Selfish Me

Last Tuesday we got a call to bring Princess A home from college because she had mono and bronchitis. She has had an unexpected extended Thanksgiving break.

Now I must admit that I am feeling a bit mommy selfish, as I know she wishes she was still sitting in her sorority dorm room pinned down at her desk studying and laughing with the "sisters"...I love my girly being home. There is something about this family home feeling complete and, although we are always complete despite distance or absence it just feels heart warming when we are all under the same roof.

Today I think my Princess has perked back. Sure she is still sluggish but that has something to do with getting in the habit of sleeping three-fourth of the day away in the name of healing. I saw signs of life returning yesterday in her.

So if you don't mind I am going to relish in the selfish heart I have for having extra time with my first born. Because I love, enough though she was sick, her looking at me when I walked in the room asking me to sit next to her and love her.

Don't worry I already added this to my list of thanksgiving.

Nightmare

I was startled awake at around 245am by a Thanksgiving nightmare...that I put the wrong turkey in the oven. The flat turkey in my dream would have only fed half my guests.

I need to stop watching Food Network Thanksgiving specials. Apparently all those shows are haunting my sleep. I really do have the mother of all birds comfortably resting in a defrosting state in my refrigerator. Despite my haunting nightmare I am certain my bird is going to turn out succulent and at nearly 26 pounds will feed every guest.

Now, if I could just fall back to sleep.

Bandwich 101

5:10am the alarm blared and King Ralph sprung up in bed to ask what was going on. I wearily replied "it's time to make "bandwiches". Insane I tell you. Sandwich making before the sun rises.

What turned out to be even more insane was the moms who were all coiffed for "bandwich" making. Sandwich making at the crack of dawn was not an obligation I felt I needed to present anything more than my natural side. I slithered into the jeans I wore Friday, brushed my teeth and tossed a cloth headband into my unbrushed hair. I slipped my gnarly unpedicured feet into my favorite black Old Navy flip flops--caring not a bit if lettuce and tomato grimed my feet.

I entered the school cafeteria at 5:30am to a long sign in line and blasting music. So if I wasn't awake before I passed through the doors I was shocked awake by the mere volume of Journey and Meatloaf, then I backed it up with a couple of caffeinated diet Pepsi's. I avoided any job assignment that required hair nets and rubber gloves and took to the quality control. I made certain the correct number of "bandwiches" were in each bag. M however looked like the cafeteria fashionesta in her hospital blue scrub top, hair net and rubber glove while she helped to build nearly 2300 bandwiches.

Then it was time to deliver the bad boys, I mean poor boys, I mean sub sandwiches, I mean BANDWICHES! Feed back: complete customer satisfaction.

Here I am at 6pm ready for bed on a Saturday night. I am comfortably cloaked in my PJ's not caring for dinner due to pure exhaustion. All I can think about is how much fun it will be to make "bandwiches" in December. Because if I won't be tired enough from decking the halls I will be from sandwich making in the school cafeteria.

Holiday party hosting? I'll, I mean M, cater your main course. Call me!

Learning a New Song

Tomorrow will mark the first of many Saturday mornings I will rise with M at 5am to create "bandwiches". M says she "refuses to say the word bandwiches, it's ridiculous". Ridiculous but catchy...a sub sandwich made by a band student for the fundraising purpose of getting to the Tournament of Roses Parade.

I hear they make us sing this song while we don hair nets and rubber gloves while all you sensible people are still sleeping dreaming of your lunch soon to come.

If you ordered a "bandwich" from M she may just sing you this song when she delivers your order and collects the green.

Areatha Franklin Sing For The Turkey

I’m back! Finally I feel like myself again after weeks of antibiotics, steroids and chasers of inhaled steroids. I wake in the morning without a drag in my step or a drudge in my being that I have to actually exist and breathe. Gosh I love drugs! So since I am feeling top of my game I am ready to let it out, the thing that is eating at my craw.

Thanksgiving.

I love Thanksgiving. I love setting my long table with my nice dishes, crystal and silverware. I love preparing heavy-fattening-caloric foods and topping it off with pumpkin pie piled high with real whipped cream. I love family in a tryptophan induced state gathered to play games and then all going to the movie theater at night. I bet you are now thinking what’s got her craw if she loves Thanksgiving so much.

Christmas.

I have been driving around lately doing errands, car-pooling teenagers here and there all the while I notice the turkey’s got no respect. What is with the world that they must hurry Thanksgiving along and string Christmas lights across houses eaves? I’m all for the pre-stringing; smart guys climb to the roof when the weather is in the seventies in preparation for the big light switch pull. But. But beaming your house all aglow already—NO! Then there is nuts who have the Christmas tree standing lit and decorated in the front windows of there homes. Why? What’s the hurry? I am certain these are the folks who tire of trees and lights by December 25 and can’t wait to disassemble the splendor of holiday cheer. I nearly died when I drove past a house with its 7-foot blow up Santa standing proud in the yard amongst 1000 twinkling lights.

Stop! Enough I tell you. Turkey needs some respect. He needs his, deserves his, day on the calendar. Come on people the pilgrim didn’t break corncob with the Indian to be overshadowed by Santa Claus and twinkling fiber optics. There is beauty in dry Indian corn clusters hanging on the front door. Cornucopias as center pieces spilling out harvest of plenty. There is undeniable pleasure in carving the turkey while giving thanks to the many blessing that touch our lives. Why can’t the world see this? Why do we have to rush to sell presents with all these pre-pre-black Friday sales? Why do radio stations have to spoil the excitement of Christmas music by playing it non-stop starting two weeks ago? Can’t we find the joy in turning on the radio the Friday after Thanksgiving to hear Bing Crosby sing us “White Christmas” while we wake at 5am to shop and score the hottest item of the season? What is up with the need to pressure the year to end?

In protest with the utmost respect for the turkey I will not listen to a single Christmas carol, pre-string lights on my eaves or purchase a gift. I will savor every November day that the calendar offers while I prepare my list of the things I am most grateful for this Thanksgiving, 2009.

Long live the turkey. Well, till he roasts in my oven.

It Was a Flash Gordon Morning

Since I still am not feeling like myself but have returned to work despite; I crawl back in bed every morning after I pack the girls' lunches. I sleep till the very last minute that I possibly can to still make myself look presentable to kids aged 5-11...and maybe a hand full of fellow adults.

This morning I slept through my alarm for the first time. I rolled over at 8:46am, freaked, and realized I needed to leave the house at 9:10am.

I learned today that I can brush my teeth in the shower with one hand and soap my body with the other. Luckily it was a non-wash hair day so I jazzed my frizz with a blow dryer and a round brush...then slipped a head band on. Next I slapped a little bring me back to life color on the face. Then I threw on the last clean thing hanging in the laundry room, fastened my black Mary Jane Sketchers to my feet, slapped a half sandwich together and BAM out the door by 9:09am.

I did it. Didn't care for the rush feeling but I was on time to work. In the end that is the thing that mattered most.

Mr. Hayes Has Been Calling Me "Judy Iron Lung" For A Good Reason

The doctor's orders were "if you aren't feeling better by Monday make an appointment to come into the office." So after I coughed so hard and long last night--and into the early morning-- kicking myself out of the marital bed for the couch...that I passed hacking up my lung and went deep to my liver (that's how hard and low I was pulling that cough); it was time to call the doc and use some of my accumulated sick hours.

There was nothing more difficult for me than to hold my cough back in the waiting room. I felt I should out of respect for the twenty-something guy sitting across from me. My cough grabs stares and sends folks running. I fashioned my coughs in this closed-mouth-soft-throat-encapsulated-manner. So by the time I got into my closed door closest of an examination room I let the seal in me bark and bark and bark.... I even think the doctor's assistant went for the fish in her pocket to toss at me. I'm like a zoo animal when I open my mouth.

What has made me so sick? Could it be....
1. watching Kate: Her Story
2. watching the Jon Gosselin and Hailey Glassman interview on Entertainment Tonight
3. mooching Milky Ways from third graders
4. working with kids who come to school riddled with fever and have the pig flu
5. extended marching band season
6. Joe Jackson requesting a stipend from his son's estate
7. the constant flux in the outside temperature and a month of rainy days...and nights.

Well, whatever the reason I heard the doctor say things to me today like, "this is how people die from asthma" and "it could be whopping cough but that takes a month for the tests results to come back and the CDC goes crazy over stuff like that." I just looked back at the doc with her facial expession of girlfriend you have felt bad for a month and just decided to do something about in the last four days. I was there, now, seeking medical intervention; so what good was a scolding a gal with a O2 level of 81. She scraped everything I was given Friday over the phone except the last pill in my Z-Pac and I left with enough steroid based drugs to guarantee I will turn into Lou Ferrigno by next week. Plus I have narcotics so I can sleep without the threat of King Ralph shipping me off to the zoo.

Hopefully by Wednesday I can go back to work fever free with my ear and sinus infection pain lulled, my constant head ache calmed, my lymph nodes returning to there normal size, air moving through my lungs easier and the dam seal living inside quieted.

Besides it is boring laying on this couch! With eight hundred channels to chose from I can't seem to find a darn thing to watch at 2am.

So honey hold off on buying my burial plot I think I might survive this one.

Lazy Sunday

The only things I have managed to accomplish today is: swallow lotta pills, eat a little food, drink a lot of fluids and watch the Godfather trilogy on AMC.

I am quite happy.

Fact or Fiction

I struck a deal with the kids in third grade that we could be best friends for some Milky Ways. I even promised one kid a trade-- Milky Ways for one of my orange soda pops. Several came through with the Halloween treat goodness. Gotta love'm! FACT

I finally broke down called the doctor for this lingering sickness that seems to be sucking the life from me and causing my co-worker to nickname me "Judy Iron Lung". That I am now highly medicated, sleep all day and still not exactly feeling better. FACT

That I am totally burnt out on marching band for the season and, washing and ironing performance grey suit pants for fourteen. FACT!

The lights dimmed for the Flyers "Friday Night Lights". That the boys tried like hell to continue on in the state play-offs but that it was hard to recover from that first touch down that was pulled back on the call of an illegal block in the start of the game. That is well worth my five dollars to see the nail biting game, yet so hard to watch grown boys cry in defeat after an undefeated regular season...that in time they will be able to hold their heads high and know they have much to be proud of. FACT

My mother-in-law had bugs removed from her head during one of her two brain surgeries...two large bugs that were three inches long with lots of legs and faces that smiled like Jim Carey. FICTION (It's gonna take some time for this vivid anesthetic dream to leave my mother-in-law's healing memory and accept it truly was, just a dream).

Finding out that a transformer blew on the SEMO campus--that her sorority sisters sit in darkness in Building F-- makes Princess A happy that she chose to come home this week for home cooked meals and going to movies with her sister to see "Paranormal Activity". FACT

There is nothing more glorious than sunshine and an 82* November Saturday with a repeat on Sunday. FACT!

That I can't wait to start raking, blowing and bagging leaves. FICTION

I watched the movie "The Holiday" for about the millionth time like it was the first because I am a sucker for a great love story. FACT

Am FREAKING because the desk top kitchen computer crashed--it holds my Thanksgiving dinner recipes and Christmas card list with address. FACT

The Hair Of The Candy Bar

While most children are waking this morning to a sugar coma hang over, their parents tossing them fun size candy bars to take the edge off or bring them back to life; I stayed home last night only to answer my door to ten, TEN, goblins. So if you're thirsty I have thirty-eight cans of Vess soda pop left for the taking.

I woke this morning to realize that 730am on the clock was really 630am. Bonus! I also realized King Ralph and I were home alone still. It was like it was before we had children--quiet...but lonely. Then we started reminiscing about how the girls use to stand in the doorway of our room to alert us they were awake and we would coax them into our bed, all three piled between us, with cartoons on the TV while we snuck a few more winks of sleep. This morning we lay in bed watching the Today show before heading to Ihop for breakfast wondering where the time has gone. How it is that our three little girls have grown so fast, grown into young women?

We picked D from her friends house where she informed us that trick-r-treating, as a high school freshman was much harder than years prior. That the weight of the candy snag bag was less this year...she handed me a candy count list along with the "do not touch" items...I only want the Milky Ways.
M&M-6
Skittles-2
Nerds-2
Laffy Taffy4
Sour Patch-1
Baby Ruth-5
Mike&Ike-1
Dum Dums-1
Reesesticks-1
Reeses's-12
Starburst-7
Hershey's-2
100 Grand-2
Rice Krispies-1
Pretzels-3
Jolly Rancher-1
Twizzlers-2

I see a huge issue here--NO MILKY WAYS ON THIS LIST. Like really! What am I too snag from her sweet bag? This just proves she might be past the age to trick-r-treat. When you return without Mom's favorite it becomes a waste of time?

Orange or lemon-lime soda pop anyone?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

There is a pattern our life seems to be following on Halloween: King Ralph and I home alone. We are staying home to hand out our Vess soda pops to all the visiting ghouls and goblins with their adorable senseless jokes they will share for the trade. Last year we turned all the lights out and went to dinner. However this year my seal bark of a cough is not to desirable outside the perimeter of my walls so we're ordering a pizza in.

First we made sure a pumpkin was carved. D and King Ralph did a fine job turning our pumpkin into Jack Skellington. Don't you think?

The girls looked all adorable in their homemade Halloween cuteness as a Grecian Goddess and a Country Bumpkin.

If you don't mind I need to part way I hear the doorbell chiming. Trick-r-Treat!

Hallows Eve

It's not like getting the day off work meant sleeping in or lounging around for me. No it meant scrubbing bathrooms, renewing license plates, cooking dinner for the Color Guard girls and a football game.

Football game. Well I cheated. Being that the night air is moist and cool, that I just got my voice back (a voice that tends to still fade at time) I decided skipping the game was in my health's best interest. I curled up on the couch under a blanket with my laptop resting on my knees while I listened to the game on Prep Cast. We won. Again. An undefeated team...which is a first in the school's history. District Champions.

I tell you hearing the football team win was just as exciting as being in the stands and watching, seeing them win. I just wasn't frozen. The only minus to listening to the game from home is you can't hear the band. I guess there is always next week.

Marching Band continues.

Fun@Work

This morning I woke to fashion myself in my Halloween costume as today was party day at school, work. I also woke to find I had been silenced. My voice gone. "It's a trick" I whispered. King Ralph said "it's a treat". I then debated whether to use the only sign language I knew suitable for such a comment (my middle finger) or to stick out my tongue at him. I went with the head shake and a grimace.

When my tights don't seem to agree with me I come up with new ways to use last winters tights--a wig cap. There I was in the bathroom stretching the crotch of a pair of black tights over my head and affixing my wig. Perfect! Steamed my dress and wrapped my sash on...Princess Leia was ready to strut her stuff. Except the line M had me practice all night was but a mere whisper help me Obi Wan Kenobi you are my only hope. And, I sure could have used Obi-Wan Kenobi's help, he was certainly, possibly, the only hope I had.

Next it was off to the car dealer to get my car inspected and oil changed. You should have seen the guys in the service department as Princess Leia exited from her Tantive IV ship disguised as a Toyota Matrix. The service guys started to whip out there cell phones cameras to snap photos; like they had never seen a broad in costume before. They giggled at how difficult it was for me to convey my purpose for being there. I left them with my ship and promised I would send my young padawan learner to pick it up later. Being that he delivered said ship to school to me makes him up for a promotion to a Jedi Master.

Next--to work.

When I entered the office it looked as cute in the morning as it did when I left it last night at 730pm. So I present to you "The Office~2009". Truman Cine' and it's staff.

Come on in Have a snack
See what's playing
Buy a ticket
The big screen
Starring in the movies
Front Row: Carla in Grease, Terri your Wehrenberg employee Middle Row: Patti in The Bee Movie, Kari in Ratatouille, Sherri in Miss Congeniality, Cyndi in The Addams Family, Vicki in The Cat in the Hat Back Row: Keith in Happy Feet, Jodi in Star Wars Episode IV, Lori in The Cat in the Hat

Cyndi and I found our mini Me's Two Princess Leia's

&

Two Wednesday's complete with their favorite toy--a doll with no head.

The day was wet but fun! So much fun they are giving us the day off tomorrow. May October 31, be as much fun as October 29 proved to be!

Tuesday

Tuesday.

This constant rain has got to stop or I will be forced to open a cocktail bar that serves Prozac cocktails...and I won't charge cause we'll need a synthetic lifter. Really it is enough grey and gloom!

If last week's crazy sock day didn't leave me constantly repositioning my toe sock so my little toe didn't look like it was flapping in the air; today's brown tights left me--ANNOYED. The darn tights had a waist band that spend more time hanging on my hips and less time around my waist. I had a crotch that was closer to my knees than positioned in the area it was named for. So after nearly three hours of tugging and pulling up my tights I walked into the Kindergarten restroom ripped off my tights and eighty-sixed those bitches. Then I smiled. My co-workers laughed at me.

My little brother sketched my poster art that I need as part of our office Halloween decorations. Tonight I am perfecting my coloring skills. I read not long ago coloring makes you happy. So rain keep coming I have plenty of black crayon to work.

D got her H1N1 vaccine today. It was an insane sight when I picked M up from work at 430pm on the high school campus. Somehow someone up above loves King Ralph because when he finally managed to get on the campus parking lot to pick D up from school it was so close to the clinics start time (all the nutty parents who wanted their kids vaccinated and picked them up early from elementary school to form that crazy car line which blocked the entrances to the high school so the buses couldn't get on campus to get the kids) that he tossed her the form and sent her in for an inoculation for her to return five minutes later vaccinated. If those 1499 other vaccine seekers only knew D's ease they would have probably egged my car when I picked up M.

While D is vaccinated I am not, so I continue to ward off the beast that is trying to get me with my bottle of mucus relief , a tall glass of OJ and a bottle of Listerine.

I got an email from SubDiva that I won the Michael Buble CD constest. I am soon saying tootles to the "Jizz In My Pants" song in exchange for some joyful jazz. Thanks Diva!

Tuesday. Turned out to be a pretty good day after all.

The Curtain Comes Down

On Saturday I scooped the lung I was (and still am) hacking up and dragged myself to the high school to dress and bun hair of the color guard girls in preparation for the band's final competition of the season--Greater St. Louis Marching Band Festival.

While the kids have been "Running Out of Time" all season...I am glad the clock flags have struck midnight, I need a break from the constant go-go-go of weekend obligation. Don't get me wrong I love all the fun band season brings to our lives; it's just waking at 530am and driving to school at 610am is something the end of band season gladly vanishes from my schedule. I welcome its absence with open arms!

So I say good bye skip-its
and tick tocks with your difficult black spray paint. Tootle-a-loo grey suit and white flag with your red check mark Screeeeech!

There is no good-bye to band just yet we have a football game Friday night...THE football GAME of the season. The game that decides if the undefeated Lindbergh Flyers will be the District Champions. The game that determines if the clock flags keep spinning and the tick tocks keep on tocking during half time. Which means me and the wash machine will need to start churning those grey suit pants clean and pressed.

Maybe a great football game will help the kids forget they got fourth place at GSL. It was no doubt one of the band's best performances of what proved to be a rather difficult marching season.

Better make sure the blankets are still in the car and the gloves are in the pocket of my Nanook.

See you in the stands!

Birthday Wishes

Fifteen years ago today I went to the doctor, took Princess A and M to Taco Bell for lunch, dropped Princess A off at pre-school, picked her up, went to Target to purchase classroom Halloween party needs and went into labor in the check out lane a little early. Prior the days we owned cell phones I paged King Ralph who was at work. He called his mother who rushed over to be greeted by a panting pregnant woman in great pain. Forty-five minutes from the time I made the call to King Ralph D reared her tiny blackened strained little being into this world.

Her start was tough. Her toddler years tougher. She has however grown into a beautiful, smart, talented, amazing young lady. To that I say...

Happy 15th Birthday my baby girl! Now, get better. Postponing birthday fun is never what a mother and father want to have to do. Celebrating you is as much fun for us as it is for you.

Blogging Bedside

In the last several days I have had plans to tell you about the perils of crazy sock day and how King Ralph threw away my dish soap bottle (because he didn't like it) which pissed me off like no other--instead I am totally to tired to say much more than...D is pretty sick.


I pulled out the big gun last night after she coughed for two straight hours not allowing anyone in the house to slumber--codeine cough syrup. She slumbered, yeah. I was awake till 2am, boo.

Here's hoping she can snap out of it fast because tomorrow is her day.

(I'm feeling like the bug got a nibble of me. Just a nibble.)

The Beast Is Trying to Get Us

When I got home from work yesterday D felt so bad she asked me to cancel her piano lesson. Which I did.

This morning D requested to stay home. So I think I should take the advice of my co-worker's email. I am taking all and any suggested measures needed to stop the bug in its tracks.

What My Tummy Rumbled For

I had for dinner what I love.

Sushi.

What I am packing in my lunch box tomorrow is what I love.

Sushi.

With a sprinkle of soy sauce.

Coming Soon: Trick or Treat

I have a container of Candy Corn on my desk,yum-yum, quite symbolic of the season and holiday that is upon us. Wait, is Halloween a holiday?

Whatever Halloween is considered I love it! I love big bags of mini and bite size candies. I love the kids testing there Halloween jokes out on me during lunch--what kind of pie does a ghost like to eat? Boo-berry pie. I love eating foods synonymous with October--chili, sloppy joes, carmel apples. Scary spooky movies, haunted houses...no not that, not at all. I love searching for the perfect costume.

Did I just say costume? That I did. Which I purchased tonight (the most expensive costume I ever tossed the green down for). Halloween costumes no longer surprise me...Snow White bit that poison apple, got kissed by her prince and woke up a hooker. Cinderella too. The corpse bride looks like she turned enough tricks that she died of complication from gonorrhea. Even Dorothy seems to have skipped off the yellow brick road and onto the red light district. Hookerween at its best, every year, without fail. Even my costume came in the alternate slut-o-ween version. Which if I had chosen it would have sent me to the principal's office; maybe not so much for the lack of costume but more so for how I looked in it. I thankfully chose the full coverage-child-friendly version.

Every year we theme the office at work and all dress accordingly. I am rather excited about my costume choice this year and that our theme is my suggestion. I think the school kids are going to love it when they pass through on the annual tour .

I'm leaving my costume a total surprise. Only my girls, King Ralph and my co-workers know (so that we don't duplicate costumes) what I plan to be. The unveiling will be next Thursday...no school on Friday October 30, means Halloween fun comes to school a day earlier.

Try If You Must to Take the Esprit de Corps but You Can't Take The Moxie

There is always plenty of blame to go around anytime things don't go exactly as one had hoped, as one dreams to expect. There is also one thing no one should ever stand for and that is damaging the esteem of children in an effort to make one's self feel better for one's short comings, inabilities to produce and reach that one's level of personal expectation.

Friday was suppose to be a great day. In many ways it was. Princess A is home for Fall break. It was a half-day of school/work. I lunched out with my Princess A while M clocked a few hours in at work cranking out copies and D hung with her besties. Until...we headed to the high school for the football game--to see our Flyers remain undefeated--and that is when everything went emotionally wrong, that the days happenings were revealed with a big spill. A spill that needed a lot of mops to clean up with.

It seems a certain someone decided to reem on the girls for changes that were made just hours before. Changes that only fourteen of a group of hundred and eighty-four have to endure in an effort to boost scores. Comments made in the morning only in the face of two absent coaches. So, not only were there fourteen tender hearted hard working girls (who practice more than the other band members) riddled with hurt, you had two irritated coaches thinking "how dare someone" and a slue of pissed off parents who learned to bite tongue and rally the girls to rise up and prove wrong.

When the night was called early for band, in prep for the next day competition, at half time M was in tears and she had company. There is nothing that aches me as a parent more than when my girls hurt --physically or emotionally, when the hard work and dedication is squashed at the expense of elevating the ego of what I consider cowardly bully behavior. M cried till 11pm. No matter what Princess A or I said to make M see, understand or accept our words of reasoning the tears flowed. Know what I did? I punched in the code on the safe and yanked out that dam cell phone while King Ralph went for the phone charger and an emergency emotion booster. It took a wee bit of the edge off, a very wee bit. Then he sat on the edge of M's bed and rubbed her back till she slumbered.

Band was suppose to be the good ending to a hard week.

Then we woke at 5am, I bunned M's hair while she glossed up with blue eye shadow and apricot lip stick. To the Dome for BOA competition we went.

(There seriously needs to be rules implemented about how many early band calls you should have in one season. Two. Is one too many!)

To boost moral and spirit one of the Guard coaches wrote a nice story about geese as encouragement which inspires the essence of team spirit while the other spoke directly from the heart his words of can-do-go-get'm-spirit...then they did the best they could--considering.

No the kids didn't make BOA finals again this year. That's okay. Every year you can't be like Broken Arrow. Or even Oakville (as they recently have proved). Some years you just get to be the Flyers...that really truly is okay.

We look to the future, which is this coming Saturday..."we" includes the kids who perform and the parents who support. The support is for the ones who can, the ones who can't but do and the ones who try there damdest.

While M and a posy of band kids' goal this week is to rise above and to the occasion of GSL, I have a different agenda: to sleep, stop blowing my ever dripping nose, and to see sunshine in blue skies and feel warm air this weekend. Sitting on a fleece blanket placed upon an ice cold metal bleacher wrapped in my Nanook, clapping with gloved hands while sipping hot chocolate is never a goal for me this early in the Fall!

Tears are never to be a part of the occasion unless as a show of happiness and pride. Smiles ahead M, smiles ahead.

No One Said It Would Be A Picnic

Parenting has its peeks and valleys. This week I think the girls have taken us to the canyon.

Parenting is good cop, bad cop. Bad cop likes to confiscate all distraction devices. Real cop agreed it was all the option we had-- considering.

So friends text if you may, no one will respond. Facebook if you desire, no one will see what your "face" has to offer. Email too. No reply to receive. The world could blow and they will never know-- TV has gone black. Music? Naaaaaa, silence is all we hear. And the turning of text book pages.

Like I said the girls took us to the canyon. Since most canyons are formed by a process of long-time erosion...they have been eroding for a while and the river known as mom and dad had no choice but to flood.

Can't say I like this, it's just part of the job. The hardest non-paying job ever!

The Thing That Wakes Me

This past weekend I had the time off from my usual Fall routine of football and band to indulge in some cooking and cleaning. There is nothing I love more than:

1. the one free weekend of the marching band season

2. getting down on my hands and knees to scrub all my hard wood floors

3. welcoming in the cool, no cold, weather by whipping up some comfort foods

Now I am not sure if I was whipping up those comfort foods to fill our bellies or to comfort the pain of our beloved Cardinals sucking at baseball by giving away our chance at another try at"on the road to the World Series". I believe the answer is--both. Somehow my white chili and Shepard's Pie did the trick to fill bellies and ease our Cardinal pain.

Sunday evening after heaping helpings of Shepard's Pie and buttermilk biscuits, King Ralph and I headed to the grocery store to fill the cart with liquid goodness. There was bottles of blue Gatorade. White grape juice. Chicken broth. Milk of Magnesia. Miralax. With all this delicious liquid there is only one thing a man can do...ask his family not to eat around him on Monday as he prepares to starve himself in preparation for his first colonoscopy.

So here I am at 330am slumbering away only to be awakening by the sounds of a beast trying to escape the inners of my husband. A man who can do nothing more than crap blue Gatorade. I am by no means a light sleeper, but being woke by the movement of your partner's intestines is simply crazy! How long can one crap blue Gatorade? More than 12 hours it seems.

While I will drag myself to work, slap on a fake smile under my two dark sleep deprived bags; good ole' King Ralph will have a photo shoot via the hind end with a celebration nap in our warm comfy bed.

I'm feeling a little jealous. Of the nap part. And nothing else!

******
King Ralph has a beautiful colon and a pretty appendix. I think we will blow the pictures to 8x10's and frame them for display on the fireplace mantel.

Dear Dominic

Warning: The following post is Rated PG-13 when you play the video

Dear Dominic-
Today on the way home from work I decided to preview the CD you made for M. What a delight it was to know that you want to share and enhance my daughter's musical repertoire--because the great musical artist of the 70's and 80's I have enhanced her musical pallet with just aren't enough.

Oh dear Dominic, dear marching band friend, I wish you could have seen my face as song number one played filling the space inside my little blue Toyota. Was it my dropped jaw? My one squint eye? Was it the grimace that my mouth formed? Maybe it was the horrified laugh that over came me...actually it was every one of those looks that breezed across my face.

And, my grandmother thought Madonna's Like a Virgin was harsh.

I'm not sure who should be thanking you Dominic, me or M? To think I have about twenty more songs to go before I become a card carrying member of your "hip" music loving generation...God help, no save, me.

If ever there was a time for Puff the Magic Dragon, it might be now-- for me!

Musically (Aghast) Enriched,
Momma Avery

Student of the Month

If word gets out that included in the Student of the Month prize bag is a coupon for a free school lunch; I think the entire school body of students would start to strive for this high achievement.

In D's case she was bestowed the honor without having to be tempted. I suggested since her posy of friends are all bringers that they have a bought school lunch tasting with her coupon. The girls can sit around nibbling on mushy peas and a soy burger.

When Student of the Month was announced D's class was too noisy for her to hear. It wasn't until her next hour that she learned of her honor...people congratulating her for a reason she had to ask what she did.

It's nice that her sisters, who never have earned such a LHS honor, were all excited for their freshman sister. Even the one far away at school that calls to yell about her clothes she spots in pictures.

Good job baby!

FYI D: the honor does not exclude you from chores or cleaning your room. So hop on it, now!

Is There Really Such Thing As A Sick Day

I come to you from the couch while I use some of that accumulated sick time that shows on my pay check every other week.

I drug through work yesterday trying to convince myself I just had a marching band trip hang over but that was not the case at all. Last night after dinner I tried to visit my mother-in-law when King Ralph suggested about 30 minutes into our visit I go home, he would walk home when visitors hours ended. I took him up on the offer and within 20 minutes I was in bed and fast asleep, from 730pm till 6am.

While I slept soundly last night King Ralph said M and D had one of those sister bonding moments...moments that seem to happen more often now that they are both in high school together. As they sat on the ground with a lap top, creeping around on Facebook laughing together, he snapped a picture with his camera phone and sent it to Princess A. Next thing you know he said M's phone ringing, no mention of the picture, while one far away sister broke bonding time to chew them for invading her wardrobe options left at home. The left behind fashion of a college sister is under that "do not wear, do not touch" microscope and a picture is worth a thousand words. They really should stop taking photos, this happens all the time. I'm just glad I was asleep for this one.

This morning, dragging still, I had to take D to the doctor for an 830am appointment. She has had a funky rash under her arms for nearly three weeks that started creeping down the trunk of body. I diagnosed the rash myself because I think at times I got my M.D. when I got my m-o-m title. With out running off to spend the bank account funds on doctor office co-pays I bought a cart full of over-the-counter creams and ointments helping to increase Walgreens weekly profits. Sunday night when I was about to pull my witch doctor potion book from the shelf to brew up a magic cure King Ralph suggested I call the pediatrician. Once I managed to maneuver my way through rush hour traffic and question my sanity for making this early morning appointment (which I made so I could also get to work on time, till I took a sick day) I was crowned smart as a doctor...my diagnosis was dead on. D also left with three needle pricks--flu shot, Guardasil number 2 shot and a meningitis shot (because the doctor made a note that she wanted her to get that when they did the second Guardasil shot). Poor kid got more than she bargained for. We left with two prescriptions for antibiotics which I am sure are going to be top tier on the prescription co-pay scale. It's just a feeling as I haven't picked up the meds but, it is how my luck goes.

I needed this sick day as I lay on the couch listening to an alien trying to escape from my intestine while I work on my suppressed track skills. The fifty yard dash may be my calling. How long I get to lay here is timed by the calender--piano lessons, guard practice....

In other words there is really no such thing as a sick day--for a mom.

I'll drag the screaming alien along for the car ride.

Union Renegade Weekend Review

I had a great weekend. I know you all are thinking how does one have a great weekend trapped on a coach bus for a seven hour rides and hanging out with one hundred eighty four teens...but it was! Even though I am exhausted beyond description. I offer you the Union Renegade Review Flyers style.

When we left for Tulsa, Oklahoma, the Mecca of marching band, some of us felt as though we were jumping into the deep end of the pool without any floaties. Some left scratching our heads as to why our director entered us this competition. It didn't take much more than a good nights sleep in the Embassy Suites, a hot made to order breakfast, a good dose of caffeine, some snazzy band uniforms and some hair fashioned with bun magic to change attitude. The guard was ready to show off the new clock flags to all of Oklahoma, while as a whole band the kids showed what they had to offer.

I (along with lots of our parents) officially have high school football stadium envy. Union High School's stadium is sick! The whole school actually was sick. I think my kid's school is a fine establishment of education with nice classroom buildings and a grassy football field with suitable metal bleachers. However after sitting at the Union Tuttle Stadium from 11am-1030pm I am officially in awe of a town’s devotion to football and band, the amounts of money and donations that can drop into a high school facility. Score boards with video screens, memberships to the "Turf Club” with its catered pre-game meals, a two story all glass press box and a marching band with a near overflowing budget. Sick I tell you, all sick.

I will return in a few weeks to the Flyers Stadium to cheer on our undefeated football team, gaze over the grassy field as it fights off Fall with massive doses of water via the sprinklers. I will dance in the bleachers-- that come without a printed ticket or a seat number--to pre-game music blasted from our press box built of plywood and warmed by space heaters. I will listen to the pep music of the marching band that...that left Tulsa with a renewed spirit that they can compete and place high when in the company of the kings and queens of marching band world's greatness.

Yes friends we placed third in our division in prelims--which placed us fifth overall. Then we filled the bellies of our band with a hot dinner, warmed up the instruments for finals and took to the field under the moon and those massive stadium lights. Then the kids did it again.

One cool thing about this competition is that they offer a judge's review with your directors. For five minutes they can ask the judges anything and the judges will say things to the directors. One thing they said was our band has such a presence in our opening picture that they know something great is about to happen.When the bands all retreat out for finals awards we figured the kids would place fifth or sixth...accepting that would be fine being in the company they had been given. So, when they named the sixth place winner and then the fifth place winner and neither were our kids we braced for fourth. No fourth for us and I turned to my band mom friends and said "holy shitake mushrooms we made third?" Yep, third place for the Missouri band. The color guard got to perform there award routine when the drum majors were called to accept our pretty etched glass trophy…tis' a good day on Saturday in Tulsa to be a Flyer from Saint Louis--the only band brave enough in the United States not from Oklahoma to enter the competition.I love that when they dismiss the bands after awards (just like at BOA) the bands blend to congratulate and compliment one another. I love Robyn who helps me make bun magic, laughs at all my jokes and loves my text messages from the bus. I love, my, color guard girl.
And, I love ALL the color guard girls (even the ones who are not in this picture...where are you?).

Happiness Is...

Happiness is...

1. only having to work for two hours on a Friday.

2. my hair sporting its new fall/winter color.

3. my new bra!

4. Uli wanting to be playful and looking so cute.

5. Diet Coke in the morning.

6. doing laundry mid-morning on a Friday.

7. heading to Tulsa on a coach bus with 180 teenagers.


Point being, it is the simple things in life that offer happiness.

Roommate Roulette

My poor mother-in-law. If having to undergo surgery again on Friday evening to place a shunt and drain liquid collecting on her brain wasn't bad enough...mom just can't seem to win in the hospital roommate department.

When she moved from her private ICU room to the quad ICU step-down unit during her first hospital stay she ended up with "repeat Chris" for a roomie. Now, although you come to appreciate a head injury patient repeating random heard words ten times in row, it can be a slight bit annoying. Of course demanding Louise at the acute rehab was a welcomed good-bye. This time, this time mom got a doozy in the ICU step-down. An El Forastero motorcycle gang member.

Now the El Forasteroes will label themselves as a "motorcycle club" but the rest of the world would call them a gang. Motorcycle dude had a motorcycle accident, as the nurse often reminds him and since this group of cyclers are known for wearing skull caps one can only imagine the head injury the dude suffered was caused from poor head protection. It must be some kind of roommate because Uncle Dan informed me that mom was asking for two beers...my sister-in-law told her she has never drank beer in all the time she has known her. Motorcycle dude is driving my mother-in-law to drink (or want too). If it isn't bad enough that everything the dude says is preceded with an F-bomb (where are my f-ing boots,, my f-ing nose itches....) tonight he asked King Ralph's 12-year old niece for a pocket knife and screw driver. Hmmmm, mom it might be time to start sleeping with one eye open. Good thing dude is strapped down.

Reflecting now, Louise is looking like a treat after all.

There's No Place Like Home

Uli, our little Wizard of Oz dog went for a run today...well this morning before I left for work. I dorve around slowly for fifteen minutes on the look for her. She ran so long King Ralph took the day off work to hunt her down because he couldn't live with himself if he had to tell his daughters he left the front door open when he took the trash out. I guess after a while Uli began to think there's no place like home and she just appeared.

King Ralph then decided if she was to go on the run again she better run looking fine; so he took her to the doggie beauty parlor for a shampoo and style. While King Ralph was at the pet parlor he got what I am sure is more a treat for him then the dog. Uli will walked on a flipping HARLEY DAVIDSON DOG LEASH. If it is not bad enough King Ralph dreams and breaths that darn mid-life crisis in the garage, now the dog is marked with sign of the hog.

What am I going to do with the King?! He has lost it!!!

While the dog said there is no place like home, my mother-in-law says the same thing. Because when comparing the ICU at SLU Hospital--there, is, no place like home.

Two Phat Black Dresses

I wanted to humor you all with my LHS 80's blast from the past Homecoming picture, but as much as I tried to dig through boxes in the storage room I took to sneezing from collecting basement dust minus any luck of uncovering the artifact. Oh well, maybe another time.

When Princess A was in kindergarten she took our little three and a half pound Yorkie, Skeeter Bug, to school for pet day. Such an occasion of display meant our wee pouch needed a bath, brush and a leash for her parade of Princess A's pet pride...all happening in a matter of hours. It was the most traumatic day in ole' Skeeter Bug's life, she shook like a Fall leaf from a tree.

Freshman D had a Skeeter Bug day yesterday. She got her ears pierced--a suggestion of femininity she has fought for years, much to her sisters dismay. She got her fingers and toes painted--something she has put a fist up against since the day she came into this world. She got her tresses curled and held in place with much hair product and had a full face of make-up; all applied by her oldest sisters. Then she had moms snapping pictures of her with her dance date. Not to mention a living room full of high school juniors and seniors, boys AND girls, in unison singing out a sweet "ooooohhhh" when I announced her date was pulling up (as I saw from the window). She blushed and I thought it was a good traumatic day for my baby girl...looking all glam-glam in her layered black satin dress and silver heels. I believe her date got one of the prettiest girls for a dance .
And her besties where looking equally as glam

M and one of her besties and fellow guard girl (who was on the homecoming court) looking oh-so-fab-u-lous.
What warms my heart as a mom is that Princess A came home from college this weekend just to help her sisters get ready for the dance...two sisters so close in age yet have been so distant in likeness now finding a common shared ground--high school, and a homecoming dance

They Made the Ten O'Clock News

Lindbergh High School marching band chosen to play in Tournament of Roses Parade ksdk.com St. Louis, MO

Shared via AddThis

Where Did You Go To School?

I have no idea why my tired weary body thinks it should be awake at the five a-m hour on this Saturday. I suppose it has been wound tight like a clock always thinking it is "running out of time". Answering that famous St. Louis question "where did you go to school?" And, we all know that means high school, not college. Which means my answer would LHS, with this week being Homecoming.

How 'bout it friends, shall I share? A few photos of the last couple of days... saving my blast from the past and the present (tonight)for a tomorrow posting? You bet I am going too.

It is Homecoming here in the land of the Flyers. There was Thursday's parade-- the band's third place float (a fall from grace since they usually win first, but the band likes to share glory) and bon fire. I have never gone to the bon fire, can't remember if they had a bon fire in my high school Flyer days? I felt if at any moment Danny Zuko was going to appear.

With all the rain this week the band didn't have a very good half-time show. They hadn't had a full run through since Tuesday and spent Friday morning doing a Fox2 pep rally.

After the half-time show came the big moment. A moment we expected some word about in October, certainly not last night. Just like Princess A, during her Freshman year, M will be spending her [Senior] Christmas break 2011 marching down Colorado Blvd. in Pasadena, California in the Tournament of Roses Parade. Here's M the moment after the Tournament of Roses President called and it was piped over the load speaker for the entire crowd to hear the announcement of invitation. Now LHS Homecoming isn't just all bout M, it's about D this year as well. This is her high school now too.
Look who came home to let a little green and gold pump through her veins and enjoy the 38-14 win over the Lafayette Lancers...the Princess.
There was then...

And there is now...
'Cause remember in St. Louis it is all about..."Where did you go to school?"

Some of Us Never Leave

Homecoming? Well jeez, I don't feel like I ever left. I feel, no, I am certain all I do these days is drive through the parking lot making drop offs and pick ups...I'm always "coming home". I spend endless hours in a uniform closest and a "green room" coating my hands with hairspray. I spend my Fridays sitting on metal bleachers clapping my hands and singing a fight song. All for a good cause.

That's right folks it is Homecoming at Lindbergh High School. My alma mater. So, after last nights parade in the dark (which was a sad but attempted likeness of a Disney light parade)and a bon fire...I am preparing to fashion my Flyers spirit wear to work, then dashing to the "home" I can't seem to get away from--LHS.

GO FLYERS!

(I promise tomorrow to post a special treat of days gone by.)

A New Season

Good-bye summer. Long days of warm sunshine. Electric bills that reflect constant running of cool air pumped into the house. Grills smoking delicious meats and scrumptious home grown vegetables. Crystal blue pool water. And sunscreen with a coconut scent. Sandals. And sundresses. Margaritas and mojitos.

Hello autumn. Late sun rises. Early sunsets. Fire places to warm the home. Large pots of comfort foods boiling on a stove as homemade bread wafts from the oven. Monday night football. And Friday night football. Scent of cool crisp air. Leaves crunching on the ground. Luscious leather boots. And sweaters. Red wine and Bailey's.

Oh autumn be kind...for I am not sure I am totally ready to welcome you just yet.

Before and After

Like I have said a band field show is a constant work in progress.
Like the Skip-Its

Before Donna's magic

After Donna's magic


I love the Skip-Its!

Cloudy With a Chance of Marching Band

Panic.

I ironed from 10pm to 1130pm, all those darn white blouse. Oh let's do talk--white blouses.

Disaster!

Not the ironing, that was smooth and crisp. The blouses on the other hand; when I got to the competition warm-up area and saw the girls I freaked--skin, where skin should not be visible. And lots of it, every time they lifted the arms. Like duck tape safety pins are also color guard's best friend. So we moms pinned the tails of the shirts to the waist of suit pants. Then as they did the little dance in the third song (which for now is the end of the show) I saw skin. Safety pin failure. Not good! When the rain came and shoved us into the back end of the band trucks for dry cover--we talked new layer (and I learned my new cellulure device cause two point five hours is a long time in the back of a band truck). We have to have body suits. Just when I think I can stop being hassled and taxed by color guard performance uniforms, wham!, I am thrown back in the search again.

Rain.

I mentioned rain and I tell you a lot of it. Never ending rain. Enough to post pone prelims and cancel finals. We took second, tied first in drum line and the guard got third (one point away from second). We are happy. BTW all this info was relayed via a text message since we high tailed it out of there before awards. God only knew how long that rain was going to last. It may still be raining in Farmington for all I know. In my seven year history as a band mom this is the first rain out of a competition. Bummer.

Let's back peddle for a minute. I stopped to get M and the neighbor friend a Starbucks coffee since being at band for competition on Saturday by 7am is jolting to the system--caffeine infusion required. Only to back out of a nearly empty parking lot for my car to meet another. Crunch goes the little blue Toyota. Has NOT been my week! Just another to add to my list of I wish it wasn't so's. So, from now on girls it is Folgers and flavored creamer from the frig.

Now I will treat you to a band performance since I forgot my camera. Be kind to us. The show is still evolving. This week we add the fourth piece, the clock flags and the clock tarp to the field. Lindbergh's field show is never the same show twice.

Hear the Ticking of the Blurred Clock

The bags under my eyes are all part of a ploy for sympathy. Or maybe even a small stipend from my employer. I know I am district employee volunteering on behalf of daughter but hemming color guard show uniforms till 11pm, dreaming about those darn grey suits in my sleep and finishing the last two suits at 530am then rushing them to the cleaners by 7am-- shouldn't that be worth something?!

When I think I am in the clear for some R&R and a cocktail party over at Lin's-- I realize wherever I go I have to drag along my steam iron, ironing board and fourteen white cotton business shirts. Plus stop at Target to get five more tubes of L'Oreal Colour Riche Tropical Coral #444 lipcolor and a bottle of Downy Wrinkle Free-- all for the color guard.

Yesterday I asked the color guard co-director, who was in charge of getting the white cotton business shirts for the show uniforms if she wanted me to take them to the cleaners with the suits for a good heavy starch and pressing. She passed and said she would take care of things. Oh brother! If you want things done you have to do them yourselves. Maybe that is harsh, stretching it, but I should have taken a stance in favor of the shirts to the cleaners. So I rush out of work tonight dash to the cleaners pick up the last five suits go back to the high school match the suits with the proper garment bag for traveling... I see co-director hung the white business shirts with each girl's garment bag. YIKES! The shirts' appearance resembles the liking of having been rolled over, slept in, danced on...you name it fourteen shirts with more wrinkles than a Sharpei. Not acceptable for a field show. So, tonight, I stand ironing board side with a cocktail in hand. It is the only way I am going to remain with some level of saneness with all this last-minute-time-crunched-uniform-nonsense in preparation for tomorrow's first competition of the marching season.

Lin, I have to leave the cocktail party early, I hear the clock ticking...we have to report to school at 7am. Me with those darn perfectly pressed white shirts in hand.

As I leave the "lemonade stand" I raise my glass to us all--women of greatness. And insanity.

The Show Title Is Too Fitting

Running Out of Time. That is the show title for this year's marching band field show. The title speaks to me.

I wish I could sit here and type away, but I am "running out of time." Literally!

The last five color guard uniforms arrived in the mail yesterday. After work today I pinned them on each girl, between multiple runs to high school retrieving, dropping and attending meetings I have to hem and hem and hem and hem and hem....

So like I said, I wish we could talk but I have tons of thread to move in order to get the suits to the dry cleaner by 7am and ready for Saturday's first competition.

Running Out of Time!

(Did I mention I dragging dog tired? Cause I am.)

Say It Isn't So

I've read a lot of wacky news stories, but this one takes the cake.

Of course curiosity gets the most of all, so I clicked the "go here" option for a photo viewing. Which lead to a three year old article on the hot-to-trot senior babe and her man [of the hour].

It seems his time is running out? Or her money is drying up? He's restless. Maybe to young after all. All I know is it is hard enough to train and keep one man, husband, who wants to do it... twenty-two times. Twenty of her "other half" are still going strong. Well maybe not strong but at least kicking (or laying) around--somewhere.

Elizabeth Taylor can't hold a candle to this broad.

Uhg!

Laundry 101

Why is it that we allow our own busy lives to stop us from making time to be with friends?

I had the best Saturday. And the longest breakfast of my life. I met up with my old camp friends and talked the morning into the afternoon--a six hour breakfast date, with tons more talking that could have been done. We talked about our parents, husbands, kids, G's adorable grand kids, menopause, college life, Ellen as the new Idol judge (thumbs down)...and laundry.

Thanks to G's son, who is for the first time tending to his own laundry, I learned a whole new way to fold T-shirts. G told the story of how her son didn't know how to fold clothes so he Googled, "how to fold clothes." She intrigued us all with a folding technique I just felt I must learn for myself. Something to excite me into doing laundry (cause those who know me well know I hate doing laundry).

And so I Googled.

This is the what I found:

Now I can't stop doing laundry, looking for T-shirts in the girls laundry piles. I am suddenly addicted to folding T-shirts in this sort of laundry origami fashion.

I also left excited for the day I turn fifty, which is a ways off but still. Sitting with my girl friends I can tell wisdom, strength and increased confidence comes with the age.

Now anyone who says a six hour breakfast is crazy should know in the end we leave not just with our hearts filled with friendship but we leave with knowledge that will last a life time...and that we should never go three years between get togethers.

Ladies see you around Christmas!

Friday Jabber

I am so glad yesterday is over. Thursday is my new hell day of the week. I spend my time after work doing nothing more than shuttling the daughters back and forth from the high school.

This day, Friday, is bring my hubby to work day. That's right people King Ralph is going to school today. Since it is Heroes Day he was officially invited for an assembly of honor and a breakfast. Being the nice, loving and supportive wife that I am, I am going in early so I can sit next to him in the sea of small people. He has on clean pants and a crisp white shirt--he's looking the part. When I woke this morning thinking about this day, thinking how the school gymnasium will be full of police, fireman and other service workers there are tons of people waking on this day dreading the grief that floods their memories.

I've got to wear "real" shoes today. Yesterday when the "big guy" was in the house and I quickly turned my flip-flopping feet to a soft shuffle. Oh brother who wants to be busted on the job for wearing contraband footwear. I went into hiding. Then I looked at my co-workers feet and joy of joys I have much company. One said to me "J. Crew flops, can't wear J.Crew in the shower." Another said "these are my faves, not in the shower I could slide and slip." Of course my ever favorite line, is my own, "these are my new black flops I don't wear new shoes in the shower." Today's dress code is red, white and blue [jeans] with real-uhg-shoes today. I guess for the Heroes it is worth it.

However, after work (after I gaze at my new very clean windows that flood my home with sunshine) I will do a quick wardrobe change into my favorite spirit wear t-shirt and my yellow polka-dot chucks, cruise to the high school to dress the Color Guard. Because looking like a Flyer in the stands is important under the Friday Night Lights.

Can't We All Just Sleep?

Reasons the house that should be slumbering is not:

*King Ralph has a migraine.
*D is stressed about something she can't pin point so her insomnia is kicked in. (I have no trouble pin pointing the strain of high school classes on her mind.)
*I was told at 9pm by King Ralph that he needed a fresh work shirt [by 6am], so I sit listening to the wash machine churn away.
*I can't stop thinking about the Color Guard's show uniforms I ordered and when the last five are to arrive--just a few days before the first competition.
*I can't stop wishing I could crawl back in bed for an hour after I drive zero hour car pool. No chance the window guys will be here at the crack of dawn.

Since I am already tired before I wake for the day I am thinking Chinese take-out for dinner.

Men@Work

There is a generous breeze blowing through my front windows this morning. Wait. I don't have any front windows, I have three huge open cavities with a man on a ladder standing in front of each. Oooo, I am so excited as this is the day I can say good-bye to the windows I stopped cleaning long, long ago. I would have needed a blow torch to blast the forty-two years of build up off them. After today I will be able to bend in my windows and rub them clean. I will be able to see that there are houses across the street. I will be able to spy on my neighbors--not that I have any desire to, but just in case I want to I will be able to see everything-- clearly. The sunlight will permeate through the house. The bonus in all this is someone somewhere thought it would be a good idea to give me a tax credit for my new energy efficient windows, $750.

Dancing On Tables Allowed

The "Clapper" brought me, continues to bring me so much joy I decided I needed another one of life's make-it-easier-on-yourself-gimmicks. The girls are laughing at me. King Ralph rolled his eyes when I tossed them in the shopping cart. However, I don't care how many eyes roll and how many tears develop from laughter over my special treat I purchased for myself. As I dance about I say stuff like "Seen on TV." I am loving my treat! The Slipper Genie.

M told me I needed to make a Slipper Genie dance so I could take dusting our wood floors to a whole nother level of cleaning fun and entertainment. Like dusting floors has ever been entertaining? Or fun? I worked up a whole Slipper Genie routine only to turn a spin out and see M lying at the bottom of the steps dying in laughter. There is a possibility that Slipper Genie could contribute to some weight loss and fitness training for me. I could use that.

I searched YouTube to see if anyone made a movie about the Slipper Genie. There is a multitude of them to chose from but I love Erin O'Brien's most of all. We are kindred slipper souls. Unlike Erin I got a deal minus a coupon on my Slipper Genie, just $5.99 at the Cape Girardeau Wal-Mart (they are probably cheap in case a college kid decides to buy them and clean those dorm room floors). I Googled Slipper Genie and see they also come in lime green. Mine, like Erin's, are hot pink. I painted my toe nails to match. Odds are I am as dorky as Erin while floor surfing dust in my Slipper Genie.

Wish I could spend a lot more time sharing the praises of my new footwear but I've got floors to walk and dust. And, maybe a few tables I could kick the dust off with a few of my new Slipper Genie dance moves.

Friday Night Lights

"Friday Night Lights" brings us the first Flyers home football game of the season and a winning game to boot, 24-14. Go Flyers! I love the guards new "skip-its"; not a technical or official name for those custom propeller looking apparatuses just a moniker for them given by some dude in the drum line. They look so cool as they spin in different directions and will really be awesome when they have gotten there full fashion make-over. The first football game is the beginning of a show in progress. It only gets better from here. The performance silks are soon to arrive. The performance uniforms...let's just not go there for a while--it stresses me! Funny I mention the crunch to get all the guard stuff together since, this year's show is titled "Running Out of Time".

It's Thursday

The best part of Thursday is waiting for Friday to come along. I sure could use a long weekend I am feeling woren down . It has been a week of absolute craziness of running here and there; which is just what I will do more of today. I am so ready to stretch out and relax in nature, breath in fresh [allergy ridden] air, play Yahtzee and Catch Phrase, listen to birds sing and crickets chip while living in--for the weekend--a box with my family. Oh ya, this family is going camping! We heart our camper. We'll make campfires and sing Spice Girl songs, maybe even a little Dionne Warwick (to drive King Ralph mad). We'll roast marshmallows and smash them between graham crackers. But...not till after our first football game Friday night.

Friday night football games mean going from work right to the high school were I stand bunning hair and passing out eyeshadow all in the name of Color Guard. I eat a dinner of nacho chips and cheese lard--cause everyone knows nacho cheese at a concession stand is the farthest thing from cheese. I'll be sporting my Flyer's spirit wear with my blue jeans while taking in the half time show. I'll cheer for a winning game for my alma mater. It's "Friday Night Lights".

But before I even dream of Friday I need to pack lunches, get my [expired] driver's license renewed and come up with something to cook for Thursday dinner.

Hurry up and get here Friday!

The Never Ending Saga

I have been doing the eye doctor dance with M since she was four months old. So far she has three surgeries under her belt. Nothing we love but always necessary. It's claim to a blue ribbon.

Today we will rush from high school and work to beat the traffic to make it to-- the eye doctor, again. We spend so much time chatting on the phone and in the in his office I am afraid he may want to draw straws to make M a dependant on his tax return. (I mean we eat cake in the staff lounge, with the staff.) Lately we have increased the strength of M's eye glasses, changed her contacts up and down in strength, gone from contacts to solely wearing eye glasses...nothing is working. She has a picture she snapped off TV of "Crazy Eye" from Mr. Deeds to share with our favorite doc; this is what M says she feels and looks like. I tell her "no", you are no crazy eye. You are a beautiful brown eyed girl.

M has a plan for the doc today: she'll take a life of double vision if he can make her eye not drift. I have a plan: I want it all fixed, without a fourth surgery. That's just the mother in me. Although I will do what ever it takes to make her feel whole and as humanly perfect as one can want to be.

This is one battle in life I plan on winning! Sooner than later.

Dear Lin's Friend's Uncle Tim

Dear "Uncle Tim"-

I was chatting with your favorite relative's friend last week. We discussed your feelings and opinion on flip flops in the work place--being that they have been placed on the fashion ban list at my place of employment. I asked that favorite relative of yours if I bejeweled and bedazzled my flops if that would count as "shoes you wouldn't wear in the shower". And, well, she flips me this quote on my flops in the work place from your fashion tips book Guide to Quality, Taste & Style-- it reads:'And then there's the flip-flop phenomenon. Ugh. How is it that these slabs of rubber can proliferate so, even in winter? Where is this taking our society and culture other than into a long and winding fashion decline?' Then that favorite relative of yours threw a knife at my heart and wrote this: So, flip-flops are a big NO, Jodi. Sorry. Sparkles or no sparkles. :("

Ouch! I don't just mean ouch from the knife I pulled from my flip flop loving heart but, ouch on my feet. You see "Uncle Tim" I wore some fabulous cream leather Sam & Libby chunky heeled sandals that were collecting dust in the back of my closest last week and then today I wore some adorable kitten heel black leather strappy sandals embellished with a black leather hibiscus flower...okay Uncle Tim your quote, them are fighting words. I HAVE HAD BLISTERS ON MY FEET TWICE NOW JUST SO I CAN'T BE ACCUSED OF WEARING SHOES I CAN SHOWER IN. JUST SO I CAN LOOK THE PART AND BE A RULE FOLLOWER. I HAVE BAND AIDES PLASTERED ALL OVER MY FEET. I LOOK LIKE A KINDERGARTNER WHO MET UP WITH A LAWN MOWER. I JUST DON'T LIKE YOUR FASHION RULE, YOUR DISDAIN! I NEED TO CHASE LITTLE PEOPLE ON THE PLAYGROUND (and some days dodge vomit from the kid who eats to fast).

I wanted to post a picture of my cute fashionable shoes to prove I can go outside my comfort zone. However it would be a picture of my bandaged feet covered in the sticky strips of flesh colored tape just accentuating my much needed pedicure.

Watch out world (well mostly my employer), I am ordering myself a treat and I am gonna sparkle and bling up everything that can make a "rubber can proliferate". When winter comes I might fore go on getting myself a new [replacement] pair of luscious black leather boots (last years I wore down) and wear CROCS! HA!!

So if you happen in my office and begin to think this girl hasn't moved much today...it just might be because I am hiding my comfortable feet from the Principals.

Sincerely,
The Elementary School Building Assistant with Blisters on her Feet From Fashion Forward Shoes