Happy Birthday Husband!

Today is my husband's birthday. He is 36 years old today. I'm not afraid to say it, I am the older woman. I am older than him by two months. Shocking, I know.

But we were in the same grade and he was so cute and funny and when he turned his charm on and focused on me, I was a goner.

Happy Birthday, Babe. You are still too charming for my own good!

Bazaar Procrastination

My daughter is going to DC for spring break.

Yes. My 13 year old daughter is flying to DC with a group of kids and teachers from her school.

I said no when she first asked. Her dad said no. It's expensive, she's so young.....then she cried her girl tears and Dad caved. Um, don't you think it's a great opportunity for her? Fine, I cave too. Just because the idea of flying cross country at 13 would have made my 13 year old stomach heave until it was empty, doesn't mean my own daughter feels the same.

She has busted her backside, earning money. I'm so proud of her determination!

We'd given thought to her making things (sewing or something) so when the opportunity to share a table at a local bazaar came up, I said sure.

Yikes. For the last two months we've been bazaar crazy. Knitting and sewing and planning and procrastinating.

Yes. Procrastinating. Because my daughter and I share the same gene that tells us not to worry, we have plenty of time to finish something and then suddenly the end date is days away and we are scrambling to finish our projects.

Technically, only one out of four projects are done and the bazaar is a few days away. And yes, instead of working on something right now, I am blogging.

Bizarre procrastination indeed!

Learning To Drive

It's a right of passage for every young person, one that I was dreaming of and counting down the years to for years before I was even 16. I remember my first drive, with the Omni and it's stick shift and lurching through every stop sign trying to figure out the clutch and shifting, my Mom sitting next to me, giving instruction and encouragement.

In all my learning, I only remember her being upset that I was hugging the edge of the road and the ditch that ran next to it...which if you ask her today, I'm sure she'll tell you that still makes her nervous when I drive.

I've been looking forward to my first born learning to drive. I have! I imagined I'd be a cool cucumber, calmly giving tips and never yelling 'stop, stop, stop!'

And suddenly it's now, and my son is learning to drive and I'm not always as calm as I thought I'd be. My biggest issue isn't him, it's the other idiots driving around us. Don't they know my heart is driving? They need to exercise extreme caution!

I find that I have to battle some desire to jump out of the car and pound on windows, screaming things like "what's wrong with you?" and "It wasn't your turn at that four way stop!"

In spite of that, my son is driving us everywhere, and he's doing great. I'm very proud of him and even if at times I want to cry with disbelief that he is actually old enough to sit behind the wheel, to put his arm on the back of my seat as he backs out of the driveway, to adjust the mirrors to his proportions, well, that's just the price of motherhood, isn't it?

One I'll gladly pay.

Tales Of The Porta Potty

Who likes 'em? But when you have to go, and there is one in all it's blue glory, you thank the good Lord it's there.

Seeing a line of porta potties at a crowded event does make you feel better. You'll still have to wait, but at least it's not going to be so long you seriously consider walking into the bushes and using nature's facilities.

At my daughters last cross country meet, at one of our local country parks where a little bathroom services the whole area, I was glad to see the porta potties. And after drinking my water bottle while I sat around waiting for her race to start, I knew I needed to make use of one of those blue havens.

I did a scouting walk around, checking out which line had shorter wait time, which porta potty had a sign that actually clicked over to the red "occupied" sign, and I finally make a well informed choice.

It was a porta potty. I held my breath and did what I needed to do. But as I was standing up, pulling up my pants, a little girl started yanking on the door. Um, I'm in here. I reach out to make sure the door doesn't pop open, even with the lock on, but I'm too late.

All of her yanking made the whole door jam and door lock wiggle enough to pop open. There I am, standing with my underwear up, thank God, but my pants not. I pull the door closed but it's too late. I've flashed everyone.

Okay. Well. Things happen. Who cares, right? Well, it turns out I do.

I will employ my huge family gathering bathroom rules from now on when dealing with porta potties.

1. Go to the Bathroom in Pairs.

2. Have your Partner Guard the Door while You are in the Bathroom.

3. Return the Favor and Guard the Door for your Partner.

Following these rules will prevent little children yanking your door open. If your partner does her job right!

Music Memories

Hearing a certain song can transport you back to another moment, and no matter where you are in reality, suddenly you are standing on the smooth wooden floors of your New Jersey apartment, the sun is shining, the windows are open bringing in a sea breeze and Tom T Hall is blasting from your new CD player.

Okay, that specific memory is mine, but the other day I heard a snippet of The Day That Clayton Delaney Died, and I swear I could hear the ocean water rolling along outside our apartment.

The same can be said for certain Amy Grant songs (Fat Baby anyone?) and I am in our blue station wagon, singing along loudly, while we drove three days to our new home in Arizona. Jolene by Dolly Parton has me smelling my Grandma's perfume and hearing her and my Mom talk as we drive Grandma's car into town. The Statler Brothers singing their album Holy Bible reminds me of my mom putting their record on and all of us cleaning the house like crazy. Michael Jackson's Beat It instantly has me at the roller rink, racing around and around and around, the breeze blowing my bangs off my sweaty head and the skates rubbing blisters, but I couldn't slow down when the awesome MJ was playing!

I may have zero musical talent, but I do have an extreme appreciation of all kinds of music, and the awesome thing is, so did my Dad. When I read letters he wrote to my Mom, so many of them were about the current record he was listening to, or a certain song he was totally digging. His taste was eclectic, and I love that!

Every time I hear Barbra Streisand, I think of him writing about Uncle Art bringing a Cat Stevens tape to listen to on their fishing boat, but not getting much play time because, "I bought a Barbra Streisand tape and I've about worn it out already, but I love it for the music keeps me reminded of when I was home."

I know exactly what he means.

Real Vs. Fake

In these modern times, we have so many fake things that compete with real, and usually the real is way better than the fake.

Sour cream and Imo.

Butter and I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Bacon and Sizzelean.

Sugar and aspartame.

Heinz 57 and all other kinds of ketchup/catsup.

Maple syrup and Maple flavored syrup.

Wait a tick. Not so fast.

There is No Way real maple syrup with it's thin consistency and tree sap flavor is better than Log Cabin maple flavored syrup.

No way.

When I have a pancake or a waffle or french toast, I want a syrup that sticks, that tastes a bit like heaven.

And I've got to say real maple syrup just doesn't cut it.

I'd eat dry toast before I let a fake butter touch it. I'd give up bacon completely if sizzelean was my only choice (btw, do they even sell that stuff anymore?). But give me the sweat sticky goodness of Log Cabin authentic maple tasting syrup any day and I'll say thank you very much!

From Sticky Fingers To Muddy Paws

I had a dream. I dreamed I would have 6 kids. Then I had my first and thought, well, maybe just 4. Then my second, and it turns out this baby having business was just not going to work out for me.

So I moved on. I have two awesomely awesome kids and if I'd had four or six, I don't know that I would be the good Mom that I am. But that part of me that longs for baby to hold and cuddle and love and snuggle, well, that has never stopped longing!

The answer to that was a puppy. I know, it's not for everyone, but frankly, I am a huge fan of dogs and getting our Beagle puppy was just right. Then we got another puppy. Then to make things that much more crazy, we let our daughter have one too.

I am the proud Mom to a 15 year old son, learning to drive, a 13 year old daughter, in love with piano, and three very lovely dogs.

I have less sticky finger print marks on our TV (only an occasional 'hi' written in the dust on the screen) but I traded those in for muddy paws leaving perfect prints on my fresh mopped floors.

I do miss those sticky finger days, especially when I watch my son's hands turning the wheel of the car, or my daughters fingers dance up and down the piano keys, and in my minds eye I can see their baby dimpled fingers reaching for me....

But then one of my crazy lovely dogs will come over and put her muddy paws on my leg, look at me with her big brown eyes, and I'm back in reality, firmly cemented in the present, with a mop in one hand and Mr Clean in the other.

I love all my kids, from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes....or tails.