The C Word

Cholesterol.  It's an old person word.  An old person concern.  And strongly influenced by those who came before us.  My numbers are awesome.  My husband's are not.  It sucks, especially these days when I don't want to cook and I don't want to think about what people are going to eat for dinner.  If I were living alone I'd go to Papa Murphy's and order a family size Chicken Garlic, no tomatoes, sub mushrooms, and that would keep me fed for three days.

My hubby is a great cook, but he likes to be told what to cook.  A menu, a plan.  My son is 19, engaged, popular, and it's summertime.  That adds up to him rarely being here for meal times.  I'm just going through a cranky food time of life.  I'll snap out of it!  Really.....I will!

Summer Attire

95% of women who wear sleeveless clothing.....shouldn't.  The word "hamhock" comes to mind.  Or is that two words?  Either way, cover it up.

If I Ran the World - Bratty Kids Would Be the Exception, Not the Norm

I cannot tolerate bratty kids.  I could use 300 point font, all caps and a million exclamation points and still not convey the true depth of how much I hate bratty kids.  Then there's the word "hate."  Strong word.  Do I hate the actual child?  Of course not.  The hate is reserved for the parents.  Especially the parent who laughs nervously, rolls their eyes and mumbles "I just don't know what to do with him/her!"  I seriously want to shake people like that.

There are no perfect children and there are no perfect parents.  But parenthood is not rocket science.  Parenthood is common sense, cause and effect, action and reaction.  To be a good parent you have to embrace the Golden Rule and be able to share that knowledge with your offspring. 

My son was precocious, opinionated, stubborn and hard-headed.  No doubt at all who his mother was!  Thankfully he was not a biter, but he did find it amusing to poke people in the eye.  Actually that's worse than biting now that I stop and think about it.  First poking incident was met with a stern but gentle admonition because, after all, he's two years old.  Second poking incident the message was stronger and harsher, hopefully to get the point across.  Unfortunately, there was a third poking.  It was swiftly followed by a fourth, that being my finger into his little eye.  A look of horror came across his face.  Then the tears fell and the crying commenced.  And here's the shocker!  He never poked anyone in the eye again.  He actually tells that story to illustrate the no-nonsense way he was raised, and to proclaim he will raise his kids the same way.

He threw a hissy fit in a restaurant.  Once.  He laid down and pitched a mega fit in Target.  Once.  He did many if not all of the things every normal kid does.  Once.  When his behavior did not achieve the desired result and backfired on him, he was intelligent enough to learn his lesson.  Kids are incredibly more intelligent than we give them credit for.  Sadly, most are far more intelligent than the people who brought them into this world.

Girls vs. Boys

I only have one child (that I know of).  Years before I got pregnant I began to very respectfully ask God to bless me with boy children.  I knew in my heart boys would be best for everyone concerned.  I found out I was having a boy at the actual moment I gave birth to a boy.  My son was shy and managed to conceal his privates during two ultrasounds.

I still believe I was a better boy mom than I would have been a girl mom.  But every once in a while, boy oh boy (mega pun intended) do I wish I had a girl to talk to.  A girl would understand my emotions.  A girl wouldn't stare at me with absolutely no clue what to say.  A girl would get me.

20 Years

I'm 54.  Hard to believe.  Even harder to type.  So, statistically speaking, I have roughly 20 years left on this earth.  This whole "getting old" thing has been many things: scary, funny, enlightening.  But mostly surreal.  Yes, surreal is the word to sum it up.  My mind is constantly flashing back to things from my teens.  For example, California Dental Association night at Disneyland.  They'd rent the whole park.  I looked forward to that one night all year.  I remember thinking - when I'm an adult I can visit Disneyland as often I want and no one can tell me no.  Now I live two states away and finances, work and just everyday responsibilities tell me no.

All of the cliches I heard growing up now apply to me.  I relate to the essays of Dave Barry and find myself thinking a lot more cranky thoughts than I used to.  I've begun to view life as a train trip.  You take your seat and gaze out the window as the scenery goes by.  I long ago passed diapers and daycare.  Now I'm cruising slowly through college tuition.

But....whatta ya gonna do?  Can't stop time.  Can't even slow it down.  And that's another thing!  How time passes so much more quickly the older we get!?!

Why Am I Here, You Ask....

Hello!  You are most likely here because we have first "met" on eBay and I have given you the link to this blog post because you need my email address or I need yours.  Mine is xposales@aol.com and if  you are curious as to why I had to ask you to come here, please read on.

eBay prohibits potential buyers and sellers from exchanging email addresses.  In fact, their message system has filters which prevent the sending of any message containing an email address.  If you try to disguise the address by typing things like "(at) a.o.l dot com" the filter will catch it and you will not be able to send the message.

Isn't She Lovely?

Jacob and his beautiful girl at her senior prom last weekend.  Over three years now and they are still going strong.  Won't be long till she has a ring on her hand and I'm fine with that.

My baby's heart was broken many times before he met his princess.  Usually girls would get bored with how he treated his parents with respect, had no interest in drugs or alcohol, and believed sex should be saved till the wedding night.  Not exactly a bad boy huh?

Well, one of the girls he dated was a wild child.  And since I myself started my adulthood as a wild child I never judged her, but I doubted she was the one God had chosen for this future Pastor.  Their relationship quickly fizzled and they went their separate ways.  She and her current boyfriend just had a baby a few months ago.  They are now engaged.  Meanwhile Jacob is finishing up his freshman year of college.

We live in a big "small" town.  The baby daddy works at a nearby restaurant where I am a frequent customer.  He is a perfectly lovely young man and we chat.  Jacob has sworn me to secrecy and I am forbidden to tell the young man that I am Jacob's mother.  I understand completely because in this big "small" town a familiar face is never far away.  But every time I see that young man I thank the Lord for not making me a grandmother yet.

My Dog

Most dogs like to go for car rides.  Juneau is no exception.  Most dogs are alerted to an impending car trip by the sight of their owner putting on their shoes and/or picking up their car keys.  Juneau is alerted by these signs as well.  But, the #1 surefire, 100% guaranteed sign of a car trip?  The one thing that gets him jumping and wooing and barking?  The sound of shipping tape coming off the roll.  Shipping tape equals packaging things and packaging things equals a trip to the post office.  A very intelligent (yet odd) dog.

Conversations With the Fam

My dear son overslept yesterday morning. 

Me:  So that's two mornings in a row you've overslept.  What happened?

Son:  I slept through my alarm.

Me:  You need a back-up alarm.  Do you have one?

Son:  Yes (pointing toward his bookshelf).

Me:  And... you already feel bad enough without me harping on it.

Son:  Yep.

*****

Walked into hubby's room.  Yes, we have separate bedrooms.  That's one of the reasons why we also have such a good and happy marriage.  I use the word "pop" instead of fart.  I was raised that way so I figure why stop now.

Me:  Hi.  (Sniff, sniff, sniff).  It smells like someone popped in here.

Hubby:  Someone did.  Several times.

Me:  Nice seeing you (quick exit).

Two Kinds of Pain

So, there are two kinds of pain.  The first is pain from something you've done to your body, or someone else has done to your body.  Or an injury, surgery, etc.  It was time for the epidural spinal injections today.  It's never a fun procedure, but there is an element of surprise as I never know if it will go well (minimal pain) or not so well (like the 4th of July inside my body).  Today was a fireworks kinda day.  It is still very tender and actually hurts a bit to breathe.  They say to take it easy for a day or two.  My husband agrees with them.  I, on the other hand, think taking it easy is incredibly boring and only gives you more time to focus on the pain.  As Gordon Ramsay would say, "Fuck me."

And speaking of Gordon, I've been watching some of the Hell's Kitchen seasons on YouTube.  We don't have cable TV at home, so I'm always a year or two or nine behind, which is fine with me.  Season 11 wrapped less than a month ago.  A very charming and talented young woman named Ja'Nel won.  Her prize was a year contract as Head Chef at Gordon Ramsay Pub & Grill at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, along with a salary of $250,000.00.  As hubby would say, "Saaaweeeet!"

The L.A. Times reported today that Ja'Nel will not be accepting the position in Las Vegas.  She cited personal reasons as her explanation.  Dug a little deeper and discovered Caesar's Palace has an exceptionally strict drug policy and Ja'Nel tested positive for cocaine.  Talk about PAIN!!  What an idiot, and what a slap in the face to the woman she beat out for the position, and those who were also in the running and missed the finals by a hair.  Wow.....