Amend

My hair.....

Okay so I have been having a bad hair week, not so much by the standards of others but to myself I am--having a bad hair week. So today I decided the heck with it, no it was more like the hell with it. I just washed, rubbed totally twisted curl scrunch gel in and out the door I went. It was what I referred to as my "rock star hair". What I loved most about this totally careless, non-coiffed hair style was the statements by the students and some of my fellow co-workers.

Here I go, listing my favorite comments.

Paula: "Wow your hair, that is what I call unplugged"

Sean: "your hair...did you wake up at 2am?"

Kat: "nooooo, I'm not liking it. It looks like you just got out of bed"

Jordyn: (while looking up at me strangely) "wacky hair"

3rd grade boy: "did you style your hair to look like Gene Simmons? Do you know who Gene Simmons is"

Me: "I know who Gene is I grew up listening to Kiss, I was actually going more for a Ted Nugent look"

I think in spite of all the comments my big, and little friends voiced I am going to wear my rock star hair on Monday too. Just to nerve them all.

With that said....rock on.

Simply, Thoughts

I need caffeine!

If I were to die today I would hope heaven would look like Nordstrom's shoe department.

This morning I expressed myself with such eloquence and honesty--I surely made my daughter proud. (It felt g-r-e-a-t to get that off my chest.)

My hair--I am having not a bad hair day but a bad hair week.

I want to lose the goose down coat at recess in exchange for a pair of walking shorts and flat sandals.

Does Redneck Outweigh Romance?

I have just subjected myself to what has to be hands down the reason and cause for the writer's to have ended the strike--CMT's Big Redneck Wedding. Of course a show like that has a way of sucking you into its Saturday afternoon marathon run.

It wasn't until the second episode that I lost my slack-jawed awe and let myself roll in laughter. The green wedding dress accented by a camo veil was breath taking. I then began taking careful notes in the case my daughters bring home a redneck to marry. I will refute any suggestion of serving beans and corn bread at the reception, with a chance the groom may say, “the beans are starting to work on me.” With side dishes of pigs-in-a-blanket, pickled pig’s feet (still in the jars) and pork rines (by the bowls)--sides like these put tossed salad and green bean almandine to shame.

By the third episode of the marathon I was fully immersed. If you live within 100 miles of me you could probably hear the sound of my laughter at the redneck couple from Florida as they went gleefully--well not so much the bride because she lacked any, if not all ability to smile--to the pet and feed store to purchase the groom's wedding attire. Oh yes, and the grooms men’s fresh camo. The maid of honor, sister of the bride, was less than pleased at the bride’s maid's fashion of denim mini skirt and camo colored camisole (thank God one person in the episode had quality taste). The sister did not hide her sarcastic tone in the nail salon as her redneck sister proudly rambled about the beauty her wedding was to behold. Let me say there is nothing more moving then men making way to the alter by means of an ATV, followed by the bride on her horse. Which if I may add the dismount in the bridal gown was beautiful; I gave her a five out of ten. With the guest seated on there truck tailgates…you couldn’t have dreamed this picture if you tried. But what had me hooping a holler was the entertainment--mattress surfing and mud wrestling. Yes I said mattress surfing; a twin size mattress attached to the back of an ATV like a sled and being spun around in a grass field. You’re thinking, now why didn’t I think of that for my wedding reception? I tell you why you didn’t think of it because the frat boys already have… for rush week.

My favorite lines this couple allowed to be captured on film were:
Bride- "ya we met 6,7,8 years ago"
(King Ralph even laughed at the gal who couldn't, exactly, remember when she met her redneck prince.)
Groom- "honey let's go constipate this here marriage".
(I guess a night of mattress surfing and mud wrestling your mama in a blow up kiddie pool would constipate any groom, and bride.)

This friend is why the writers needed to end the strike. America could not, should not be allowed to subject themselves to a TV marathon event of --The Redneck Wedding.

To quell my wedding fears I just returned from seeing 27 Dresses. It restored the fact that I am, at heart, a terrible romantic.

It's a Record

Not quite worthy of The Guinness Book of World Records but, defiantly a record for me.

I have managed to remain nearly firmly planted in my martini flannel PJ's since I put them on Wednesday night. I have peeled them from my skin only to color my hair, shower and change underwear.

I must say...that I am loving it! Even if you all think this makes me a lazy-useless-bum. I was merely paying homage to mother nature's blessing of double snow day.

Oh yes, another snow (ice) day!

We are definitely in the snow day hole now.

If I had to drive to pick up my pay check for the week I would spend it all in gas driving to pick it up. No school Monday. Half day Wednesday. Snow day Thursday and Friday. How do I tell King Ralph about the prom dress I bought Princess A on Wednesday night? I don't think I earned enough to justify the cost--to him. But the dress is magnificent! I will devise my plan while I continue my snow day retreat-- while wearing my PJ's.

By the way, the only requirement for a snow day retreat is to brush the teeth and change the underwear.

Happy Snow-Ice Day.

Jodi Jots

Since we are having a snow day, or an ice pellet day, I have plenty of time (between loads of laundry) to list some recent observations/thoughts. So here I go with another one of those who-really-gives-a-crap lists.

1. When I was a stay-at-home mom the heels of my feet where like sand paper from walking around barefoot. Now that I work and make use of all my cute unsensible shoes the balls of my feet feel like the padding on a dog's paw and my heels are soft.

2. My laundry room looks like a bomb went off in there. If you are the kind of person who fears death I couldn't let you step foot in.

3. The people in my house either think things put themselves away, I will pick up after them or they really just don't care about living amongst there clutter.

4. No one in my neighborhood is brave enough to tackle the ice pelleted streets...except King Ralph.

5. Why some teenagers think it a good use of cyber space to air there negative feelings on-line with the use of flowered words?

6. A day off without pay is a good day to rekindle a love for Heathcliff. I am going to watch Wuthering Heights between loads of laundry.

7. Why do I wash more clothes than 5 people can actually dirty in a seven day time span?

**breaking to heed to the buzz of the dryer**

8. When it comes to Project Runway's season finale-- patience is not my virtue. I love Rami!

9. I don't think I should keep King's Ralph gift of the replacement diamond earrings. (I love them, I just don't feel the spending of moneys for spoiled luxuries at this moment in life.)

10. I think my girls are gorgeous. Considering the amount of beauty sleep they are taking in on this snow day they will be, may even surpass, Vogue cover quality by the time they finally wake.

11. I am running out of liquid laundry soap so I may have to find a different chore to occupy me on this snow day.

12. My PJ's have now molded themselves to my body signaling the necessity to remain in them all day. That is good living!

woMAN IN BLACK

I must have been channeling Johnny Cash, Man in Black, this morning when I got dressed. Black long sleeve t-shirt. Black trousers. Black socks. Black shoes--new, "sensible" shoes. The only thing not black was my pasty white skin screaming for a trip to the Florida sun. Soon. Very soon.

Hail to the Chiefs of Past

President's Day. A national holiday that I, today, came to appreciate more than ever before. A day off work. I needed this long weekend.

Saturday I spend the day sleeping. The whole day sleeping. While everyone I come in contact with seems to have some form of the flu which accompanies a fever...I have escaped the fever part but the head congestion and unexplainable fatigue did not pass me by. So, after my nearly 24-hour nap I feel like a peach again. My body just was screaming to shut down. I obliged.

Sunday I spent the day taxiing Maddi from study group to baby-sitting to the WWE No Way Out (I still don't get the whole love for wrestling) party. For [my] $10 share of the pay-per-view premier-- I got a play-by-play recap of each match on the car ride home. I personally prefer the female wrestlers...they are like legalized prostitution without the intercourse, dressed all in there hot sexy little latex numbers tossing each other around. Then again maybe they are actresses not yet good enough for the soap opera arena. I also had four seventh grade girls slumbering in the basement. They were as loud as a Friday night in a crowded bar. Four girls so loud for two hours and then, suddenly, silence. Oh to be a giddy teenage girl all over again.

Then there is today. Hail to the chiefs of past--especially George and Abe who we honor most on this day of no banking or mail delivery. I plan to remain in pajamas for as long as I can. Maybe do a little laundry. Read. Then catch up on my TV--Scott Baio 46 and Pregnant and My Fair Brady...Maybe Baby. Reality TV at its best. (hear me laughing) So in honor of presidents past I thank you for the day off from life.

Valentine Re-enactment

Twenty-one years ago King Ralph purposed on this day. So this past weekend while I was at Union Station (the location of the proposal) I re-enacted the moment for all the kids.

Per the instructions of King Ralph under the glow of the moon, I closed my eyes, tossed a penny over my shoulder into the pond and made a wish. I had to say the wish out loud. My wish was someday we would get married. So when I opened my eyes and there he stood with diamond ring in hand I was flabbergasted. A surprise I did not expect--but did not resist the answer of "yes".

Today was another Valentine surprise--I honestly feel that Valentine's Day is a woman's holiday, so I didn't feel to bad that all I got King Ralph was a Barack Obama card-- I got diamond earrings. I was not expecting to be spoiled in such fashion. I lost one of my diamond earrings; I think down the shower drain several weeks ago, that I have had for 15 years. King Ralph handed them to me in a Victoria Secret bag. I was like, ooooh Victoria Secrets...M being the usual quick wit says, “he tore the free panty card from a magazine". Turned out King Ralph was just rummaging in closets for anything that resembled gift-wrap. To accompany the ear jewels was the sweetest card.

Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. ~Author Unknown

King Ralph caught my heart!

Then I proceeded to crawl back to the couch with my headache and fatigued body--I work not at a school these days but in an infirmary--and it is catching up to me.

Happy V.D

Jumping for Jesus

We took the Youth Group downtown to the Survive Dare 2 Share convention. It was a gathering of Christians of all faiths--although as the conservative Lutherans who witness faith in a quieter fashion, God certainly did plop us down into a mosh pit of born again Christians. No offense meant I respect everyone’s denomination of faith and how those chose to express it. Some of the messages expressed--our group just didn't jive with. This doesn't mean that fun was not had, because it certainly was. It brings up questions that young people need to answer. Some speakers grasped the attention (like ex-Colts linebacker Derwin Gray) more than others and the Christian rock bands got claps and cheers. Lives were touched.

I have to say that the after lunch sex presentation left Steve (my leader partner) and I a little scared. I mean an amish dude popping out of a box with an accordian rapping about STD's and crotch bugs that make you itch was just a bit too much for us. I understand the need to preach to teens that their bodies are there temples and deserve to be treated as such. Just not by the use of a amish dude rapping about disease and crotch bugs. Why an amish dude? (I keep hearing Steve's voice in my head as I type saying "ooooh brother") Then the speaker went on to tell the kids how their parents are having "hot sex" and "lots of it all the time"--because that is what "married" people do. Truth lays there--the married part, not necessarily the hot or all the time. I was doing okay with the idea that my girls didn't think there parents did it at all--or just three times.

Then I began to feel like I was no longer at a convention and suddenly plopped down into a revival. I dare to share. I have no problem telling someone I believe in Christ. So when the convention asked the attendees to go door to door collecting canned goods followed by the question "do you know where you are going next, heaven or hell"--we declined, felt it was not our youth groups calling. Really if someone came to my door asking me such a question I would think coo-coo, nut-so in the neighborhood. When we returned after "our" long break of picture taking and pizza, we got to hear people witness the experiences they had of "saving" people through the can good collection. I don't know if I should call myself cynical for thinking this but...I really don't believe that you can ask someone for a can good donation ask them if they are going to heaven or hell, preach the gospel on the door step and suddenly you stand before a person saved through Christ or canned corn. Isn't going from a non-believer to a believer a journey? Well, that is what I believe. So, when the young man got up and said he witnessed "five salvations" by the mere passing off of chicken noodle soup in a can...I started to feel in my heart something was being lost in translation here. Very well someone may have been down and out that day, the faces on there door step may have given cause to reevaluate life but to say one person witnessed the salvation of five lives....

Instead we decided God's calling for us was to bond. Just be silly, crazy and have some fun. So we call this one--Jumping for Jesus.

THE GIRLS


THE GUYS


THOSE THAT LEAD


THE FACE OF TWO WEARY CRAZED ADULTS

A Loss for Title

While King Ralph lays on the couch surrounded by used Kleenex and pill bottles--occasionally we dip him and the things his flu ridden body touches in Lysol...life shows a worse picture.

There is nothing harder for me to absorb than the killing of cops in the neighboring community to the one that employs King Ralph. A community with a picture perfect suburban atmosphere...landscaped schools,museums, boutiques, restaraunts-- a community were "things" like this shouldn't happen. Sadly the world has no boundaries for where crime touches. The word to describe tonight is "disbelief".

Then I think could this be our family? It very well could be. We hope not. Never. It is days like this, sadly, that remind me why I always have dirty laundry piled up. Dirty white undershirts that smell a scent of Sgt. Sausage Fingers. Because I never know if the day may come when I won't be able to smell the skin but, instead bury my face into the white T-shirt to take in a scent I love so dearly. As a wife/mom I sit here in sadness for the families that answered the doors to the knock no police officer's family wants to open up for. Tonight is a night when God's love is certainly in high demand.

SUPER TUESDAY

I really do suffer from electile dysfunction--when the 2008 candidates fail to arouse. Regardless I am heading to the shower...so I smell good when I cast my vote...because my vote counts...it matters.

Army Insects, Sensible Shoes & Politics

Way to go G-I-ants! We had a full house last night...and full stomachs. No New England fans allowed. Before we all respectfully--with patriotism and honor to our country—rose, removed hats and sang the national anthem Optic Man called his bookie and we all placed bets. I never knew Optic Man had a bookie but lucky for us he was giving a 12-point spread which made us feel more at ease to cough up $50 that turned into a $100. For the half time show we demonstrated our love of the half time show by lowering the lights, opening our cell phones and singing along with Tom Petty--"Free Falling." (I am going to resurrect my Tom Petty CD).

Dave the night custodian refers to my brown leather alligator skin like boots as my dominatrix boots. I disagree. They are instead totally fashionable. The fashioneesta daughters after all approved them--it can't be better than that for a mom. Today however I might have to question there work style wear. I was doing my lunch duty, wiping a table after the kindergarten class was dismissed...I slipped on a red grape...I went down. Feet up in the air, slamming butt down on the tiled floor. My ego remains in tact since the only one keen enough to pay a bit of attention to me was my little brother. Which he did not refrain from laughing and commenting on the poor choice in footwear. Sensible shoes? I say bologna. Women have bled more for fashion than by wearing my fashionable, stylish, I-love-m boots. It was totally the fault of the red grape...maybe I will go as far as to say the kid who brought the red grapes in the lunch box.

I just answered the phone...it was an automated political campaign announcement...help me understand here how John McCain being a "millionaire" has anything to do with his stance on abortion rights or Huckabee's need to tell me this during one of his campaign blitz? It is nice to know that Huckabee has always been true to his Pro-Life belief but his automated message that has to throw in that McCain is a millionaire has NOTHING to do with Pro-Life or Pro-Choice. Aaaaaahhhhh! Please don't waste my time with hidden mudslinging.

If you'll excuse me it's time for dinner. Super-Bowl-the-Giants-won-leftovers.

Winter Funland

It almost seems like we have had more sizeable snow falls this year than in winters past. I can't remember the last winter when we were able to go sledding two months in a row.

Last month when we went sledding King Ralph stood at the top of the hill dressed as Sgt. Sausage Fingers admiring our sledding talents. This snow fall he joined us. Well, really he tried to join us...turns out he has lost his aero dynamics. The girls were looking for mud tracks on the bottom of the sled. The grooves his sled left in the snow as it putted down the hill were like no other. Poor guy, as much as he wanted to play snow dad he just doesn't have the talent.

Instead he gave the girls a shove for a bullet ride down the hill...


Then the wipe out...


When you lose your aero dynamics you make a great target...



Just to prove I am a mom who always joins in the fun...


While holding a smile...

Snow Day

I can't be certain if it was the ice cubes that were flushed down the toilets or if it was the orange (still) in the freezer, regardless it's a SNOW DAY!

What do you do when you get a snow day from work and school? I wake at the usual 5am then slip back to bed around 7am and sleep till 10am, snuggled in my bed with the heated mattress cover--is winter perfect. Two of the three girls are awake. A princess it seems needs more beauty rest--then the rest of us. I think I will wash my kitchen floor. Maybe do a few loads of laundry. I will make my super bowl party grocery list. By the look of my unplowed neighborhood street getting out of here to go sledding is going to be a bit of a challange. When they do finally "free" us--I have the sleds by the door, and a thermos ready to fill with hot cocoa.

Who doesn't love a snow day?!

*****
3pm Have you ever lived across the street from a neighbor who has a perfectly manicured lawn? The flowers are planted and arranged to resemble the botanical gardens? Or likes to come out with his freaking snow blower while you are out digging your concrete driveway free with a shovel (or two)? I live across the street from that neighbor. I think we all wanted to give him the finger--even though he is a great neighbor-- as he easily blew the eight inches of snow not only from his driveway but down the sidewalk; in both directions. It is like he waits till we have shovel in hand to blow his snow. His silent way of saying my life is easier today than yours. Son of a...Son of a...Son of a gun. I'm being a nice neighbor.