago.”

I JOGGED ONE MILE! WITHOUT STOPPING!

For me this is unheard of, last occurring in my freshman year of high school (19 years ago). For those of you who don’t know me, or know my physical shape let me give you a heads up; six months ago I weighed an impressive 237 pounds and wore a snug size 22. Some hard work has brought me to 193 and a size 18, but I am not in what would be considered even good physical shape by any means. I gave myself permission to transition into a face paced walk at this point, as my shins begin to feel as if they will crumble beneath me at any moment. Just before reaching the 2 mile marker, the course passed by the finish line and I can see Sister Stephanie in her hot pink ear warmer and fire engine red cheeks approaching. She completed the race in 28 minutes, coming in second place for her age group and two minutes faster than her time last year. I flag her down and she walks the last mile and half with me, on the verge of puking the entire time from her finish line sprint. She convinces me to jog the last section, once the finish line comes back into sight. I complete my first 5K in 50 minutes 35 seconds. I did not finish last. Victory.

Goal Two: Raise $65 in Donations
I raised $79. This amount seems miniscule compared to the thousands of dollars others boast to have raised for their chosen charities, but for me it was acceptable. I suck at asking friends/family for money, good cause or not. It costs $65 for the necessary testing to add one person to the Bone Marrow Donor List, so my reasoning was if I can raise enough money to add one person it was worth it. Victory.

That was my Saturday morning. It may not seem very monumental to some, but to me it was a triumph. Hopefully the first of many.

Side Note: I am still walking funny today, my leg muscles having not yet recovered.

Coming Soon: The Casseroles “Guess That Cleavage” Contest

Stupid Is as Stupid Does

Things about the state I live in, I am embarrassed to admit I couldn’t have told you before I Googled them for this post:

• The Governor is Rob R. Blagojevich
• The US Representative for my district is Donald A. Manzullo
• The US Senators are Barack Obama and Richard J. Durbin
• The Secretary of State is Jesse White
• State Flower is the Purple Violet Viola
• State Bird is the Cardinal (we share this distinction with 6 other states)
• State Tree is the White Oak
• State Animal is the Deer
• State Snack is Popcorn (I'm not really embarrassed about this one, I just thought it was interesting)
• We are known as The Prairie State (yes, spell-check corrected my first attempt at prairie)
• We were the 21st state to be admitted in the Union (on December 3, 1818) signified on our state quarter by the 21 stars bordering the coin

The Bombadee's are lowering their heads in disgust right now.

Call Me Oscar...

Feeling a bit crunchy today.

Easily irritated.

Beware.

Random Things I Read on the Internet Today That Caught My Attention

“Three Arrested, Man Shot in 'Baby Shower Gone Bad - The argument, over whether the woman let their 5-year-old daughter drink beer, escalated and drew in two other people.”

“Lazy Mole Rats Serve Their Queens Through Sex”

"I didn't want to divorce him, I just couldn't fix him."

"Sometimes, I just felt worthless. I needed men in my life to validate me and make me feel like I was loved."

“If I do engage in any sexual activity with Flavor Flav or any other Participants or otherwise, I do so entirely at my own risk, and understand and acknowledge that the risk of engaging in such activity includes, among other things, the risk of contracting any type of sexually transmitted disease, including, without limitation, HIV/AIDS, gonorrhea, herpes, syphilis, pelvic inflammatory disease (PID), chlamydia, scabies (crabs), hepatitis, genital warts, etc.”

“And if you're telling yourself, 'Can I turn this into a relationship?' You're loving dumb. He asks her why she can't tell him no. 'I guess I just have hope,' Jeannie says. 'I keep thinking one day he's going to get it.' 'Aren't you settling too cheap?' Dr. Phil asks. 'You don't spell desperate H-O-P-E.'"

"Is it possible that you're mourning the loss of the girl you wish she had been, instead of the girl she really was?"

“I remember thinking, I’ve got to figure this out. What’s normal? Am I normal? Who’s to say what’s normal? I didn’t understand what ’normal’ is. It still doesn’t make sense.”

“I have two identities. Two lives almost. Over the past year they cropped up. Both are very much ‘me’ and not some fantasy land I live in, but I cant help but feel the effects of both existing.”

All I"ve Got...

Sorry I haven’t been posting lately. Life is moving fast and I am having trouble keeping up. Last night at the BlahZeeBlah’s I talked about all of the post ideas I’ve had lately, and even prepared for, but have never actually made it to my blog. There has to be some old saying about intentions that would be appropriate here, but I’m too exhausted to Google for it.

My parental units are finally moved in; all dwellings sold and bought, wrapped up with a nice little bow. I took Friday off work to finish the painting. Who knew some white trim would take 7 1/2 friggin’ hours, Sister Stephanie and I sure as hell didn’t. By Friday at 5:30 p.m. I had begun to daydream of ways to torture anyone who has the balls to ask me to paint anything ever again. Especially the color red. Saturday was spent moving in all of their stuff and Sunday I found myself unpacking and shopping for the appropriate curtains to hang in a red room (turns out white Battenburg Lace).

Needless to say, I haven’t even sat at a computer since I left work on Thursday. This morning I have been spending more time than my employer would prefer trying to catch up on some blogs, news, guilty pleasures and emails. Turns out I missed some good, some bad and some ugly:

• OK – I’m pissed I can’t see your movies from work.
• Finally! You shouldn’t make your readers wait so long for another post. Inquiring minds want to know.
• I always enjoy some toilet humor.
• This one made me laugh out loud.
• What can I say about this blog? Are you kidding me?
• Her boobs have gotten even huger with pregnancy!
• I need more time for this one, only had time to glance.
• 579 days, 22 hours, 18 minutes to go.
• I’ll be canceling my moving plans now.

Bombadee and I were just discussing our favorite Shel Silverstein poems last night and after reading Fussy’s poem post this morning I have decided to share mine:

Snowball

I made myself a snowball

As perfect as could be.

I thought I'd keep it as a pet

And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas

And a pillow for its head.

Then last night it ran away,

But first it wet the bed.

- Shel Silverstein

That’s all I have…for now.

Poop Water: Mimi Saves the Day

Disclaimer: Please note although "poop water" is referred to several times in the story below, at no times was there actual poop visualized in the water or on my floor. My daughter just refers to all water associated with toilets as such.

Less than five minutes from my house last night when the cell phone rings.

Doody: Mommy?
Me: Hi babe.
Doody: I think we may have a bit of a problem here.
Me: What’s that?
Doody: The toilet got plugged up and water is all over the floor.
Me: Okay. Is water still pouring on the floor?

Doody (yelling to sister in bathroom): Emi…is water still going on the floor?
Mimi: (yelling back in obvious distress): YES!

Doody: She said yes.
Me: I want you to take the phone into the bathroom and listen carefully to what I want you to do. Do you see the big lid on the back of the toilet?
Doody: The one with the basket on it?
Me: Yes, that’s it. Put the phone down and carefully take that off with your sister, be careful it’s heavy. Let me know when that’s done.

Doody: Emi, help me lift this up. Be careful it’s heavy.
Mimi: You get on that side.
Doody: No, you get on that side.
Mimi: It’s all wet over there with poop water.
Doody: EMI….JUST DO IT!
Mimi: AGGGGGHHHHH!

Doody: Okay Mommy, it’s off.
Me: Do you see the big ball on a metal rod?
Doody: Yes.
Me: Lift that up.

Doody: Emi, lift up this.
Mimi: No, it’s all wet in there.
Doody: EMI!
Mimi: AGGGGGHHHHHH!

Me: Did the water stop?
Doody: Yes.
Me: Hold it up until I get home, I’ll be there in two minutes. Stay in the bathroom with Emi.
Doody: Okay.

I arrive home a few minutes later to find Doody sitting on the couch watching for me out the front window, jumping up and down as I pull into the driveway. As I approached my bathroom with apprehension, there is Mimi holding up the thingymabob in the toilet with the MOST disgusted look I have ever seen on her face.

I cleaned up the bathroom (there was very little water on the floor compared to what I was expecting) and instructed both of my girls how to turn the water off on the toilet should this ever happen again and on the importance of teamwork.

Even if there is poop water on the floor.

Easy Like Sunday Mornin': Part III

Quick update: Took 9 (yes, NINE) hours to prep and paint three rooms yesterday. Whole body aching today. Want some friendly advice? Avoid choosing red as a wall color unless you enjoy applying 7,452,531 coats.

Julliard, Here We Come

These are truly the most anticipated events of my entire year...

Tuesday night was The 12th Annual Small Town School Band Extravaganza. Bands from fifth grade, sixth grade, Junior High and High School all performed. This was our first time attending with our fifth grader and had no idea what crowd to expect. It was obvious everyone else in the entire town did; when we arrived (30 minutes early) we were limited to the nose-bleed seats. Make mental note for next year, plan on heading to Small Town Extravaganza the week prior for front row seating.

Our Doody is a flutist. The performance began with all of the bands playing the Star Spangled Banner. The fifth grade band followed with Beethoven's Ninth, Crazy Cat and King Arthur's Coronation March. After each of the other groups performed three songs, the entire group convened once again to end the show with a boisterous presentation of Ode to Joy.

It was awesome and once again, I was bursting at the seams. I am usually not a weepy person, with the exception of certain films and talk of my Uncle David, but whenever my kids perform in anything I get seriously choked up.

Dough-Dough's biggest fan.

Easy Like Sunday Mornin’: Part II

Can anything ever be easy? No.

We actually have a date we are moving my parental units! Well, two, actually. All of the issues with their financing have forced them to close on their new house the same day as the cabin, March 31st. I realize this is the norm for most folks, but for us it sucks. First of all when they close on the cabin it, and the barn, have to be empty. This is a lot of stuff, to say the least. They already have a storage unit filled to the brink with the furniture they weeded out when they put the cabin on the market. Traditionally, you cannot move into your new home, or paint and carpet, until you’ve actually purchased it. We cannot empty the cabin and barn, close on the cabin, close on the new house, paint new house, carpet new house and move everything into new house on the same day. Impossible.

So here’s the plan my parents were able to negotiate with the sellers of their new house. This weekend, we are moving all (or most) of their belongings into their new home’s three car garage. We are painting this Sunday. Carpet is being measured and ordered this week, to be installed next week. We will move all of their stuff from the garage into the house on the following Saturday, after they officially close.

They were given keys to the house and garage yesterday and we went over to measure windows for curtains and finalize paint colors. My mother’s face indicated trepidation. Their new house isn’t as big as the cabin, and she will be forced to scale down on the number of antiques to display (you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how many). I have tried my best to help out, by offering to take a few off her hands. She can always visit them at my house. Right now, in the cabin, they have on the large “dead wall” as I call it, three deer heads, one entire deer skin and eleven sets of mounted antlers. These will obviously not fit in their new, smaller, more traditional home. I think it is making her a bit sad. The next two weeks will be tough, all around.

Side Note: If any of my readers are interested in a set of deer antlers or skulls in a variety of mounts, I may be able to make you a deal.

Second Side Note: My Friday and Saturday night events will not be altered by the new moving, painting plan. Friday isn't affected at all and Saturday we've already warned my parents we're leaving at a certain time. You're both stuck with me now.

Third Side Note: I hope nice black slacks paired with a cream colored lace top and shoes/jewelry yet to be determined are dressy enough for the gala. Nice looking skirts/dresses were elusive to me during my shopping spree this weekend. Mr. Tot will be wearing a tie, at least.

We Are the Red and White of...

Last night was one of my favorite evenings of every year; Fine Arts Night at my daughters’ grade school. Mimi is in 3rd grade and her class performed several songs from music class. Their music teacher has to be one of the most enthusiastic women I have ever seen. It is very apparent that she loves her job and adores our children; she is often brought to tears by their performances. You know how when you see a large cast of 9 year-olds singing songs there is inevitably the wise-ass boys who stand with scowls on their faces, arms crossed as their parents mouth across the gymnasium, “SMILE AND SING”. Not for this teacher. I am not exaggerating when I state every kid up there was singing their hearts out, doing the silly arm movements and wide-eyed expressions. It was awesome. They begin every performance with the Star Spangled Banner and end it with The Small Town Fight Song.

Doody’s class, 5th grade, didn’t perform musically last night, but she did get to show off some of her art projects. This quarter they worked on African masks. I was able to pick hers out quickly. Next week she will be performing at the Spring Band concert, she plays the flute.

Mimi’s clay project was the biggest one on the table; it’s a gargoyle. I can’t wait to get this one home to add to my collection, proudly displayed in our living room.

Looking at these pictures of my girls I feel so incredibly proud of the magnificent, bright and creative young ladies they are becoming (and slightly sad for the little girls I am beginning to see fade away).

Just so SugarLips doesn't feel left out, here is a pic of him creating some art of his own...

Easy Like Sunday Mornin'

Can anything ever be easy?

My parents are moving. The buying and selling of homes for them has been a complete nightmare from day one. I will spare you all the details, but here are some highlights from the past nine months.

• We spend six weeks and they spend $8,000 getting their log cabin with two barns, two corrals, one shed and 8+ wooded acres ready. They put it on the market.
• My parents make an offer with a contingency on a great house. Their cabin still had no offers. They lost the great house to someone else.
• My parents make an offer with a contingency on another great house. Their cabin still had no offers. They lost the great house to someone else.
• Their cabin has an offer! The people are from Arizona and aren’t planning on moving to the Midwest for 6 months. They drag their feet. Closing dates change. Survey’s are requested. Closing dates change again. Earnest money is not sent. Closing dates change again.
• Cabin has showing after showing. Cleaning constantly. No more offers.
• My parents make an offer with a contingency on another great house. Their cabin has an offer, but no closing date. They lose great house after contract expires.
• My parents make an offer with contingency on another great house. Sellers won’t accept a contingency. They lose great house.
• My parents make an offer with contingency on another great house. Sellers won’t accept a contingency. They lose great house.
• My parents make an offer with no contingency on another great house. They will carry two mortgages if they have to. Closing on their new house scheduled for 3/17/06!
• Another offer on the cabin! A lawyer is now involved and tells Arizona people since their earnest money wasn’t sent, they broke contract. They lose cabin. New buyers have a contingency but it’s only for 30 days. Their condo sells quickly. This is going to happen!
• Packing, packing, packing. Every weekend.
• Cabin buyer’s bank has cabin appraised for loan and appraises value for $20,000 less than offer ($20,000 less than appraisal my parents had done 18 months ago). My parents pay for another appraisal that comes in $5,000 more than offer. Excitement sets in. Buyers call and say they want to change offer to less money due to low appraisal ($7,500 less to be exact). WHAT? My parents tell them they will drop original offer $3,000 only. They accept. Closing on cabin set for 3/31/06.

Will this really happen?

• Closing on parents new house scheduled for 1:30 p.m. on Friday, 3/17/06. New carpet for upstairs scheduled to be installed on Saturday morning while we load trucks at cabin. Sister Stephanie and I plan on painting three bedrooms Friday night, before carpet installed.

Will this really happen?

• My parents get a call last night. There is a snag in their loan for new house; will have to postpone closing a week, maybe two. Painting rescheduled. Carpeting rescheduled. The 15 people all planning to help with move this weekend are called and informed.

This has been such a horrible experience. On top of all of this, I had plans next Friday AND next Saturday night. I don’t want to reschedule them, but what do I do? Will the closing even happen? What if I move my plans back a week and the closing is moved again?

Don’t these people know I don’t tolerate drama very well?

The Harrowing Tale of Blackjack and the Tornado

The phone call came in at 8:35 p.m. last night. “Tornado, heading towards sister town may hit us”.

It had started raining over an hour ago but we thought nothing of it, kept playing cards, trying to grasp the bevy of rules being shared on how to play smart Blackjack. Going through my mind over and over again:

• 2’s & 3’s to 3: If the dealer is showing a 2 or 3, hit until you have at least 13, then stay.
• Double Down’s: If the dealer is showing 4, 5, or 6 double down 7, 8, 9 or 10. Always double down on 11.
• Splits: Never split an “F”; four, five or face. Always split 8’s, as long as the dealer isn’t showing a 9 or 10.
• 16: Sixteen never wins. Unless the dealer is showing a 4, 5 or 6 ALWAYS hit.
• Insurance: NEVER buy insurance unless you just bet every dime in your arsenal and don’t have a way home if you lose. Side Note: if you ever find yourself in this situation, here is the link to GA.

I'm sure there are more, but this is all I can recall this morning. Mr. Bombadee was winning, his betting strategy increasing his stack by leaps and bounds. After two winning hands in a row, increase your bet by half, continue with each subsequent win. After a loss, go back to your original bet and work you way back up. Lose three in a row, move to a new table. I quickly came to the conclusion that when we arrive in Vegas, my best gambling approach may be to just hand him all of my money and wait for my payout. To his credit, he was very patient as I kept calling to hit my 13 when the dealer was showing a 6. That was my typical hand all evening; 13. We started considering side bets on whether or not TaterTot would be dealt ANOTHER 13. I also believe I was the only player to not be blessed with a Blackjack all evening. My girls joined the fun and it was apparent to all that my nine-year-old daughter Mimi is a natural (good news?). Bombadee’s dream to be a casino dealer was obvious when she would say things like “Good luck with your Ace sir” and “Player showing a soft 17”.

Hard, soft, splits, double downs, insurance, comps, strategy, push, my head is spinning and knowledge is overflowing my brain, but I love it. I get more excited with each passing moment. Maybe this time, I won’t get so anxious and intimidated – I may actually sit down at a table and not feel like an arse the entire time.

We begin to wrap up our evening of good food and great friends. Mrs. BlahZeeBlah and Judo Boy left over an hour ago, hoping to get some precious time with Mr. BlahZeeBlah who had to miss the festivities due to work. Doody and Mimi have school tomorrow, LaLa and SugarLips are still going full force. The Bombadee’s are down in the driveway, about to head out when the phone rings. Mr. Tot hollers down, “Tornado, come back in”. Bombadee wonders why he is yelling at her about tomatoes. After a quick clarification, they come back in and we turn on the news. Tornado Warning, our area until 9:15 p.m. It’s still raining hard and Bombadee notes how it would stop if a tornado was close. My girls are nervous and keep asking if we should head to the basement. No, not yet (besides, my basement is a horrible, embarrassing mess and the thought of my friends going down there gives me more anxiety than an impending tornado). About 15 minutes later, we notice it stops raining, but the big red and fuscia spot on the weather channel is right on top of us. That’s odd. Then we hear it. THE TORNADO SIREN. Eyes widen, my girls begin crying looking for the cats. Mr. Bombadee swoops up SugarLips and heads to the basement with my dog to join the Mrs. and LaLa. Mr. Tot and I are closing blinds, looking for the damn cats. When he finally finds Bella Jane, she scratches the hell out of his arm on the way downstairs. Doesn’t she know he may be saving her life? I can tell Bombadee is nervous, her eyes indicate worry, her hands are kept in pockets to conceal their shaking, she keeps LaLa close and puts anything with glass aside, out of harms way. I can’t stop apologizing for my messy basement, even though I know my friends could care less.

After about 20 minutes or so, we get the all clear to head back up to continue watching the colors move across the counties on my TV screen. Since the storm is heading towards my friends small town, they decide to wait it out for awhile. I put my kids to bed, LaLa finally succumbs to overwhelming exhaust cuddled up in the booger sweater. We chat about looming events, discuss impending decisions, Mr. Bombadee dozes off and on. By 11:30, we all decide it is safe for our friends to head home.

No tornados, but we did discover that if we were ever to be in a natural disaster we would want the Bombadee's with us.

The Libertine

This looks like my genre of film; a passionate, period drama unapologetically riddled with sex and violence.


Now, if it would only play at a theatre around here, I may actually go see it.

Spicy Casseroles

Sorry it has taken me so long to get the Casserole pics from Saturday posted.

I am feeling sorry now as I look through these that I chose not to take my camera into the dance club we went to. You'll have to imagine the pics for that one...

Our Habenero's experience:

They offered a salsa bar with 15 different varieties ranging from sweet to savory to spicy. Several of us chose the spicy and were unprepared with our empty water glasses to cool the burn.

Fiesta Pie ordered the MOST AWESOME guacamole ever. They bring a cart with a large variety of ingredients for you to choose from and make it fresh.

The wandering guitarist took notice of our table and quickly headed over to flirt.

He took an immediate interest in Souffle, who shared the joyous news of her pregnancy.

Just when we thought we could eat no more, they brought a dessert cart over. Green Bean and I shared the flan. It was delicious.

The Casseroles.

Side Note: Deep Dish took out her lipstick and I declared, "That looks like a Silver Bullet". Several ladies giggled in agreement while other looked puzzled. Fiesta Pie will be having a Surprise Party soon for some much needed education.

Funny Girl

Do our movie choices and preferences say something about us?

A comment was made to me at work recently when I was clueless in a discussion on various modern day funny-ha-ha films.

“You don’t like comedies?”

It’s not that I don’t like comedies. I just find very few of them funny, for one thing. Old school comedies like Caddyshack, Young Frankenstein, Strange Brew, Animal House, Delirious, Airplane; these flicks are pee-your-pants funny to me. Yes I realize my choices make me sound like a 22 year old frat boy, but what can I say. I think what surprised them most about my dislike of comedies, is that I have always been somewhat considered a “funny girl”. I am always giggling and smiling and looking for my next opportunity to get a laugh. Wouldn’t it seem likely that I would gravitate towards funny movies? Not really.

I love to watch dramas, love stories, period films, fantasy, suspense thrillers, and mysteries. These movies are avenues of escapism for me. They inspire me and compel me to think. Period films like Dangerous Liaison’s, Empire of the Sun, Hamlet, Elizabeth, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Gone with the Wind with their sweeping cinematography and intricate costumes are feasts for my eyes. Fantasy films like The Lord the Rings, Legend, Conan the Barbarian, Excalibur, Willow, The Dark Crystal, The Neverending Story take me to worlds I don’t have the imagination required to create. Love stories for me aren’t the Sleepless in Seattle or Runaway Bride crap. They are The Color Purple, Moulin Rouge, Fried Green Tomatoes, As Good As It Gets, Quills, Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner. These movies speak love to me and touch my soul.

For the most part, I have a light-hearted and fun life. I prefer to surround myself with amusing, witty, optimistic, merry friends and keep it as drama-free as possible. Drama can arise from time to time, but I find that I don’t tolerate it well in my real life. It is what I prefer to escape to not from.

When it comes to funny-ha-ha, well…that is what I strive for everyday in my life. My real life.

Hmmmm....

If this blog is called TaterTot's Thoughts and I have nothing to post today, does that mean I have no thoughts?

Yeah...I've got nothing.

Dancing with the Oscar's

Saturday evening was spent enjoying time with my peeps, The Casseroles. We dined at a wonderful Mexican restaurant, Habenero’s. Bombadee has a post with all of the nitty gritty and I concur with her entirely. I forgot my camera today, so pics will have to be posted tomorrow (sorry ladies). Two great things I would like to note from the evening, both personal:

• The first Casserole meeting was in the summer of ’05. I remember dancing that evening; or more specifically how I would shake my thang no more than two songs at a time before being so winded and having legs that felt like wavering rubber telling me I couldn’t continue. I would often sit on the sidelines feeling woeful as my thinner, healthier friends carried on. Not anymore. This past Saturday night, I danced and danced and danced and danced. The heart pounding house music filled my limbs and assured me no rest was needed. We were at this club 2 1/2 hours, I am not kidding when I proclaim TaterTot danced two of them.
• As Bombadee and I approached each other on the dance floor, our breasts met (there’s a visual for you – imagine sparks flew or something). Now this may seem odd to some of you, but to me it translates to this: “As Bombadee and I approached each other on the dance floor, my fat stomach was NOT the first thing to touch her.”

When I crawled out of bed Sunday morning and stood up, I thought my knees would buckle from beneath me. Apparently they aren’t used to 2+ hours of dancing.

Sunday evening SugarLips and I headed to Bombadee’s for the Academy Awards. Jenny and I sat in her living room curled up in our comfy clothes under blankets as the kids ran circles and Dan moved from place to place with his laptop and earphones. While I could type endlessly on all we watched and discussed, at this time I will only note the following:

• When Sugar and I arrived and walked through the massive doors, he and his beloved LaLa’s eyes met across the room. He yelled, “LaLa” and she responded, “Iz-kak”. They ran towards each other, arms wide open, meeting halfway and embraced. Jenny and I smiled as she said, “That could have only been better if they were in a meadow or something.”
• Dolly Parton, who I adore, looks like a bobble head. It’s the only way I can describe it. Her waist, legs and arms are so thin that her head looks too big for her body. Jenny said she looked like a couple of marshmallows on toothpicks in her white suit. We both reminisced on this gorgeous, voluptuous woman we remember from 9 to 5 and Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Where did she go?
• Jon Stewart rocks. Enough said.
• Russell Crow is the only cool cat of the modern day that can pull off a pompadour.
• Meryl Streep’s skin looks like creamy porcelain.
• As Jenny and I watched the multiple movie montages, we realized how many movies we still haven’t seen (Crash, A History of Violence) or want to share with each other (Being John Malkovich, The Color Purple). We thought, how fun would it be to have a monthly movie night? We can take turns picking a film and have popcorn and wine, followed by in depth discussions and pompous declarations on a films importance in society. This would be right up Mr. BlahZeeBlah’s alley. Then reality set in. If we establish one more “monthly get together” we might as well all move into a compound or something.

Who's That?

Mimi and I were were having a blast reminiscing last night as we went through photo boxes. She is the "Student of the Week" and needed to take in pictures of herself and her family.

Suddenly I came across something that made my stomach turn. Then another. Then another.

Who IS that?
Is that ME?
Did I look like THAT?

Yes, to my horror, these are all me. At my heaviest. I have made progress, but have become complacent. I arrived at 193 months ago and stopped. It's time to go again. Jennie's Journey is once again in full swing.

40 pounds to go.

My Magnificent Mimi

Nine years ago, to the minute, you appeared.


You are a light that shines on those around you.
You are a beautiful, enchanted and whimsical spirit.
You are a gift.
I love you.
Happy Birthday.

Wazoo Weekend

We, as usual, have weekend plans coming out our wazoo’s. Most of our upcoming weekends already have at least one “event”, some of them have several.

Saturday:
10:00 a.m. – Picked up by parents to photograph their new house. Deliver Girl Scout cookies to out of town family.
7:00 p.m. – Hockey game with Bombadee’s and Blahzeeblah’s

Sunday:
8:30 a.m. – Breakfast with parental units, Sister Stephanie and Boyfriend Brian
10:00 a.m. – Girl Scout scrapbooking with Mimi (each Scout creates a memory book)
1:30 p.m. – Mimi’s Birthday Swim Party with her friends
5:00 p.m. – Mimi’s Birthday dinner with my family

Who am I kidding? I always complain how it would be so nice to have a weekend with nothing to do, but am sure I would be bored.

Upcoming Events Include:
Mimi’s Family Party (another side of the family)
Fine Arts Night at Doody’s School
Casseroles (Woo-Hoo!)
Dinner Party at Our House
Library Benefit/Gala
Moving Parental Units (this should take the entire weekend)

Blahzeeblah Production Company's First Indie Film

Bombadee suggested to me yesterday how our lives/relationships over the past several months would make an interesting film. The plot would focus on friendships marred by a fine tapestry of deceit and web of lies leading to a climatic ending. We would market it as inspired by true events, allowing us to append (make up) what we want and avoid lawsuits. She did note “all we need in there is a murder an explosion and a sexy lesbian kiss somewhere”. Now that's what I'm talking about.

Next we started to cast our film. Bombadee made some suggestions and I came up with some picks. Our characters to cast would be:

• Mrs. Bombadee: the often misunderstood and conflicted main character who is forced to make some life altering choices and defend not only herself but her friends and family when they find themselves in peril; she evolves from tree-hugging hippie to bicep-flexing heroine
• Mr. Bombadee: the intelligent politician with a no-nonsense attitude and passion for fantasy games, historical wars and breasts; he is an expert in the Vulcan Death Grip and trivia games
• TaterTot: the funny sidekick who is conflicted between telling it like she sees it and being everyone’s friend; she eventually makes a decision and discovers her inner superhero
• Mr. TaterTot: the handsome and quiet husband who saves the day at the last moment by defusing a bomb and ends the film with the funniest one-liner ever heard
• Mrs. Blahzeeblah: the sanest character in the film who provides and grounding point and sense of stability to the others
• Mr. Blahzeeblah: the geeky former marine who may seem like a jokester, but when push comes to shove opens a serious can of whoop-ass to save the day while using off the wall phrases and bad karate movie lingo; provides much needed comic relief
• Brother Joe: Bombadee’s brother who fills in the missing pieces of another character’s past
• The Duchess: our films antagonist who eventually goes off the deep end and uses the Internet as her virtual partner in destruction and death; as the credits roll, you hear her evil laugh "MWAAAA-HA-HA-HA" leading the audience to believe she survived the car explosion, bridge collapse, 120-foot fall and shark infested waters (this leaves open the possibility for a sequel as well)
• The Cowboy: this character is not cast as he is never actually seen, only referred to; by the end of the film, the audience is left not knowing if he is real or a figment of another characters imagination…

Here are the actors I chose to play the above characters with the exception of The Cowboy and TaterTot. Any guesses on who I chose to play whom?

Number 8 is left blank as TaterTot was a difficult character to cast. After asking for suggestions at work, this is the pool of choices we put together. Which is your pick?

We also need a title for our film....

*Disclaimer: All character references in this post are meant to be humorous. Mr. Bombadee cannot perform the Vulcan Death Grip nor can my husband difuse a bomb. And, I'm pretty sure the midwest does not house any shark-infested waters. With that said, I hope you enjoyed it.

The Tale of Two Haircuts

Please note dear readers, although I believe I am down to one or two who actually read my blog at this point, I purchased my first digital camera fifteen days ago (isn't is amazing what can happen in 15 days by the way?). I am taking pictures non stop. Mr.'s Bombadee and Blazeeblah can attest to this based on my annoying, insatiable need to snap a picture every ten seconds on Saturday night. Please be patient with me as I work through my new found obsession to capture and post more than you really want to see whether it be my chit-lins, my friends, my pets, my house, my co-workers...whatever.

My offering today: The Tale of Two Haircuts

SugarLips before:

During the actual haircut, this expression never left his face and he barely moved:

He finally caught his reflection in the mirror and smiled:

SugarLips After:

Doody before:

Doody After - she was going for an "older look", I think it worked:

Mama Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys...

Yippie Ki-Yay!

33 and Lovin' It

New shirt to wear to birthday celebration: $14.95

Dinner, appetizer, dessert and drinks at Japanese hibachi restaurant: $94.35

Bar tab at small local watering hole where Bombadee and I danced: $38.00

Pictures of me and my friends having a good time on my birthday: Priceless

Jennie, It's Mom...Call Me Right Away...Jim's Been In An Accident...

This is the voicemail we all fear. I was checking mine Thursday at 7:30 p.m. on the way home from the kids haircut appointments and this is what I hear. I call back Mom, hoping it’s a joke. It’s not. He was heading down 64 in his pickup at 6:30 p.m. when a car slid through an intersection on the black ice. T-Bone. He calls my Mom, who is still in her office at work and says, “I’m hurt, I’m hurt, call an ambulance.” She calls 911 and insists the ambulance take him to the hospital we both work at, it is a Level I Trauma Center. They say no, they are taking him to the smaller town hospital that is closer. She waits in her office, unable to drive the 60 minutes until she calms down. Sister Stephanie is informed, she is on her way to the ER. When he arrives and my Mom finally gets an update she is told, by the treating ER doctor, that Jim is alert but has a probable broken pelvis and multiple extremity fractures – both legs, both arms and his left hand. Devastation. This is the update I am hearing as my car is heading to the small town hospital treating my broken step-father, all three children in the backseat. Devastation. My girls are crying. “Will PaPa be okay?” I struggle with how to answer. “I hope so.”

My next update comes five minutes later. Mom is hysterical. The small town hospital can’t handle him, he needs a Level I Trauma center. Jim is being transferred. I turn the car around and begin heading to his new location. Thankfully, Aunt Teenie Weenie calls me and asks where I am, where am I going? I’m in a stupor. “I’m just driving. I don’t know.” She calmly tells me to go get Jeff from work, take him and the kid’s home and head to the hospital slowly and carefully. This is what I do. I arrive at the ER around 9:30 p.m. to find my Mom, Sister Stephanie, Boyfriend Brian and friend Logan sitting, waiting. He’s not there yet. A short time later, my Mom makes an inquiry with the front desk. The small town hospital wouldn’t drive him, he is too critical. Weather and icy conditions did not allow the helicopter to get him. Our hospital had to send a trauma team in their own ambulance to pick him up. Devastation.

To make a long story shorter, we finally are told at 12:30 a.m., after many tests, that he has no broken bones. He is held overnight for observation. We are relieved. Then we are angry. Why were we told he had a probable broken pelvis and multiple extremity fractures? This is apparently explained by the fact that Jim was hit by a car 20+ years ago and broke both arms and both legs. They “looked” at his extremities and diagnosed fractures based on the deformities he has been living with for years. I have always been under the impression that is what radiology is for since x-ray vision is still in beta. The first ambulance’s insistence to take him to the small town hospital delayed his treatment by 5 hours. The accident was at 6:30 p.m.; he was finally given pain relief, treatment and properly diagnosed at 11:30 p.m. It’s hard to stay angry, because he is okay. But, for several hours on Thursday night, we were devastated.

Things That Have Surprised Me This Week

American Idol has beaten the Olympics in the ratings.

A conversation with my 10-year old daughter regarding boys. She received a bracelet and heart shaped box of chocolates from an admirer by the name of Eric. No other girls received a similar gift from Eric, only my Doody. As we are talking about this, she shares how Eric and his best friend both have crushes on her and have been fighting. She is hoping the best friend’s attentions will move to her friend Taylor to avoid any further conflict. I sit and listen to these tales calmly as my chest begins to ache with the thought of boys and my daughter, my daughter and boys. Thankfully when I asked her about having a boyfriend she said “I don’t think I’ll be ready until at least junior high”. I can breathe again, for now.

Vice President Dick Cheney’s declaration that the day he shot his friend in the face was the “one of the worst days of my life.” Personally I would think he should acknowledge it was one of the worst days of his friend’s life.

How easily I am able to liberate myself of a relationship gone sour. In the past it would have taken me months of gloom and guilt, trying to work it out. I went through that last year, I won’t do it again this year. I choose who to share my life with.

Turning 33 isn’t bothering me. Seriously.

I can still get jealous when it comes to my husband.

Someone who has unjustly labeled herself as a “fair weather friend”, I discovered is anything but. When I needed an ear this week, one was offered. Thank you.

My Afternoon

I'm skipping school, drinking cranberry wine and looking at obscene things on the Internet with one of my number one friends. Life is good. Today.

Reasons We Like Our Friend

Here are several reasons Bombadee and I really like our friend:

• She is an excellent listener.
• She always has the sanest advice of anyone we know.
• She is the MOST awesome chef ever.
• She loves her children and ours.
• She looks even more glowey when she is pregnant.
• She can cut her own friggin' hair and it looks spectacular.
• She is married to Mr. Blaazee-Blah
• She can keep a secret.
• She may seem quiet and shy, but get a few drinky-drinks in her and watch out!
• She is the classiest person who is willing to be friends with us.
• She used to smoke "stuff" with one of us more often than we should admit.
• She has never taken a bad photograh, ever.
• She has the longest lashes next to a Maybelline commercial.
• She is determined, strong, unshakable, tolerant, and poised through it all.
• She gets our jokes, or least laughs to make us believe she does.
• She is always smiling.
• She is supportive and nuturing.
• She is not embarrassed to talk about sex and demonstrate valuable exercises.
• She can dance like we always wished we could. And still try to.
• She will pick up the phone to call and ask how you are today.
• She's selfless, she wouldn't ask for toilet paper if she thought it would put you out.
• She's not afraid to tell you when you're being a bitch, but she always says it nicely.
• She uses the word "dude" a lot.
• Play "Push It" by Salt N' Peppa and back up, you're about to see a performance.
• She listens to the Butthole Surfers and Nitzer Ebb.
• She would willingly change our childs poopy diaper without being asked.
• She has raised a very kind and loving Judo Boy.
• Did we mention she can cook?

What Not To Wear...

I've been looking for a dress for a fun social occasion coming up in September and am having a hard time. Most stores I have perused seem to have one of three choices:

Teeny-Bopper Homecoming Dress

Hoochie-Mama Dress

Mother of the Bride Dress



I did find a few online that I like on the twig mannequins they're showcased on, but the biggest size they came in was an 11 (except the last, black lace one). It will be interesting to see what I end up with.

I'm looking for 33-year-old sophisticated fun with knee length minimum and chest support (no strapless).




Wish me luck!

The Post That Was Never Meant To Rock A Friendship, But Managed To Do Just That

See below.

Reasons I Like, Love and Admire My Friend.

This is not meant to embarrass her nor is it intended for her to respond with all of the things she likes about me. I just think its nice every once in awhile to remind those you care about that they are special. Plus, if there is one thing we definitely share it has to be our penchant for lists. Here's my list for her:

• She’s fun. Her name is high on the list of “people I want to hang out with on a Saturday night”.
  
• She’s intelligent. I enjoy knowing people who occasionally use a word or reference I don’t understand and aren’t annoyed when I ask what it means.
  
• She enjoys playing dress-up. I have pictures to validate.
  
• She has a sense of purpose.
  
• She’s honest. I am still trying to convince her that being out spoken and honest does not equate to being a bitch. Just because someone doesn’t like what you say doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have said it or that your intentions were to hurt their feelings.
  
• She is a wonderful mother. Being a mother is something we both find rewarding and irreplaceable.
  
• She is deeply in love with her husband. It’s nice to confirm that other couples can argue, get annoyed with each other, enjoy time away from one another and still have a strong, loving, passionate marriage.
  
• She and I respect each other. We do not always agree, but we can discuss anything and appreciate the others point of view. Our friendship is not weakened by the realization we do not have the same opinion on everything. Quite the opposite.
  
• She can keep confidences. This statement has never really been tested, but I wholeheartedly believe it to be true.
  
• She enjoys playing board games or cards with our children running in circles around the table.
  
• She and I can talk openly about sex, without the worry of embarrassment or judgment.
  
• She taught me how to swing dance and has told me I’m ready to graduate to dipping.
  
• She makes a mean cosmopolitan. We enjoy sharing a cocktail or two every now and again, but have thankfully moved past the desire to binge drink ourselves into a stupor.
• She likes me, and my husband, and my children. I have a tendency to gravitate towards this type of person more than those who find me an annoying, opinionated, haughty bitch. (Yes, there are some with that opinion.)
  
• She inspired me to start my blog. While I do not have the readers that she or Beth has, I enjoy having a place all my own where I can post cute pics of my kids one day, rant on politics the next and occasionally be annoying, opinionated and haughty.

*Don't we both have some killer cleavage?

Weekend Synopsis: Multiple Shopping Orgasms

Friday Night:

Dinner out with the kiddos and my folks at this great restaurant in what will be their new, very small, home town called The Pinecricker. The food was fabulous and affordable, two of my favorite things.

Dropped off final payment to Aunt Teenie Weenie for our living room furniture. I love not owing family money.

Saturday:

Doody’s basketball tournament was all day. After four teams played six games, her team was the only one undefeated. She ended her fifth grade season with a 1st place trophy. The second half of the last game, her team was ahead by 15 points and feeling pretty secure. My tiny daughter was the only member of the team who did not make a basket all season. Jeff and I were sitting in the stands right behind the team bench and overheard the coach tell them at half time to get the ball to Abi, it was her time to shine. I had a hard time sitting through the rest of the game with the large lump that moved into my throat as I heard her teammates cheer, “You can do it, Abi”. She attempted twice, but missed both. She may have finished the season with no baskets, but what she did have was worth so much more. Friends.

Shopping, shopping, shopping. Duchess Jane and I hit the town and spent some serious money. Best Buy, Old Navy, Target, Circuit City, Bergner’s, Marshall Fields and other various mall stores. We had a wide variety of discussions/discoveries, i.e. TaterTot has an uncanny ability to look marvelous in all style of sunglasses, back fat needs to be considered in the purchase of all formal wear, “smoother-outers” are a necessary evil, Jane looks magnificent in low cut plum trimmed in antique gold and amethyst beading, earrings circa 1982 are back in, and size 18 pants without a tapered leg can be more elusive than sasquatch.

Eating, eating, eating. Jane and I over indulged ourselves with the 3-course meal special at TGIF’s. Whoever decided to marry the decadence of Cinnabon’s and cheesecake was a genius. Once again, we sat at a table and talked for hours as I shredded a wooden skewer into a pile of splinters.

Sunday:

I went out for breakfast with parental units and Stephanie, followed by six hours of packing at the cabin. Strange items my parents use as decorations I found myself packing: beaver skull, antique stone pulleys, ceramic banana boy, antique shears, horse harness, antique enamel basins and a variety of animal skins including beaver, deer, cougar, minks, rabbit and coyote.

More shopping. Finally found some pants but had to settle for a slightly tapered leg. I did discover that in Lee Eased Fit Stretch khaki’s I can easily fit into a size 16. My vanity has no bounds…I bought two pair for that reason alone. New discovery: Curvations bras, spokesperson Queen Latifah. I finally found a pushup bra designed for busty women. Look out America, Tot’s cleavage is now on display!

Hey Big Spender...

Our federal tax return was deposited today. Here are our plans for the money, so far:

• Vegas House Rental, Deposit to Dan & Jenny
• Vegas Flight
• Payoff the following credit cards: Kohls, Kohls, Capital One
• Couch payoff to Aunt Teenie Weenie
• Digital Camera
• New Bedding for Doody, Mimi, Mr. & Mrs. TaterTot
• Payback parental units some borrowed money
• Full-Face Helmets for Doody, Mimi and SugarLips
• Deposit for Mimi’s Girl Scout Camp
• New Pants for TaterTot

This still leaves us with a chunk of change…hope it doesn’t burn a hole in my pocket.

Dress Vote

I have been doing some online shopping with my new found size (down from a tight 22 to a comfortable 18). I keep going back to these two dresses. Casual enough that I could throw on a cardigan or wrap and wear with flip flops or dressy enough I could put on some great earrings and heals. I probably won't buy both and can't decide which I like more, or which would look better. The brown/floral one would offer more support and produce some killer cleavage, but the black one would probably be more slimming. I'm afraid the brown/floral number is too busy, but the waist on the black one's waist seems to ride really high.

I'm conflicted.

Which do you like better?

Dood-a-looney

I may complain now and again that my Doody is growing up too quickly, but every once in awhile we still get to enjoy our "little" girl.

What Happens in Vegas...

I have been to Sin City\The City of Lights twice. I had what I consider to be a really good time and a fabulous time.

In 2002, The Big B and I went for a girl’s only vacation. It was my first time, her third or fourth. Her mission was to show me the town and that’s precisely what we did for three nights and four days. We walked and walked and walked and walked and walked until my feet were literally about to crumble from my ankles. I would often say, “Hey Bren, let’s stop and have a beer” to “We don’t have time, the free pirate show starts in twenty-three minutes and we have to walk 1.2 miles to get there.” We figured on the way home that we had slept something like 15 hours in four days. A good time, but exhausting.

Last year, Jeff and I went with Steph and Brian for my kid sister’s 21st birthday. Since I had been shown most of the “sites” in my last whirlwind tour the pressure was off. It was much more casual and fun. Dancing, a bit more gambling, drinking, lounge acts, sex (I was with my husband this time after all), food, sleep…whatever we felt like doing, we did. No agenda, no itinerary...just fun, fun, fun.

This coming September we have a trip planned with our dear friends Dan and Jenny to celebrate their 10th anniversary with a vow renewal Vegas style. Jeff and I were a bit nervous about going at first, as we are the only couple not bringing their child, or children in our case. Rather than stay in a hotel/casino, Dan and Jenny are renting a gorgeous five bedroom house complete with entertainment room and private pool/spa. Bedrooms were first come/first serve. Jeff and I went back and forth for days. Do we want to stay in a house with kids and grandparents (babysitters)? Here was our train of thought that led us to a decision:

• Money: We looked into a room on the strip and leaving on Sunday to save a night. It was still going to cost close to $300 more (on the Strip), and the flight out on Sunday is at 6am; we would lose all day Sunday. Staying less time and paying more money? That makes no sense.
• Pool: I am a “hang out at the pool and drink a Pina Colada” gal. The hotel pools are crowded with strangers and stinky. I'm sure Jeff and I would go to the private pool at the house to hang with our friends anyway. Why are we staying at a hotel again?
• Kids: There are kids everywhere in the hotels, so why are kids at the house bugging me so much? In a hotel you basically get a bedroom with an attached bath, same the house. In a hotel you may have kids on the other side of the wall, same as the house. Is it guilt for not bringing my own kids when my friends are? I got over it. Still not taking my children.
• Drunkenness and Getting Our Groove On: It is a given that both of these things will happen, the latter hopefully in the privacy of our room. I kept thinking if I stay at a house with kids and Jenny’s parents I can’t jump in the pool naked at midnight if I want to. Well I’m stupid…I can’t jump in the pool naked at a hotel either, without the risk of jail time. So what’s the big deal?
• Sleeping: Jeff and I will be out late and I was afraid if we were at the house, sleeping would be interrupted by kids who won’t be sleeping til noon. Who am I kidding? Sleeping in for me is like 8:30 a.m. no matter how late I am up.
• Food and Drink: I’m frugal (a.k.a. cheap). I can bring a big bottle of booze and Pina Colada mix with me; we can go to the store to buy food. We wouldn’t have to eat out EVERY meal. Restaurants quickly bore me and meals in Vegas are not as cheap as they used to be, you can’t find $5.95 prime rib dinners any more.

Yes, we decided to stay at the house with our friends, their children and parents. Will we have crazy fun? Will TaterTot drink too much? Will we have hot monkey sex? Will we have cocktails in the pool before noon? Will we stay out all night? Most likely answer to these questions and more is a yes.

So please dear friends, feel free to remind me I am in the presence of children if needed.

And, feel free to jump in the pool naked with us when they are sleeping.

A Son's Obsession

A battle of wills (not wits, dear Jane) took place in my household last night. In one corner, Mommy. In the other, SugarLips. My little Mr. Lips has discovered the world of Pixar animation. Nothing else matters; not food, not toys, not playmates. Only Buzz Lightyear or “Baa Light” as he is called by my 2-year-old (insert your own beer joke here). Every morning I wake up to him crawling on my head, shouting “Up…Mommy…up…more Baa…peas”. Immediately after we arrive home each evening he grabs a chair to reach the latch on the TV cabinet, hoping to get the magical machine that produces Baa Light to work for his tiny hands. I’m usually chasing him, trying to take off his hat and coat.

Jeff and I have decided to limit SugarLips to one movie per day. Since Jeff is home with him all morning, he is usually the hero who produces the beloved Buzz on the magic box. Mommy is the tyrant who says, “No more movies. Let’s read a book” as he screams, cries and stomps his feet.

Last night, after our typical tantrum I made dinner; macaroni & cheese and pork chops. Mr. Lips refused to sit at the dinner table. He just kept screaming “mo Baa”. His sisters and I sat at the table and ate, staring at his untouched plate of food. About an hour later, he asked to eat. I told him he had to sit at the table to eat. My son shot me a very serious look and said, “No”. He pulled one of his small chairs up to the coffee table in front of the TV, sat down, pointed at the table and said “Eat”. It would have been so easy to just hand him his plate and not feel guilty that I was starving my child, but I couldn’t do it. My refusal of his plan and insistence he sit at the dinner table brought on yet another tantrum. This went back and forth until 8:00 p.m., his bedtime. I was prepared to put him to bed without supper, but thought I should give him one last chance.

Mommy: “Isaac, are you hungry”
Isaac: “Yep”
Mommy: “Want some macaroni and pork chops?”
Isaac: “Yep”
Mommy: “Come sit at the table, and I will heat it up for you”
Isaac: “O-tay”

Isaac and I sat at the table and I airplane’d and choo-choo’d him every bite of his dinner.

State of the Union Address

Memorable moments, for me:

• As President Bush noted the passing of Coretta Scott King, the camera immediately zoomed in on the faces of African-American’s seated in the Capitol.
• “There is no peace in retreat.” The definition of peace is the state prevailing during the absence of war. How does one obtain peace in the presence of war if it is defined by its absence?
• “We are in this fight to win, and we are winning.” Personally, I’m going to have to quote Dalton (Patrick Swayze) from the movie Road House here and say, “No one wins a fight.”
• President Bush noted the death of Marine Staff Sergeant Dan Clay in Falluja last month and introduced his family; wife Lisa and parents Sara Jo and Bud. This sad, reflective moment was twisted a bit for me when the family stood, the house applauded and the camera panned to our President smiling and winking in another direction. This man has no scruples.

After reading Bombadee’s post yesterday, I kept count of some words used in the speech. Here is what I had at the end:

Terror/Terrorism/Terrorists: 17
Freedom: 15
WMD/Nuclear Weapons: 4
9/11: 2

Alas, he did not use either resolve or steadfast. No shots for me.