Sandy Toes, Salty Kisses, and Butt Support of the American Revolution

I suck.  I suck, I suck, I suck.  I really want to be better at this blogging regularly but blogging occasionally is a hell of a lot better than not blogging at all.  Funny, I feel the same way about exercising as I do about blogging.  I think about it a lot, but don't actually get around to it a lot.  I saw something online today that said "I am fat because a tiny body couldn't hold all this awesomeness."  I feel this way about 50% of the time.  The other 50% of the time I wonder if chairs will hold me and if I will fit through certain places.  This was especially true on our recent vacation to Virginia Beach and Colonial Williamsburg.  The day we arrived I felt tremendously self-conscious and we didn't even put our swim suits on.  Day two I warmed up to the beach and stopped worrying about what I looked like and enjoyed myself.  I'm not very happy that there are pictures to prove this beach vacation but whatever.  When we left the beach and headed to Colonial Williamsburg, I thought I was in the clear - no such luck.  I forgot about one thing - the dreaded Colonial chair.  Not only did many of the Colonial doors into the Colonial buildings open in the middle only giving you half the Colonial doorway to squeeze through, but there were these chairs - Colonial chairs - that are historically accurate to the Colonial time period in material and construction.  Apparently, I am not historically accurate to the Colonial time period because these suckers hurt.  They were about half the size of my butt with knobs that poked in some not-so-comfortable places.  And that was just the design.  The materials used to make said chairs would creak and snap and basically make you feel like its the soundtrack to your ass falling on the Colonial floor.  But I survived and promised myself that I would get back in the gym as soon as the patella femoral tendonitis I had was healed.  That and as soon as the gym we joined was back in business after THE TORNADO!  That's right!  We joined a gym down the street and within a month I had hurt myself and shortly thereafter the gym was hit by an EF1 tornado.  Luckily, we were not there.  Even though it was our usual day and time to go, we didn't.  But I'm thinking there's no way more direct for God to say be happy with who you are first and if you then still want to change yourself - all the better - than with 100mph rotating winds.  So as the gym heals and I heal, I tried to take stock of my self-worth and self-esteem and realize that I am fine.  I like me.  No, I love me.  And I want to slowly but surely improve me - for my health and my family, not for vanity or appearances.  And if I ever find a time machine or develop a means for time travel, I will omit the Colonial period as a destination option. 

It Ain't Alcatraz

First off, let me say that I in no way feel any dislike toward the people of Oklahoma but WTH?  Are your prisons made of nerf?  Ever heard of bars or guards or locks?  I ask this because on my social media feed, I receive updates from an Oklahoma news channel.  Having lived in Oklahoma for a couple of years, I found it interesting to get the local low-down on the what's up in Okie Dokie Land.  Anyway, daily, ok maybe weekly, it seems that the police in OKC have surrounded a house containing a suspect believed to have escaped from so-and-so prison.  I guess I was young and naive when I lived there because I don't remember Oklahoma being one of our more dangerous states unless your talking tornadic terror.  I just don't get how all of these people keep escaping.  Hubby says that they are most likely on a work detail but don't they still have guards with them.  And we all know that Oklahoma guards like their guns.  Why don't they just shoot them?  Then Hubby reminded me that its not the guards in Oklahoma that like their guns, its the police.  See when we lived there, an elderly man with dementia on his front lawn weilding a weed-eater was shot several times to his death when he charged police with said weed-eater.  Now, man charged with assault trying to escape prison or elderly man with a weed-eater - which one would you shoot?  And they aren't just escaping prison.  They are doing it with flair.  I recall a posting from a few weeks ago about a young man who escaped prison and went to a local fire department and stole a fire truck.  The posting told anyone seeing a man in prison garb driving around in a fire truck that "well, you know what to do".  At first I thought this was a very nonchalent treatment of the situation but upon further consideration, I think it was an invitation for the gun-toting populace.  I think it was Oklahoma code for shoot him yourself.  This may not be a bad idea because I have often wondered what would happen if one of those major Oklahoma twisters hit a large penitentiary.  But maybe that's why so many Oklahomans have guns.  They are just waiting to hear that secret code.  So take caution who is around next time you say "you know what to do".  You may just open a whole can of worms - worms with guns who are ready to take you down.

That's Ms. Smurfhead to You!

I did it!  I went and got my green hair fixed and now it is a nice smurfy blue.  I love the way it looks.  And I was even there in a thunderstorm watch and I didn't freak out.  The only down side is she wanted to dye all of my hair which did freak out about a little bit.  I like my natural hair color with the blond and the red mixed in with the brown but she really wanted to do the whole thing so she could "do it right".  I don't mind it.  I really haven't looked at it much because I really don't like to look in the mirror much.  But I'm sure its ok.  Hubby said if I don't tell people that they won't even know but I'm not so sure about that.  I am telling all of you so that kind of negates that.  The worst part was when I was finished.  See our daughter had a function at the school at 6 and my appointment was at 4 and was supposed to last until 5:30.  Well, it lasted till 6.  Right when my hubby was taking my daughter to her function a good 15 minutes away.  So I had to wait a nice 20 -25 minutes in this lady's house just sitting there akwardly talking to her and her sons.  It wasn't bad it was just . . . well . . . weird.  But I'm happy with my hair and that's what matters.  I smell like a chemical reaction.  I may just be getting high off my hair but I have this sudden urge to sing la la la-la la-la la la-la la la. 

Here Comes the Bride and the Tornadoes

Well, I got my voice back.  Most of it at least.  Just in time to run screaming into my basement away from the tornadoes we are expected to get here today.  Every November, we get one bout of severe weather.  Its like spring in the autumn.  From what the weatherman/woman says - today is our day.  I should be thankful.  With as busy as we have been lately, it is amazing that it is happening on a day where we have nothing going on.  Last week was a college visit.  This past weekend was an out of town wedding.  Tomorrow another college visit.  So I guess if I had to schedule in some severe weather on my calendar, today is a good day.  It is amazing that on Friday it was cold enough to be snowing and now its balmy enough for severe weather.  Then again we were about three or four hours north of Suburbia so I guess that could have something to do with it.  It was a nice trip.  Up on Thursday with a college stop along the way.  Wedding on Friday.  Back to Suburbia on Saturday.  A nice little getaway.  The wedding itself was beautiful.  The service just the right length of time.  The mood just light enough to be humorous yet personal and romantic.  The bride was glowing and the groom was grinning.  I have to admit I almost cried a few times.  Why am I such a sap?  We've only known the bride since she was in high school - possibly younger, I can't really remember life here in Suburbia without knowing her and her family.  So, I want to take this opportunity to say Congratulations to Marion the Librarian and her Music Man.  May you have love, laughter, and happiness through all the days of your life together.  Oh, and you make me feel old.

I'm Mister Green Christmas. I'm Mister Sun. I'm Mister Heat Blister. I'm Mister Hundred and One.

Man is it hot outside!  I don't know about where you live but here it is pretty sweltering.  On the news they keep talking about record breaking heat and when we will get a break but then I blink and miss the one day where it is around 90 degrees and BAM! we're back up around 95!  Then today, my car a/c runs out of juice.  Great!  Hubby's car is already out of juice with a price tag of $1000 to fix.  That means that the score of cars without a/c to cars with a/c in our house in a big fat 2 to 0!  I shouldn't complain though because we do have an air conditioned house to hide out in.  I remember back when I was a child.  (Here is where I morph into an old person once again.)  Back in my day, we didn't have air conditioning in our house.  Not central air.  Not even a window unit.  And my parents had a strict policy of your windows only being open for an inch or so at the top while you slept.  Confusing because we slept on the second floor.  Oh and did I mention that they didn't allow us to sleep with fans on.  I do vaguely remember some sort of window fan thing but I don't recall it being on all night.  We would fall asleep every night listening to the trains across the street and wonder if we would drown in pools of our own sweat.  I remember one night as I slept the candlesticks I had in my room melted and bent completely over.  Can you believe that?  Its true.  I sweat . . . I mean swear.  Anyway, Hubby is back in from trying to fix my car's a/c and well, no such luck.  Which is why everyone should have a good doctor, lawyer, contractor AND mechanic in their nearby family and friends.  Or you could just have my dad.  He can fix anything.  It just happens to come out a shade of light blue in the end.  See, my parents painted their bedroom when we were little and apparently had some left over paint because everything that my dad fixed after that turned out blue.  Even the playhouse he made for us was light blue inside and out.  I guess I could drive my car the 5 hours to have my dad fix it.  It is already blue.

Bibbidee-bobbidee-boo!

Well, after a very tiring weekend, we are finally home safe and sound.  This weekend included two emergency shopping trips, an emergency hair consultation, a meeting with the guardian ad lidem for Frontrunner, a college graduation party that made us feel really old, preparations for prom including nails, hair and make-up, prom pictures, dinner, prom, after prom, a trip to Pennsylvania, a baby baptism and reception, two . . . wait no . . . three runs through a deluge of rain, a campus tour, a hotel stay, and dinner with the parents.  When you spell it all out like that its no wonder I'm so tired.  I have never been so busy, tired, and wet in my life.  But I am happy.  I am an official, unofficial Fairy Godmummy.  My brother Uncle Fabulous (formerly Uncle Crazy) and his wife Aunt Fabulous asked me to be a Godmother to Baby Fabulous.  After much strife involving the Catholic church and their disappointment that neither I nor Aunt Fab's sister had a penis, it was decided that I would be a Godmummy - just not on the official Catholic books.  Which is fine by me.  I'm not exactly a facebook friend of the Catholic church or anything although technically I am still a registered parishoner at St. Up-the-street's.  I was included in the ceremony just like the Godparents who are on the up and up.  But the important thing is that Baby Fab will know me as Fairy Godmummy.  And after all, isn't the child the important thing here.  Isn't it her soul that is the focus and not what we had to do to humor the Catholic church.  And what more could I want.  I held her, kissed her, fed her, burped her and when she poohed, I gave her back.  Ah, there is nothing sweeter than getting all the perks without the work.  God bless you Baby Fab!  I'll make sure you know to get home before midnight!

My Family Went on Vacation and All I Got Was This Lousy Blog

I've decided to sum up our recent trip to Faraway with a helpful Top Ten Traveling Tips
10.  A foot of snow can stop a 7 day a week Chinese buffet from opening, but it won't stop Chinese delivery.
9.  When in doubt, bribe your child with the promise of a trip to Canada.
8.  Child services agencies in the US are even more screwed up than I thought they were.
7.  It is not possible to have everyone be comfortable in a rental car.
6.  Indian reservations look just like everywhere else, except for the giant fiberglass 50 foot tall Native American statues
5.  Connecticut = $$$Cha-Ching$$$
4.  It is impossible to have a nice, calm, relaxing meal at a Denny's.
3.  Forget about deer.  Try not hitting a moose.
2.  Just because its called the China Dine-ah doesn't mean it has Chinese food.
1.  The magnet is right.  What happens in Maine stays in Maine but really nothing ever happens in Maine.

Snow, Swimming & Broken Hearts

April Fool's Day and I just got back from sitting in a hot tub watching the blustery snow fall outside.  Nice April Fool's Day joke mother nature.  Real funny.  We were supposed to be leaving Faraway today but thanks to about a foot of snow that continues to fall, we get to spend an extra day (in the pool once again) with our Frontrunner - who I might add is our only candidate.  At this point after driving for three days, meeting her and spending constant time with her for the past 48 hours and the next 24 as well, if this does not go through and actually happen, I don't know if I could start the process again.  We are hooked.  She has melted our hearts and we wish we could take her home with us tomorrow.  We checked and, well, we can't.  This will be the hardest part.  Leaving her here.  We have to wait about three weeks till it is her turn to visit us in Suburbia.  Then we have to wait a good two months for her to be able to move down to live with us.  We think that it would be better for her to move down sooner.  She could finish out the year in the Suburbia Middle School and make some new friends before she gets lost in the shuffle of the monster beast that is Surburbia High.  We thought it might be easier than her waiting until her school lets out at the end of June, but her worker says the dreaded red tape can't happen any faster.  Frankly, I think it is mean to say "Here is your new family for three days.  Now say goodbye to them.  Its ok.  You'll see them again in a few months."  But that's how the child welfare system works in this country.  Fractured and broken.  There will be tears tomorrow.  I am sure of it.  She has already asked us to take her home with us when we go.  At the mention of our leaving, she gets quiet and withdrawn and depressed.  I know the people on her team are professionals who are supposed to have her best interest at heart.  I just hope someone listens to what she actually wants.  I hope her voice gets heard above all of the political din.

Just Call Me Dorothy

I am petrified of storms.  Its really sort of a love/hate relationship.  I love to hear the thunder and rain.  The lightening doesn't even bother me.  For me, its all in the wind.  I hate storms because they come with wind and, sometimes, tornadoes.  I've always been this way.  Its part of who I am.  When I was a little girl and the wind would pick up or it looked like a storm was coming, I would run all over our backyard pulling anything that wasn't tied down into the house.  Toys, decorations, lawn furniture.  It all had to come in.  And I didn't even live in tornado alley.  We're talking mid-atlantic states here.  Not exactly known for their tornadoes.  I mean, this is a place where what would normally be tornado sirens are used instead to call volunteer firefighters to the fire station.  We did have a tornado once.  It came through near to our house while we were away.  I remember being so scared that when we got home all my stuff would be gone.  (And to someone with OCD, even undiagnosed at the time, "stuff" is very, very important.)  Hubby and I survived some non-descending funnel clouds while living along the gulf coast.  I remember hearing the tornado sirens in the middle of the night thinking "wow, that must be one big fire".  Little did we know.  I think back to the two years that Hubby and I DID live in tornado alley and I don't know how I functioned like a human being.  I think I just chose to ignore the threat as a coping mechanism of some sort.  I remember the green skies, the wall clouds, the sideways rain and the tornado sirens but I never remember being scared.  Now, I live here in Suburbia, basically the midwest, where the threat is higher than you'd think it would be.  I live the months of March, April, May, June, July and August in fear of the wicked winds.  I force my family, birds and all, into the basement every now and then where we sit with our bike helmets on waiting for the warnings to be over.  I have, through much therapy, come to realization that I am as safe as I can be in my home, but my car is a completely different story.  The thing that fears me most about storms now is traveling in them.  One night, on the way home from a wedding, we were driving down the interstate when the radio went off with tornado warnings for all the local counties.  Having just passed the last exit before a vast stretch of farmland, I insisted that Hubby drive backwards down the interstate on ramp shoulder so that we could take refuge in a Hampton Inn lobby while the cyclonic cones of death made their way through the area.  Today, we laugh about that night, but I would do it again in a heartbeat if I had to.  The reason I'm writing all of this today is that tomorrow we are taking a trip to Hometown to see our new little niece.  We are making the trip in one day which means we will be coming back to Suburbia in the dark, driving straight into a cold front.  They are not calling for any severe weather but with their tendency to do nowcasting and not forecasting, I am nervous.  But I will go.  When the thunder rumbles, I will white knuckle my atlas.  When the lightening flashes, I will scan the horizon for potential funnels.  When we start the trip home, I will medicate . . . heavily.  Meteorlogical scars run deep in my mind but I will live through this.  If not, I'll see you in Oz.

Ketchup

Gotcha!  The title was interesting so you thought "How can she possibly have an entire blog posting about ketchup?".  Wrong.  Today I've decided to do a little "ketchup" to update you on some things I have posted about in the past.  This should bring you up to speed:

-  We have found insurance for our vacant property through a different company.  We were contacted by our Nationwide agent after the holidays at which point he told us they had an underwriter who would gladly handle our needs.  We asked for a quote.  Four days later, he called again while we were out.  He left a message (at closing time on a Friday) but no quote and then wished us a Happy Holidays even though it was nearing mid-January.  This just confirmed for us that they don't care, they don't want our business, and they don't look at the calendar.  We never received a quote in the mail.  We did receive a phone call a few days AFTER our drop date.  They tried to sell us life insurance.  If you have Nationwide Insurance through our former agent, you have my pity.  (See "Insuring a Perfect Holiday")

-  We are headed this Friday to our interview at the other county's social services place.  I don't know if I really want to be doing this or not.  It feels like a commitment even though I know that we can still say no if we want.  Just not looking forward to going in there and defending myself from the attack that is sure to happen.  We have a few other leads we are following that we are more interested in and look more promising.  I will be sure to medicate before the interview. (See "Under the Microscope" and "Moving On, Hanging Out and Trying to Look Up")

-  I am sick of snow.  After a few more snow storms and an ice storm, I am ready for winter to be over.  Luckily, during the ice storm we did not lose our power but we did lose our cable which is enough to make you lose your mind.  After reading, stitching, scrapbooking, playing Wii, playing games and watching movies, we were out of ideas.  We tried to be thankful that we still had power but it was hard to feel good about our situation without the TV to show us people in even worse situations.  The news may be full of negativity but it sure makes you feel good about your own life.  (See "I'm Dreaming of a White Tuesday)

-  Not all children in foster care exclusively love horses.  Most love dolphins as well.  While the horses seem a constant staple, the dolphins appear to be growing in popularity.  I am all for this since I don't recall being allergic to dolphins.  Not that I've really had the chance to find out, but I've been to Sea World and didn't sneeze even once.  Anyway, I'm going to emphasize my family's love of dolphins in the hopes of distracting from the fact that I don't have a horse . . . or a trampoline.  (See "Wanted: Family - Must LOVE Horses")

 -  After much internal wrestling with the subject, I mellowed out a bit on "the song" from the show.  I had to do some coercing of Hubby to get him to accept going to the show, but eventually he did.  So we all went to see the show and heard "the song".  Some of the subject matter was a bit adult oriented.  I'm not sure our daughter got all of the jokes and if she did - I don't want to know.  The show was hilarious and we thoroughly enjoyed it.  Overall, it was a nice afternoon out - even with the erection.  (See "Sex Education: The Musical Version" and "Sex Education: The Musical Version - The Sequel")

So that's about all there is.  If I have forgotten to update you on something and you are interested in hearing more about it, just comment on this posting and I will try to catch you up even more.  Until next time, enjoy your ketchup.

I'm Dreaming of a White Tuesday

Tonight and tomorrow they are calling for snow in Suburbia and I am so excited.  We are even in a winter weather advisory.  I love when it snows.  Now I'm not talking about a dusting of snow although that does get me a little excited. But just a little bit.  No. I'm talking about there's-no-point-in-shoveling-because-its-just-gonna-snow-over-again-before-I'm-finished snow.  Even though I am a full grown adult, I can barely sleep when I know it is supposed to snow overnight.  In the morning, I love to get up with my daughter and watch the television screen waiting for her school's name to flash across bottom with the word closed after it.  It brings back great memories of sitting and listening as the radio announcer alphabetically listed the names of all the schools in the Hometown area that were closed.  The joy that hearing that one little word could bring.  I love it because I have a flexible job and can stay home if it snows too bad.  There is just something about being stuck at home all comfy and cozy for the whole day with mugs of cocoa.  Its like a dream day for me.  Like its own mini-vacation.  No worries.  No cares.  No obligations.  Just rest and relaxation.  An unexpected gift.  A surprise extra 24 hours of me-time with no guilt attached.  I think it helps that my daughter is older and there is no "will you go sledding with me" and "let's build a snowman".  I don't have to deal with packing on layers of clothes just to have to take them off again because someone has to pee before they go outside.  Nope.  I look forward to the snow.  And why am I writing this today and not tomorrow when the snow is actually here.  Because I don't trust the weatherman.  Too many times they have gotten my hopes up calling for snow just to be let down when there is no white stuff to be found.  So today I revel in my anticipation because tomorrow - ITS GOING TO SNOW!  YAY!

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Tornados are scary.  I don't care what anyone else thinks, they are scary.  I think its one of those things like hearing a bone break or being in a car wreck, you don't understand just how terrible it is until you've been through it.  Having lived in Tornado Alley, I have seen my fair share of tornados.  So every time there is the threat of tornadic storms, I batten down the hatches and head to the basement.  Which is exactly what I did today.  The line of storms with tornado warnings was racing eastward so I took all three birds and some necessary items and camped out in the basement.  The TV coverage was great.  Since there were tornado warnings, they stayed on the air constantly for about three hours.  I appreciate this and their ability to predict possible tornados but I have to say that the weather warning system is so good that its going to end up hurting itself.  They issue warnings for everything.  They even issue warnings for doppler indicated tornados.  Now, I for one will always abide by the warnings.  Its the public in general that I fear for.  They issue the warnings so often and then nothing happens that I fear it will cause a "cry wolf" effect.  People will just get immune to the warnings and not think anything of them.  I already know people like this.  They scare me.  Granted from the time I was little if the wind picked up, I was dragging the patio furniture into the house.  But I feel its better to be safe than sorry.  The fear is in my blood.  Hmmmm . . . Maybe I was Judy Garland in a previous life?