That's our Celebrity

This kid was sitting right in front of me at the Nebraska homecoming game and I couldn't resist snapping a picture of his jersey. (notice how closely they are sitting to each other--yes, it's like that at every game, no matter who we're playing or how badly we're getting our butts kicked--seriously, though Nebraskans are NOT getting any smaller, I think it's time for a little renumbering on the seats!)

Hard to believe from his "accent" but Larry the Cable Guy is actually from a small town in Nebraska. He has a skybox at the football games (they showed it to us when we got our private tour of the football facilities the night before the game). Everybody gets really excited when he shows up on some tv show with his Husker cap on, and he's been burning up the airwaves lately, what with that new movie he has out and all.

Anyway, after the Homecoming game we went over to my brother's house and I was showing the pictures to my sister-in-law. She just shook her head and said, "yeah, that's our celebrity...doesn't it make you proud?"

I think we had higher self esteem as a state when our celebrity was Johnny Carson, but then again I have been told I'm a little uppity.

It wouldn't be funny if it wasn't true

I get these little things occasionally from friends and family back home, and they always make me laugh. Because they are so true.

I grew up in rural Nebraska in a town of 200 people. I always wished I was from the "Big Town" where my grandma lives...population 1,200. Although the school is now consolidated with another town's school six miles away (they have 800 people) we had our own school when I was a kid. (kindergarten thru 12th grade in the same building--and I can probably still tell you who was in every class and what year they graduated.) They consolidated three years after I graduated, so my brother and sister went to the hybrid school.

And so I give you this. And it wouldn't be funny if it wasn't true. Every bit of it.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM RURAL NEBRASKA IF......

You know it is traditional for the bride and groom to go bar hopping between the ceremony and reception dance.

You know the difference between "Green" and "Red" farm machinery.

You spent more on beer & liquor than you did on food at your wedding.

You or someone you know was a "Dairy Princess" at the county fair.

You know that "combine" is a noun.

You know that "creek" rhymes with "pick" .

You or someone you know wears Carhartt and Dikies apparel and it isn't a trendy fashion statement.

Football schedules, hunting season and harvest are all taken into consideration before wedding dates are set.

A Friday night date is getting a six-pack and taking your girlfriend hunting for deer.

Saturday you go to your local bowling alley.

You get excited for tornado season.

There was at least one kid in your class who had to help milk cows in the morning... phew!

You have driven your car on the lake.

Every wedding dance you have ever been to has the hokey pokey and the chicken dance.

Your definition of a small town is one that only has one bar.

The local gas station sells live bait.

At least twice a year some part of your home doubles as a meatprocessing plant.

You think that the start of deer season is a national holiday.

Pop is the only name for soda.

You can name everyone you graduated with

You know what 4-H means (and what all the H's stand for)

You went to parties at a pasture, barn, gravel pit, or in the middle of a dirt road. On Monday you could always tell who was at the party because of the scratches on their legs from running when the party was busted.

You used to "drag" Main.

You said the "F" word and your parents knew within the hour.

You scheduled parties around the schedules of different police officers, because you knew which ones would bust you and which ones wouldn't.

You could never buy cigarettes because all the store clerks knew how old you were (and if you were old enough, they'd tell your parents anyhow.

When you did find somebody old enough and brave enough to buy cigarettes, you still had to go out into the country and drive on back roads to smoke them.

You knew which section of the ditch you would find the beer your buyer dropped off.

It was cool to date somebody from the neighboring town.

The whole school went to the same party after graduation.

You didn't give directions by street names but rather by references. Turn by Nelson's house, go 2 blocks to Anderson's, and it's four houses left of the track field.

The golf course had only 9 holes.

You couldn't help but date a friend's ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.

Your car stayed filthy because of the dirt roads, and you will never own a dark vehicle for this reason.

The town next to you was considered "trashy" or "snooty,"but was actually just like your town.

You referred to anyone with a house newer then 1965 as the "rich people."

The people in the "big city" dressed funny, and then you picked up the trend 2 years later.

Anyone you wanted could be found by calling the local gas station or the town bar.

You saw at least one friend a week driving a tractor through town or one of your friends driving a grain truck to school occasionally.

The gym teacher suggested you haul hay for the summer to get stronger.

Directions were given using THE stop light as a reference.

When you decided to walk somewhere for exercise, 5 people would pull over and ask if you wanted a ride.

Your teachers called you by your older siblings' names.

Your teachers remembered when they taught your parents.

The closest McDonalds was 25 miles away (or more).

The closest mall was over an hour away.

It was normal to see an old man riding through town on a riding lawn mower.

You've pee'd in a cornfield.

Most people went by a nickname.

You laughed your butt off reading this because you know it is all true.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, DOTR! He's 48, and since he was born on a leap year, his mom actually asked to be induced so he wouldn't be born on February 29. I think I would've done the opposite, but that's just me.

His brother took him out to lunch at their regular haunt (Ted's Montana Grill) and the waiter said it was obvious they were brothers, but who was older? His brother is five years younger, so of course that made DOTR's day. You know, since we're playing that game to look younger than our siblings. Only we're not telling them we're playing. Yeah, that game.

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was a new giant bottle of Polo cologne (in the green bottle). Since I'm all about smell, I got it for him because it reminds me of being 18. Can't beat that for $50 bucks. Cheap and easy date.

For the finale, I'm making his favorite German Chocolate cake, even though neither one of us has any business even being in the same room as a cake, much less eating it. I am, without a doubt, the worst mother in the world because my kids rarely get a birthday cake anymore. Usually nobody is home to eat it, and J4 doesn't even like cake. So I don't bother unless we're having a party or something. Which we usually don't, unless it's extremely casual. (when we have them, though, they are usually really, really fun).

And thank you, the end of the month is here. That means my new dishwasher should be here any day. I'm ready to retire these dishpan hands, pronto.

X Games '08

Vacation Hangover

The kids were out of school all week for our "Mid Winter Break", not to be confused with our "Winter Break" which is the old Christmas Vacation. I'm definitely nursing a vacation hangover. Could not get out of bed this morning after a week of getting up at my preferred 8:30.

Actually, I have a hella headache today because after we dropped the boys off at church last night, we headed straight to our favorite dive Mexican restaurant (where everybody knows your name) and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. And not our usual mini pitcher. No way baby, we got the big one.

Luckily we got done before it was time to pick up the boys, so DOTR took sloshy MOTR home. I was waiting impatiently all week for the final installment of the BBC version of "Pride and Prejudice" to see if, you know, I could FINALLY fall in love with this Mr. Darcy, so I was already camped out in the bedroom when they got home. Not to be disturbed, thank you very much.

I watched the whole thing, up until the point where Lydia and Mr. Wickham come to Longbourne after they got married........then, all of the sudden, there are the credits rolling and the previews for all the other Jane Austen adaptations coming soon on your PBS station. Sheesh, I fell asleep (or passed out, take your pick) and missed the heartwarming moments.

So, luckily, the Atlanta PBS station is a week behind and showing it on Monday nights. So I guess Colin Firth still has one more chance to win my heart as Mr. Darcy.

And I still have a hella headache.

Five Weird Things

I have a million weird things about me, but I guess I can come up with the top 5.

1. I have an incredible sense of smell. I can't always identify what I'm smelling, but the way something smells has a huge effect on me. My mom says I have always been this way.

2. I can't hear anything. DOTR can hear like the Bionic Woman, but I have to be looking right at someone to hear what they are saying. I can't have any interference noise in the background. We've been together for almost 30 years, and DOTR still tries to talk to me from another room with water running.

3. I hate to talk on the phone. Probably has a lot to do with not being able to hear? I'm totally a visual person, if I read it, I remember it. DOTR and all of my kids are just the opposite.

4. I don't like movies. Unless it is something I really want to see, it's absolute torture for me to sit through a movie. I can only name a handful of movies that I like and I tend to watch them over and over.

5. I don't like to be touched. Can't stand to get manicures/pedicures and if you really want to torture me, just suggest a massage. If DOTR wants to bug me, he'll just put his foot on my leg while I'm trying to sleep. Can you say "not a cuddler?"

Geez, I sound like a barrel of laughs here, don't I? Bet you ALL want to be my best friend now.

Don't call me, don't touch me, forget about a movie....and you better smell nice, or else.

Snowboarding

J4 tearing it up on the slopes last weekend.

Whoops!

In case you were here and saw my ranting baseball post and now think you were seeing things, no worries. You're not losing it. I had to delete.

Blue Devil Land is waaaaay too small, with <2 degrees of separation.

Buggin' Out

Another random picture that popped up on the the screen this afternoon when I walked into the room. We went to DC for spring break three years ago, and at the time, J2 was on the hunt/in the begging stages for a car. She had determined that she wanted a Bug (but DOTR did not want to buy another VW). We saw this car in Georgetown, and she told him this was the one she wanted!

She got a black one instead. Attracts much less attention around town.

Is this bad?

So, let me ask you this....does threatening to take my 13 year old down to the Five Points MARTA Station and leave him there make me a bad mother?

Because he so does not believe the thing about giving him away to the gypsies anymore.

Only five more days until they go back to school.

The Pinto Years

In my vast baseball experience, I have to say that the Pinto years are the most fun. If you play PONY baseball, you know that Pinto is the 7-8 year olds. Kids get more coordinated, understand what to do with the ball when it comes to them, they still hit off of a coach pitch, so there are lots of hits, lots of scoring, the game moves fast, parents are cheering. The games go by fast ("we're done already?" instead of the "OMG, you mean that there's another inning?" of Shetland) and are a lot of fun. You hear more cheering at the Pinto field than on any other field because there's so much action.

DOTR became "King of all Pinto Baseball" when he was named league coordinator. Again, he was honored that he was singled out for such an honor and voted in by the board (sucker). Thus began his slavery to our ballpark that would reach epic proportions in the next few years. In this job he was responsible for everything that happened on this field, including being there hours ahead of game time every time a raindrop fell to work on the fields, setting up the draft and making his secretary figure out how to run the software--and make up all the team notebooks, dealing with problem parents and coaches.....the list is endless. Oh, and coach your own team, of course. Basically, in that year, we went from a family that sat down together to a full dinner to grabbing hotdogs and skittles at the ballpark. The concession stand became fine dining, and eating something out of a piece of foil is now such second nature to the boys, I don't think they even remember when we used to have real meals.

DOTR and J3's Mariners won the end of season tournament that year, coming through the loser's bracket and beating the big bully team loaded with 8 year olds with a scrappy team of 7 year olds. He fed them Mountain Dew between their back to back games, and it was the magic elixir of victory.

On the heels of his triumph, he was named coach of the 7 year old All Stars. This was our introduction to the world of spiritwear, banners, big competition and travel from the safe confines of our family oriented neighborhood ballpark.

And we met the crazies for the first time. All star parents.

Lord, help us all.

Random Picture of the Day

Here's one that was on the screen when I came into the room this morning. J1's senior prom in 2005--after the huge photo extravaganza, a Blue Devil tradition. It's total craziness. A very sweet lady invites all the seniors who want to come with their dates and have their picture taken in front of her gorgeous historic house. Cars are lined up down the road for blocks. A cop shows up to direct traffic. The newspaper comes and takes a picture the the ginormous group that ends up on the front page Saturday morning. Like clockwork.

This is Blue Devil land, you know.

Life just gets in the way

So to all of you hanging on the edge of your seats for the rest of my gripping baseball saga, sorry. I'm trying not to make it as tedious as the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice (sorry, I know people love it to death, but please.....must we see every single scene in the book? Obviously, it is NOT growing on me). Believe me, the story does get better, and this week with high school tryouts, we are writing more drama as we speak!

With the third Saturday in a row spent at home by myself being an absolute and total slug, you can only imagine what this place looks like. Don't be nominating me for "How Clean is Your House", alright? It's almost there, sadly. Yesterday was a marathon dishwashing session (repeat to self, the new dishwasher is coming in two weeks, you can do it!). DOTR pointed out that Favorite SIL would've made everybody eat off paper plates a long time ago. Well, of course she would, she doesn't even recycle. I am so there, I'm thinking it's Chinet from here on out.

Speaking of Favorite SIL, she called me this morning to tell me that she is a grandma. Yeah. Me, not so ready for that stage in life. Don't even go there, girls (or boys, lord help us!) My 22 yr. old nephew's girlfriend had a baby boy yesterday afternoon. They are excited, now anyway. A few months ago, not so much. But you know, once they're here, you gotta love a new baby. I had a lot of fun with the shower shopping--I got him a navy polo and some patch madras shorts that will be pretty cute this summer. Now I guess as the great (gulp) aunt and uncle, we should do a little more shopping now that he's arrived.

J2 was here and spent the night last night. I miss her so much. She came home to pick up her prom dress from last year to wear to a fraternity formal this weekend. In New Orleans. I swear, can those girls be having any more fun? We did all her laundry and she gathered up her shoes, fancy purse, all the jewelry we spent weeks shopping for last spring and loaded it all in her big Vera Bradley duffle for her fun weekend.

J4 got home yesterday afternoon from his ski trip. Pretty bummed when I realized he was coming home yesterday and not today. (yeah, bad mommy). Luckily, he was beyond exhausted and crashed on the sofa in the basement for most of the evening, went to bed and emerged at about noon today. So far he's been home for 18 hours and hasn't begged for a new computer one time. I'm just waiting. He'll be right back at it as soon as he clears the cobwebs, I'm sure. The cool thing about his trip is that the other two downtown churches were all at the same resort, so he ended up snowboarding all day with best bud, Z. Yep, the Methodist, Baptists and Presbyterians were tearing it up at Winter Park all weekend.

Back to our regularly scheduled program, tomorrow.

Maybe.

And so it goes....

Finally, at the ripe old age of 5, we have our first baseball player. Yeah, J3 got started late because he has, we've now discovered, the PERFECT BASEBALL BIRTHDAY. So he was actually old enough to play in the fall league before we started in the spring, but we didn't know it. (boy, were we greenhorns). His birthday is August 4, which was just three days AFTER the magical cut off date of August 1st. Meaning he was always as old as you could possibly be for his age group, which makes a huge difference when you're 5 years old.

DOTR was so psyched that he "made the cut" to be a coach in the Shetland (5-6 year olds) league--stupid us, we thought it was hard, since you had to fill out an application and be "voted in"......bwahahahahahahaha! Being the new guy on the block, we were assigned the Twins as our team. This would be the dead last time we did not get to choose what team we would be, because DOTR was not satisfied with being low man on the totem pole, as you will see as this tale unfolds.

The field is tiny and all dirt--perfect for 5-6 year olds. J3 is pretty big and coordinated, and he hits the ball out a few times. They have a good team, and win most of their games (even though they don't keep score--haha, DOTR keeps score in his "unofficial" scorebook!) End of the season tournament rolls around and we are ready to take this thing. Oops, two and out. Yay! Season over, big trophy, pool party at our house.

The next year J4 is old enough to play. Because we play in a PONY park, an association that divides the kids up into leagues every two years, the boys are on the same team. They are almost two years apart in real age, but because of when their birthdays fall, they're just one year apart in baseball years. Woohoo, how easy. DOTR coaches. I show up late and leave early. Perfect world. We choose Braves in the fall and the Texas Rangers in the spring, because we like their cool red and blue uniforms. We special order snazzy red baseball pants to look even more awesome.

Life is good. J3 is the STUD. He hits the damn ball out of the park everytime he is up to bat. We have so many homerun balls, we have to put up a new shelf in their bedroom. Little boy,J4, is just too cute in his giant hat, and gives not a crap about the game. He just likes to get dressed up in the uniform and mess around in the dugout (he's almost 14 and not much has changed in that department!) We are the team to beat in the tournament.

But, oops. We go two and out again. DOTR is devastated. I'm glad.

Now we have the last week of school semi-free, with the exception of that pesky softball tournament that J2's team has to play in every night and that whole weekend of ballet recital performances, too. (oh yeah, we have other kids who have things going on, almost forgot!)

We have the team pool party, pass out the awards, and when school is done, we're off on our annual trip to visit the grandparents in Nebraska.

Little did I know that this would be our last summer vacation that did not involve baseball.

For ten years. And counting.

The sun will come out

Tomorrow.

J4 goes skiing. They leave at 4:00 pm. He won't be back until late Tuesday night.

We get a break from the begging and pestering.

Aaaahhhhhh.

Only the Beginning

Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet. Ok, we have a Toyota, but whatever.

When I was a kid, there were distinct seasons--fall was football, winter was basketball/wrestling, spring was track, summer was baseball. We had town teams because, duh, I lived in a small town. We went to other towns and played them (I played fastpitch, which back in the day was just called "softball"). When you got into high school, you played Legion ball (boys) because most high schools didn't even have baseball teams. DOTR has a friend from high school who pitched for the Braves who never played HS baseball.

When I was in college, I had friends that grew up in Omaha who were long time groupies at the College World Series. I'll never forget one of my friends talking about the great time she had hanging out with the team from Texas (they won that year I think) and a really hot pitcher by the name of Roger-something. Um, I think Roger Clemens. Yeah.

Of course, like all good college students we stayed up half the night watching the Braves on TBS. DOTR was obsessed, along with all his other fraternity brothers (imagine how excited DOTR was when he transferred to Atlanta with his first job out of college!) Some of the earliest memories of when we were first married are falling asleep to the Braves on tv from the West Coast. How romantic.

We went to games occasionally, but those were the days of "Go Braves. And take the Falcons with you." DOTR devoted his free time to playing on/managing the church's mens softball team. Luckily, I began to have babies with frightening regularity, so I wasn't expected to spend a couple nights a week at the ballpark. Thank goodness.

When J1 turned 4, she was already hot and heavy into her future career as a ballerina, but that didn't stop DOTR from dreaming. She was a lefty, and I'm pretty sure we had at least 4 teeny weenie left handed ball gloves. Since they didn't start softball until 5, a friend of DOTR's told him that he could sign her up for baseball. They always had a couple girls on every team, he said. So began the shortest baseball career of all time. She went to practice one time, got her white baseball pants dirty and that was the end of that. And there were no other girls on her team. Forget it.

Luckily about that time I popped out a couple more kids, boys this time, and DOTR was content to bide his time.

What the ......?

We have our screensaver set to flash everything in "My Pictures". I didn't have a digital camera for a long time, but the kids had a couple, so sometimes when you walk in the room, the most random picture will be on the screen.

This one was up when I came in here this morning and it just made me laugh. J4's 10th birthday trip to the Braves game. No clue what he was doing.

Pride & Prejudice

I've been watching Masterpiece Theatre on Sunday nights. The complete Jane Austen--pretty good stuff for a Sunday night. I'm not much of a movie buff, so I really have to want to see something to sit for that long and watch it.

A couple of years ago, J1 and I went to see "Pride & Prejudice" with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen. Seriously, I'd read P&P in high school, but I didn't remember the story that well. I thought the movie was fabulous, the art direction was beautiful and it seemed so real, right down to the slightly shabby manor house, authentic looking costumes and the pig in the front yard. All I heard from everybody was that it was not as good as the BBC miniseries (which I never saw on A&E--must've been on during baseball season or something). How can anyone but Colin Firth be Mr. Darcy? And the movie leaves out too much, it's too short, the wrong people are saying the wrong lines. Whatever. I thought it was great and I even bought the DVD and watched it a whole bunch of times. And I watched it everytime it was on HBO. And I'm pretty sure I watched it OnDemand a few times, too. (yeah, I tend to get a little obsessive when I like something).

I dug out an old copy of P&P and slogged through it (yaaaaawwwn) and decided there was a good reason they left a lot of it out. I remember trying to read "Emma" and never making it to the end. It seems that unlike most things where I prefer the book to the movie, I prefer my Jane Austen on film and not on paper.

So, this week was part 1 of the BBC miniseries. I think I'm going to have to rent the DVDs so I can watch it all in one sitting, because so far I am not feeling the love. It looks so.....clean. And small. And fake. And seriously, are there only a dozen British actors in the world who are in every movie? (not to mention the sitcoms on the PBS Saturday night lineup). With that cast, I just kept looking for Hugh Grant to pop out at any minute (maybe to leave Caroline Bingley at the altar again, ala Four Weddings and a Funeral?) And Jane? Does she ever get a personality? Because so far she looks like a half wit.

So, is Mr. Darcy going to grow on me?

Breaking Away

We have winter break next week. Yes! No dragging myself out of bed at the crack of dark thirty to drive cranky boys to school. J4 is going skiing on Friday and won't be home until late Tuesday (the county schools are only off through Tuesday, so they have to come back then). J3 doesn't get to go skiing and he's not happy.

Baseball. No winter break, no spring break. All because of baseball. Can't miss practice, gotta keep up with the big boys at the county schools. I guess we shouldn't complain, all the county schools have posted their rosters and J3 hasn't even been to practice yet because he's still wrestling. In those other schools, participating in any sport other than baseball is not cool, so forget about making the team.

The girls have spring break the week that straddles Palm Sunday and Easter. J1 is going to Marathon Key with a group of sorority sisters and J2 is going to Hilton Head (brrrrr) with another group of sorority sisters. Hope she likes shopping (duh, she does!) since it's not a whole lot warmer than Atlanta. Maybe a little, but not a lot.

We had reservations for a cottage at Rosemary Beach for spring break (first week in April), but DOTR cancelled them when he "bought the ranch" because he decided that they (the boys) could just mess around up there on "the land" and come back for baseball practice. Them out of the house not making a mess could be my vacation, I guess. Since that fell through, it looks like we're hanging out here. J3 is going on a short mission trip since they do get half of the break off for baseball, but DOTR and I are going to have to figure something out for Mr. Pester or it will not be fun. He's going to Washington DC for his government class the week after Easter, but knowing him, that will not count as "spring break" and he'll get something else in his head and we'll hear about it.

Any fun plans for spring break?

Kmart Sucks. Time for Wapner.

J4 wants a new computer. Now. This minute. Something about the three computers we already have at home aren't fast enough for his new itouch, and the ones we have at the office don't have itunes, so he needs one so he doesn't have to go to his friend's house to update it. Now, can we go to the store and get one now? And can I get the new mac something or other that only costs a couple thousand bucks? C'mon, we need to go before the store closes.

This has been going on for a week. 24/7. I picked him up from school at 12:30 (early release week for p-t conferences) and in the time it took me to drop him off at home and drive 1/4 mile to the office, he had already called DOTR asking him to take him to buy a new computer. I went into Atlanta on Sunday afternoon to take some stuff to the girls and take them out for a late lunch and he called me to see if he could get a new computer (DOTR evidently told him that he could get one if I said it was okay--like I ever buy anything like that). He's like a stalker and DOTR has been hiding out in the bedroom for the past couple days just to get a minute's peace.

This pester pester pester method works for him on a lot of things because he's the 4th child and we're tired. So after awhile, we take him to buy his 6th pair of skateboard shoes this month just to shut him up for awhile. It's like he wakes up in the morning, gets something in his head and then just can't get off it until he gets what he wants.

If only he would use this persistance and stubborness for good and not evil. Think what you could do, I told him, if you put this much effort into, say, your French homework instead of trying to finagle some electronic gizmo out of your dad. He could move mountains. Seriously. But no, instead he just does a great impression of Rain Man.

So, DOTR and I just look at each other.

I say, "Kmart Sucks".

He says, "Time for Wapner".

I'm sure we'll be bringing home a new computer real soon.

103

Can you imagine being 103? I don't know if I even want to live that long.

Miss Ruth, a matriarch of Blue Devil Land, died yesterday at age 103. I'm pretty sure she was in her normal pew at church 3 weeks ago, dressed in a lovely suit, stockings and heels, with her hair done, nose powdered and fresh lipstick. She lived here her entire life, never more than a few blocks from where she was born, and was a member of our church for 103 years. She was great grandmother to the bride I threw the shower for last fall, who was the first of the "great grands" to be married. She lived in her own home until 10 or so years ago, when she moved into "active" assisted living. They threw a great party for her at the church on her 100th birthday, and in one of the interviews she said the secret to staying alive is to "just keep breathing".

Five years ago, we got a new minister and music director and at Christmastime presented the first of our now annual performance of Nine Lessons and Carols. It begins with a young person of about nine or so reading the first lessons from Genesis, and then the readers get older as the lessons move through the Bible, until the final lesson is read by one of the oldest members of the church. Miss Ruth read that lesson for the first two years. The second year when she was asked to do it again, the music director sent her the passage. She called him and asked him if it was alright if she read the same version as she'd read the year before because she like the way it sounded better. Of course, this was no problem, but he embarrassingly admitted that he didn't remember what version they'd used the year before. Nothing like being shown up on your memory by an almost 100 year old woman!

That year the last two lessons were read by the Head Usher, who can only be described as loveably cranky at age 80-something (she died a couple years ago, and when the minister opened the envelope with her very, very detailed directions for her funeral, the first thing it said was "DO NOT say how old I am!" and I'm not sure anybody really knew!) and Miss Ruth. Maggie had a lot of trouble walking up steps and used a cane, so instead of sitting in the sanctuary and walking to the lectern to read, she decided to sit in the pew behind the lectern. She asked Miss Ruth if she wanted to sit up there with her, since they were the last two readers, but Miss Ruth declined. She said "I can walk up there just fine."

She walked into the church on her own the last day she was there. If I live to be 103, or 73, 83 or 93, I hope I can still do that.

'Cause you gotta just keep breathing.

Ying Yang

The good news: I finally bought a new dishwasher.

The bad news: They had to order the one I wanted, so it won't be in the store for at least 3 weeks.

Guess what I get to do today? Dishes. Laundry. Dishes and Laundry.

I need to write a song.

The Boys of Summer

"Baseball and Me: The Epic"

Coming soon.

How old ARE you, anyway?

DOTR and I are a bit obsessed about how old we are lately. Or I should say, how old we seem to be. He has his 30th high school reunion coming up this summer, and he's been checking out the pictures at Classmates.com and he can't believe how old some of his classmates look. He said one guy looks like Santa Claus, complete with snow white hair and beard.

We're both the oldest in our respective families, so we've recently become more aware of how old we look relative to our siblings and our goal, since we are vain, self centered, high achieving firstborns, is to look younger than our siblings. It'll be a stretch for me and my brother, since he's 8 years younger than me and he doesn't have a passle of kids to give him gray hair, but with my sister (3.5 yrs. younger) and DOTR's sibs (1 yr, 2 yrs, 4.5 yrs younger)...well, I think we could take them with just a little work. Favorite SIL and BIL are exactly our ages, respectively, so they're our fiercest competition. They run and tan, so they've got us on the skinny, but we've got them on the wrinkles. (Isn't it fun to be in a game that only you know you're playing!)

We could probably get away with it if our kids weren't so darn old. By the time we got married, we'd been together for six years, so it didn't seem like a big deal that we had kids right away. We had a house, good jobs, so what the heck....why not? Well, because unless you want people to think you had kids when you were in high school, it dates you, that's why. And you don't meet anybody your own age, because all the other parents are at least 5-10 years older. We actually met parents our own age when our younger kids got involved in stuff.

We did have some couple friends at our old church when our kids were little. They were both the same age as DOTR and they had a son who was a year older than J1. We palled around with them and some other couples in our Sunday School class for quite a few years. One couple moved, we moved and went to a different church, then they got divorced and we all sorta grew apart. One day I saw the wife at our new church and she introduced me to her new (much younger) husband and her two (very small) kids. Her older son was a junior in HS at that time and had decided to live with his dad, so here she was back in my life with an entirely different family. Kinda weird.

So what really stinks (for me anyway) is that because she seems young and has little kids, she is in an entirely different social group and gets to hang with all the young, cool girls (the ones that I am like in my mind) and I have to hang with the 40-50 somethings (the ones I am like in reality). Yeah, depressing as hell. And she's older than me. Which I like to point out to a couple of my younger church friends whenever possible. Actually, as much as possible.



I bought this book and took the real age quiz at http://www.realage.com/. My real age is 5 years younger than my calendar age, according to my quiz, but they docked me for not flossing enough, being overweight and not knowing my cholesterol or blood pressure (they always tell me, but the numbers mean nothing to me so I never remember it). I bet I could take it down a few more if I really tried.

So I might.

Mmmmm, good!

Finally got around to climbing Mt. Laundry. Can't do the laundry without this, Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day lavendar fabric softener. Nobody likes any of the other smells, and it's always sold out at Harry's/Whole Foods (I've been known to get down on my hands and knees and look waaaaay in the back in the hopes there's one hiding somewhere behind the geranium and lemon verbena!)

A little bit goes a long, long way and our clothes still smell good even after they've been in the drawer for awhile.

Love it.

Root Day Wrap Up

It was pouring when I got my hair done, so I just left it curly today instead of the usual stick straightness I enjoy for 3 days after root day. Oh well.

I then went to the lamest of all lameness malls and pillaged through the clearance racks at Macy's where I scored not one, not two, but THREE cocktail dresses that were over 50% off. Two black and one navy in varying degrees of formality. I could try to find pictures, but I'm supposed to be working on a spreadsheet (taking frequent breaks, obviously). Maybe later. But I should be set for all the "dinner attire" nights for London anyway.

I caved and drank my coffee through a straw this morning and then immediately brushed my teeth with whitening toothpaste. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm glad I opted for the ZOOM instead of just having the trays for 2 weeks, because my teeth are so sensitive, there's no way I could've done it. I'm supposed to use the trays and solution for 30 minutes for 5 days, but yesterday I only made it 15 minutes. Some of it got up into a filling that is evidently failing, because it was so painful it about knocked me out, so that was the end of that.

As I said before, I was not that into the tooth whitening, but I can tell quite a difference when I look at my own teeth, but I barely noticed it when DOTR had it done a few years ago. We both have fairly small teeth, so it's probably not as noticeable as on people who have very large teeth. I'm more anxious to get my bonding done since there are cracks in both my front teeth, so the whitening is secondary. So I'd say my results met my expectations, since my expectations weren't very high!

Hello, has anyone seen Easter clothes for grownups? Because I didn't see one springlike dress and it's only 6 weeks away, people in the stores! Everybody in my house wears grownup sizes except one person, so I hope they get something in soon. I did see an absolutely adorable patch madras suit jacket in the window of The Childrens Place, so if you have a little boy, you might want to check it out. It was so cute.

J3 has "Girlbreak" on Saturday night, which is our school's version of a Sadie Hawkins dance. The girl that he really wanted to ask to Homecoming asked him, so he's had a little spring in his step for the past couple of weeks. She was in his kindergarten and first grade classes (and other times in elementary school, too) and I have the cutest picture that she drew of them holding hands when he was student of the week in 1st grade. "J3 is my friend!"

I'll have to dig it out, because what good am I as a mother if I can't embarrass my kids.

Five Things You Didn't Know About Ash Wednesday

Courtesy of the program director at our church, so #1 probably doesn't mean much to you. And I can't go because it's the last home wrestling meet of the season. :-(

5. Up until the 7th century, Lent began on the Sunday (Quadragestima Sunday) six weeks prior to Easter, but the four extra days were eventually added to parallel Jesus' 40 days of fasting in the wilderness.

4. From at least as early as the 8th century, this day was known as dies cinerum(day of ashes). This reflects the central ritual of this holiday, the placing of ashes on the foreheads of members of the congregation . The ashes are usually placed in the shape of a cross to symbolize mourning and penitence.

3. The ashes used on Ash Wednesday are usually derived from burning the blessed palm branches left from the last Palm Sunday celebration.

2. At some churches, participants wash the ashes off before leaving the church to symbolize that they have been cleansed of their sins; in other churches, participants leave the ashes on when they leave, thereby &quotcarrying the cross out into the world."

1. We will observe Ash Wednesday with Holy Communion and the Imposition of Ashes on February 6, 2008 at 6:30 p.m. in the Sanctuary. Dinner will be served beforehand starting at 5:15 p.m. in the Family Life Hall.

Who's zoomin' who?

I'm not zoomin' anybody. My butt is draaaagggging.

Part of this fabulous ZOOM teeth whitening is the fact that you can't eat or drink anything that stains while you're doing it (7 days after the initial treatment).

No coffee.

No tea.

No diet coke.

My three main sources of caffiene.

That leaves Mountain Dew, and while wildly popular with the testosterone wing of the house....well, all I can say is blech.

So, I'm taking a nap.

So much for getting to those dishes. And laundry.

Mardi Gras?

Or Shrove Tuesday?

Do you celebrate either one? At our old church we used to have a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper. One of my friends was from England and they had pancake races on Shrove Tuesday, it was actually her village that they show doing it on CNN. My friend from France loved Mardi Gras because when she was little she got to dress up. Back then they didn't celebrate Halloween at all in France, so Mardi Gras was your chance to get dressed up like a princess. We have Mardi Gras masks from Venice. Legend has it that they wore them from Epiphany to Mardi Gras because you could get away with all kinds of things as long as you were masked.

I've never been to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and don't really have any desire to go, either. One of the kids had a classmate in preschool whose family was from one of the NO 'burbs, and they always went home for the week before for all the family parades. I think that year their entire extended family was dressing up as dalmations and their float was going to be a firetruck. So I guess that would be fun, when it's more like our big town celebrations that we looked forward to in the summer (Old Settler's Picnic, Jaycee Jamboree, Play Days, etc.) The whole French Quarter thing is not my scene.

I also have some friends from Mobile, which I believe is the oldest Mardi Gras celebration in the US. Not so wild, I think.

Guess I'd better wash some dishes if I'm going to make pancakes.

Super Tuesday

The kids are home from school today because it's election day. DOTR works the polls with all the old folks, so he's been gone since 6:00 am. He gets home about 8:30 or 9:00 after they break everything down. Makes you appreciate all the old people who have the patience (and stamina) to sit there all day...and night. DOTR loves it because he gets to see and talk to all the neighbors when they come in to vote. I would consider that torture, but he's a salesman, so he's in his element working a room. We can't even get gas without him finding out where everybody at all the other pumps is from and what college football team they like. Yeah, cute. For about a minute.

My dishes are piling up even higher, since I came home yesterday afternoon and crashed because I was so tired from my wild night of watching DVD's until the wee hours. DOTR called and reminded me that I had to go to our office condo owners association's annual meeting because he was setting up for the election. If I wasn't half asleep before that....snooze. Something about fire lines, termites.....not really sure, and I couldn't give a very good report when DOTR asked. I had to go straight to the dentist yesterday morning after I dropped J3 at school to get my teeth ZOOMed, so I didn't get to go back to bed. The ZOOMing was freaky. Hope I didn't snore because I dozed off a couple of times while they were shining that thing right in my mouth.

It's pretty amazing, though. I can see a huge difference on how white my teeth look--it's not something I really think about, but I have to get the bonding on my front teeth fixed soon and they didn't want to match new bonding to my coffee/tea/red wine/diet coke stained 45 year old teeth. What. Ever. I chipped one of my front teeth in 6th grade, so this has been an ongoing thing every few years since then. If I don't want to look like I need to buy a doublewide up to Shadowood Mobile Home Park, I need to get the new bonding done. Soon.

We have quite a slacker month of school ahead. Today they're off for election day, tomorrow is an early release day, next week J4 gets out at 12:30 all week for middle school conferences and the following week is the February Break, and they're out all week. When I was a kid, I think after Christmas vacation we got half a day on Good Friday and Easter Monday off, and that was it. Well, we did get snow days here and there, but it had to be really good (like no power) for a snow day. No wonder they have to go to school in the middle of the summer.

And, thank goodness. Tomorrow is root day. Between my teeth and my roots, I'm a shoe in for the trailer court. Not that I'm wearin' any.

Shoes, that is.

Souper Duper

It was just a super duper weekend. Here are all the things I did NOT do:

1) Laundry
2) Clean my nasty bathroom
3) Watch the Super Bowl
4) Dishes (still no new dishwasher)

On Saturday I just sat on my butt in my pajamas and watched BBC America (yes, all my gross out shows were on), a bunch of stuff on HGTV and Food Network, with a splash of Fine Living tossed in for fun. Read all the newspapers and drank tons of coffee.

Then I made soup. Three batches. Chili, Chicken Noodle and Vegetable. Filled a bunch of freezer bags and left enough in the fridge for DOTR and me to eat for lunch this week.

Sunday I had acolyte duty at church, so I was gone all morning. When I got home, Super Bowl frenzy was in high gear, so I escaped the piles of laundry and dishes and took off for the "upscale" area of the county and did a little Steinmart shopping, Trader Joe's, The Avenue (shopping center) and the new Target. Bought the DVD set CSI Season 7 and at 6 pm decided to watch it. Yeah, all of it. And the bonus DVD, too. After fast forwarding just a little bit, I went to bed at 2:00 am.

Six o'clock comes reeeeealllly early.

Monday morning. Piles of dishes. Piles of laundry.

What was I thinking?

Much Ado about Nothing

Wow, another Saturday alone. Score!

I could be mother of the year and go sit at a wrestling meet all day long, but since DOTR is there and J3 is likely to get pinned in the first period (as per usual), I'm asking "why?". He's only a sophomore, but wrestling Varsity and he's had a tough year. He's not even close to done growing (DOTR wrestled 132 his soph year and 175 his junior year), but most of these kids he's had to wrestle are 145 lb. seniors who are as big as they're going to get and strong. He looks like a little string bean out there.

J4 had his end of the season conference tournament last night and got 2nd, although DOTR was sure he could've won but he did something "stupid" and ended up losing. Something stupid for a 13 year old or something stupid for a 47 year old, I asked. Just something stupid. Well, ok then. Middle school wrestling is quite interesting because our conference is all the private schools in Atlanta. Sometimes I think they're all a little afraid to come to the 'hood when we have home matches--the parents all look nervously at their Mercedes SUV's in the parking lot, like they may never see them again. Our middle school sports are all run through the high school athletic department, and our surrounding county schools all run their middle school programs privately through "associations", so never the twain shall meet until high school. J4 was thrilled with his finish, and he was in the largest weight class (doesn't every kid in middle school weigh 95 lbs?) There were two brackets of 12 kids in his weight class and all the others only had one bracket of 12. So he's pleased with his result, even though DOTR says "you don't get many chances in life to win a championship". I think the problem was that J4 had won against this kid several times in the past, but the worst was that he was from our local private school and we know his parents. So DOTR had to sulk for half the night, until I told him he was just going to have to accept that J4 is not that competitive and get over it.

Why did I have boys again? Oh yeah, so I could listen to all this frustrated dad crap.

And then the fun begins. We have a week's reprieve because J3 is still wrestling, but BASEBALL starts at the high school on Monday. Baseball parents are the worst. Psycho. And then some.

Can't wait.