We are in the throes of Poinsettia sales this week. It is a bit nutty, but I have it down to a science now. What used to take me literally hours... I can do in one.
Bones first Vocal Jury is on the 20th. He has to have a B or better to stay in the program. There is much singing going on in this house right now, and it's not Christmas music.
His voice is getting so much deeper.
He hung a big sign on his door, hanging from the door jam, so he walks RIGHT INTO IT whenever he leaves or enters his room.
It's to remind him...
Work is crazy and I'm about to have to go full time to meet our needs. I found out that a couple weeks before Thanksgiving while on a three week vacation, one of my co-workers nearly died.
He went into congestive heart failure as his heart continued to work with a blockage. Interestingly enough, his symptoms were NOT normal, he passed a stress test, and he was diagnosed with 'having a bad case of arthritis'. For four weeks they monkeyed around with meds to try to ease his 'arthritic pain', pain so bad sometimes he couldn't come in because he couldn't focus. Turns out... it wasn't arthritis, even though his body has it according to the Xrays.
The pain got so intense he dragged himself to the ER, where the ER attending physician, admitted him immediately. He was informed, if he'd waited just 24 more hours, he'd have been dead.
He's fine now
So I'm absorbing his work (he had been helping ME out), plus my own heavy load, and I found out I might get called out into the field in the next few weeks. I could be in a back shop again, which would make me very happy.
Christmas is coming and when I asked Bones and T what they wanted, I found their lists full of NERF and Legos. Wow. Only one or two video games and they weren't 'kill everyone' games. I was happy.
We don't love Urban Meyer in this house.
I'm sick of American politics. Granted, it is nice that nobody is being gunned down in the street, but I'm pretty sick of it already.
"Newt" called my parents house every day. What is up with that? (We never answered.)
I have the weirdest crap at my desk. If I could take a picture I would. (No cameras allowed.)
I have a empty pink box that used to hold chocolate. It came from my boss one birthday... and he has since died. I can't get rid of it.
I have a pink monkey that says, 'Kiss me', from Bones.
I have some sick syrupy calendar with happy thoughts and hearts on it. I'm not sure why I bought it last year, but... I gotta get back to Chick fil a. The mainlining happy drug calendar does not suit my personality.
I have this funky blue fuzzy bird made out of a pen, from VW. I have no clue what it is... I swear, it's like a big blue fuzzy flamingo. But Blue. And fuzzy/fluffy feathers. It sits on a shelf. You can't miss it.
I have a black sweater hanging on the wall of my cube. The sweater is NEVER worn, it just hangs there. And it has a chocolate Easter bunny in the pocket. From VW. For awhile we hid the bunny at each other's desks. The bunny now resides in a pocket of the sweater. It'll be there forever or until VW has a chocolate attack and comes down and eats it.
Hanging on the hanger is a necklace with a light up GE glow gizmo on it... it may blink. It was a gag gift from a co-worker since GE is the competitor and I have Eagle stickers on my desk. (It's obvious where my allegiances lie.)
FOR YEARS, it was not obvious if a woman or a man sat at my desk.
It's crazy frickin' obvious now...
I have osteopenia and have had it, to varying degrees, since I was 36, for those of you who did not know.
Actually, the story goes, my Mom was diagnosed with osteoporosis around the age of 55. (I may be off by a couple years, it may have been 57, but 55 sticks in my head.) She was told she had the bones of a woman over 20 years older than she was at the time. We were horrified. This is a woman who watches her diet, has always exercised, but here she was, diagnosed, and NOT diagnosed because the doctor caught it, but because SHE insisted on being tested.
A good thing that came of it is her doctor became a HUGE advocate for women getting tested early. My Mom was the catalyst for that, my Mom and her telling him he WOULD test her and why.
He got the religion.
It's hard to argue with Mom when she's done her research. She is thorough.
Mom is 24 years older than I. I was 31 when she was diagnosed, just having had my second child, if I recall. By the time I had Bones, it started rolling around in my head, that if Mom had the bones of a 75 year old woman at age 55, what did she have... at 35?
Add to that, I too had three pregnancies and I breastfed. Babies are human leaches. I used to tell people, "They are leaches! Leaches I say! They are going to take from me what they need and leave me with nothing but a shell of myself!"
Say that with much flair and hand waving and you get the general jist of my dramatic 'Babies are leaches' performance.
So by age 36, I went to my OBGYN and said, 'I want a bone density scan'.
He said, "Bou, you're too young. You're THIRTY-SIX. We don't do scans on women this young."
To which I replied, "You do now..." and I laid out my data, telling him I was trying to extroplate as to when my Mom fell into the risk zone, that surely it had to be around my age and I wanted a baseline data point.
It is tough to argue with me when I've done my research. I am thorough.
And he acquiesced as he has been known to do with me frequently, calling me to my friends, "Dr. Bou", and he had me in for a bone density scan the next week with a radiologist he knew.
Three days later when he got the results he called me and said, "Bou, I don't know what to say. You... have osteopenia. You were right... it has started..."
It doesn't take rocket science folks. It has to start somewhere, and when you're a petite woman, who has maintained a weight typically below 130 lbs most of her life, and then did the whole 'leach thing' three times... there is a pretty dang good probability that there are going to be issues, in particular since petite women are high risk.
Bonus for me, I never smoked. And I'm not Asian. And I don't have excessive alcohol consumption (I don't drink at all).
There are many things I've done over the years to try to keep it at bay. I've done a lot of strength training in the gym, I took Karate for years, I ran a marathon. High impact is good.
Taking additional Calcium is supposed to be good too... which is where my story REALLY begins.
I'm not big on taking calcium pills. You have to take something like FOUR of them a day and they're frickin' horse pills. Huge. And if it doesn't come combined with Vit D and magnesium, then you have to take those too. I hate that. I hate taking a fistfull of crap that I'm not sure is doing anything.
Besides, my Mom on a lark took one of those big horse pills and put it in a small bit of vinegar to see if it would break down after so much time. Part of that pill was left after an hour. How much is REALLY being absorbed in your stomach? Really?
Last night, I was at a healthfood store getting more of my whey protein for the shakes I drink for breakfast. I said to the guy, 'I am waiting for them to come up with calcium in liquid form."
He looked up from the register and said, "They do. I'll show you..."
He took me to the bottles of Calcium (bonus, they included magnesium and Vit D) and said cheerfully, "You have a choice! Strawberry or blueberry?"
And he waited. Smiling.
I grimaced and said more stoically, "This can't be good. If they have to flavor it, it tastes like crap..."
He looked at me realizing I was probably right and I finally said, "Ok, strawberry. It's probably the most benign."
Folks, there were warning bells ALL over that I did NOT catch. One, it is flavored. Two, it said to refrigerate. Three, it didn't slosh.
I tried it tonight, opening it and finding a thick white substance. Something was ringing in the back of my head, "NOT GOOD! NOT GOOD! STAY AWAY!" and still I did not listen.
I took out a tablespoon and slowly, this crap poured out like glue and it suddenly occured to me what it reminded me of.
Barium. I had an upper GI a few years ago. They flavored it... orange.
Barium. Calcium. Only the first few letters are changed. If you have to drink anything that ends in "IUM", chances are, it's not a good thing.
Chalk. It tasted like strawberry chalk.
WTF was I expecting? I'm so stupid. I'm asking for liquid calcium and I thought it would come out the consistency of Dimetap?
I said to my Mom tonight, "At least I only have to drink one tablespoon twice a day instead of jugs or cups." One tablespoon keeps the gag reflex away.
I dunno. I'm thinking osteoporosis may not be the worse alternative. We shall see...
... invented Photoshop. Or the ability to alter photos no matter the software.
We took our family picture today. I bought a great button down gray shirt that I thought hid most of my figure flaws, of which there are many at 46. It wasn't too clingy, showing the extra body that came with having three children and the fact I like carbs.
The women sat in the front chairs with my Mom and Mo each with the two Flambinas on their lap. I sat on an end chair, babyless. The men and grandsons on the back grow, standing behind us, completed the pictures.
After several pictural mishaps, we finally had our shots complete, loaded them up on my Dad's computer and...
... every dang shot of me, as I had my body turned, had my blouse open at the top buttons for God and Country to be able to see in my blouse to my black bra.
Bonus for me, my bra matched my shoes.
TGOO grayed it all out to match my shirt. Can you imagine, ten years ago?
Meanwhile, we're all laughing, as Flam starts to quote that Seinfeld episode... "Is that a nipple?" (Embedding had been disabled...)
A most wonderful Thanksgiving, we had. Our annual toast to George Soule was made, for without his arriving on the Mayflower, my Mother and all her offspring would not be here.
There was good food, football (not sure it was good football) and lots of smooching on and playing with babies.
The Flambina had me collect acorns in an old Tonka truck that my folks kept. (We collected 'atorns'.)
We have much to be thankful for this year. It is easy to gripe throughout the year about things that happen throughout the year, but overall, when we look back on our year, we have much for which to be blessed.
We have health, jobs, love, and good people that surround us.
A Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. May we always be so fortunate to be able to look through the weeds and find the good.
My goal for this Thanksgiving was to get Mo and Flam their quilt.
Five years I've been making this quilt. For this quilt, I bought a new machine, learned how to use a long arm machine and rented one for some of the more intricate quilting, and ended up changing the finished look by doing something called stippling.
I think we decided that this Double Wedding Ring Quilt, took me well over 100 hours to make. I chose the fabrics when they got engaged in July of 2006. The final ring, I decided to make THEIR ring, and I combined fabrics from both families.
This is the start and finish, chronicled for me and my sister.
Picking the fabrics. (I just loved the Cherry fabric at the time. I did this entire quilt based on the fact I was in love with the Cherry fabric.)
The back. (Cherries again.)
The front finished. (This is the top, rings all put together and pieced onto the top. It is ready to be sandwiched with the back and batting.)
Laying the back on my floor to start the sandwich process. (In case you ever wondered, but were afraid to ask, how one puts together a quilt. I wash my floor and use pins and masking tape. I think this shows how dang big this quilt is. You can also see how we have to piece together a back... fabric isn't that big.)
The batting. (I use a 100% cotton batting. I've started to use a bamboo on some of my newer quilts, a hypoallergenic. It's not cold enough for us to use something like wool.)
The final sandwich, everything layered. (This is where the pinning starts.)
Their ring with the rest. (The center embroidered pattern for Mo and Flam's ring is in red, blue, and green thread, hand sewn. The centers of the others are in white and were done with a long arm machine. The stippling in between the circles was done on my machine.)
Their ring. (The red fabrice is from a dress from Mo, when she was two. My Mom made her the red velvet dress. There are two other fabrics in the ring from my family, 1920's feedsack cloth that has been handed down. From Flam's family, I got photo copies of his baby quilts on fabric and cut them to fit into the ring. It is a merging of things from both families.)
And this is the final product. It was just one obstacle after another finishing it this week. I traveled with my machine, only for it to quit stitching properly. I took it to a local shop (King's Sewing in Pensacola... LOVE THEM!) where we found it was my fault for not threading the bobbin right, then as I was at the end... I RAN OUT OF THREAD, and had to run out and buy more. Today.
I finished this quilt, 10 minutes before Flam and Mo arrived with their two babies.
Finished quilt with the back...
It is done. Five years, well over 100 hours. It's theirs.
So we made it to Sunny Pensacola, where I swear it is a balmy mild summer day, not Fall.
It's funny watching my kids here sometimes. One of my sisters in law was just visiting our home, and it's just different how my kids are with each set of 'family'. With my husband's family, there is a lot of loud talk and commotion. There is laughter, political discussion, and everything is LOUD.
With my family, it is more sedate, still a lot of laughing, but more quiet.
Football was on last night and I looked over on the couch, and Mr. T was kind of nestled into my bro, watching with him. At some point, he fell asleep on TN. It just seemed natural. That's how my boys are with my family. They are very affectionate. Puppy-like is how I see it.
And when I watched T watching football with my bro, leaning into him, I thought, "this is how they were as babies." When my children were small, they'd climb right up into some member of my family's lap and play or watch TV. Now as bigger people, they don't sit in their laps, but they're quick to move into my family's personal space and hug them or sit close with them on the couch. There is no awkwardness, just affection.
I had to run out and buy some clothes as I'd only brought sweaters. Dang if my Mom doesn't run into people she knows everywhere. It's kind of funny.
The babies arrive on Wednesday. We are SO excited! We have babies to smooch!
We are off in the morning to see my folks for Thanksgiving. It's been a busy week.
My husband and I went to a wedding tonight. I wasn't so excited. It wasn't someone I knew and I'm a bit jaded about weddings. The stats are 50% end in divorce and I wonder of the 50% that aren't divorced, how many are REALLY happy.
How many are tolerating or just going through the motions? I think it's pretty safe to say that stat is pretty high, making the overall 'happily married' a pretty low statistic.
Family weddings? I'm good. Other than that? I struggle.
Anyway, so we went to this wedding and fortunately were sat with some folks I really like.
Behind us was a table of some of the Groom's friends. They came across as a bit of a classless crowd, not settling down for the Best Man's speech.
Let me state up front, this wedding took place on Palm Beach and the reception took place at a very high end country club in the North County.
My husband had walked away, and I noticed there was a bit of commotion at our table. The girl next to me was saying something to someone across the table and it appeared crude. (This girl is a friend of mine.) I looked at her quizzically and said, "What? What are you doing?" To which she got a weird look and said, "Did you not see what is going on behind us?"
And behind us, at the rowdy table, there was a girl with a dress that was shorter, perhaps 2 inches above her knee and her date/boyfriend/husband, had his hand UP her dress. And it stayed that way for a good 10 to 15 minutes as he altered what he was doing.
I did a double take. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I looked back at my table, with all eyes upon me as they'd already seen it, and the look of shock, horror, and revulsion was obviously so evident on my face, everyone burst out laughing.
Folks... these were late 30 something, 40 something people. These weren't teenagers or edgy 20 somethings. These were like... middle aged people.
And the remarks at our table just slunk down to new lows as double entendres and twisted words came out of everyone's mouth.
I'm not virginal 46 year old. I've been around the block.
But for the Love of God, just when you think you've seen and heard everything, something happens that makes you think, "Our society is going to hell in a handbasket..."
As we went to the car, one of the couples said to me, "OK, Bou, you have a good one?" to which I replied, "Oh... a night to remember! For sure..."
Blogging from my folks' home starting tomorrow...
I've been married twenty years.
I've been married ALMOST half my life.
I've been MARRIED twenty years.
I've been married TWENTY years.
Where did it go? How did it pass so quickly? How did we go from single, planning our future to being... midway through? Thinking about having kids, wondering how many, thinking two, expecting maybe a boy and a girl, to having three boys, two teenage and one who will be in seven months.
Living in our little house, our first house, very cozy and quaint, with so little backyard that our lawn mower used to break because it was never on for more than five minutes at a time. Literally. We couldn't get it broken in. It took two passes to cut the lawn. Some of our neighbors just pulled up the grass and put in stone. My Mom and Dad used to say that our neighborhood was for the Newly Wed or Nearly Dead.
I was a new engineer at a Fortune 50 company, my husband had been in practice for four years. I was 26. He was 31.
At dinner tonight I started rattling off all the people who were with us at our wedding, but no longer alive. His Mom and Dad, his Aunt Maria (who looked like a cross between a troll and Dr. Ruth), both my grandmothers, my uncle, Joe's wife... and then of course the babies who weren't born.
I said to him, "And remember? Craig had just come back from the War. (He was a POW.) He was so thin... 120 pounds?" It's been 20 years since he was shot down. That is odd too. I remember being almost as excited he was alive and with us, as I was that we were getting married.
Now, I'm back with another engineering firm, working as a subcontractor to the same Fortune 50 company, up to my eyeballs on the back end of a very very fast aircraft. My husband moved his practice and has become very well known in his profession, lecturing nationally with prospects of going international. He can do that now that the children are older. Our children are six years from all being in college. We're looking at additional cars, getting licenses, talking college, and thinking about what college majors can lend itself to a good job. "Mom, should I become a doctor or an engineer?" "Mom, I'm debating between finance and medicine..." "Mom, I think I'm going to go into sales... Do you think I could be a chef?" (We told Bones he should be the SINGING chef.)
I don't blog much on my husband or us. It's a respect issue. He didn't ask to be in this world of blogging, so other than my poking fun at me or telling a funny story that he happens to be involved with, I don't blog much on him. As you know, I call him Hunhead. That is our pet name for each other actually... started 20 years ago.
So... here is us, our engagement picture.
I cannot believe... how young we were. Holy crap.
My eldest is on a college tour throughout the State of Fl... six schools in three days. When they offered it up for $375, all expenses paid, we jumped at it.
1) I don't have to haul him to every State institution.
2) I don't have to haul my kids as well as we'd probably go as a family.
3) He didn't have to listen to our opinion; he could form his own while talking to his friends.
We have seven State public schools in Florida. Some of them are huge, some are smaller. You all have heard of the Florida Gators and the Florida State Seminoles, but there is also North Florida, Central Florida, Gulfcoast, South Florida, and Central Florida, not to forget my alma mater, West Florida, that they are NOT visiting.
He has been pretty bent that he wanted to go to UCF, which is the 2nd or 3rd largest school in the nation. He has friends whose siblings go there and he's heard all that is grand and he just KNEW this is where he wanted to go.
I've not been so sure. I think he prefers to be a big fish in a small pond and I did tell him, at a big school like UCF, you aren't a number, but an approximation. "There are approximately 62,512 students..."
But it's his deal and I told him he had to figure it out.
He's 1/3 of the way through his tour now, having seen UCF and UNF, with North Florida being the equivalent of the school I went to... 13,000 students.
I sent him a txt and asked him what he thought of UCF and the reply was, "It was OK". I could sense disappointment. I asked about UNF and got, "I really liked it..."
So we will see. There is no doubt in my mind that he could get into any he wanted to except UF. UF is very competitive and honestly, I told him as great a school it is, he needs to remember, they still have 800 kids in a class. Ringo has good grades and he's going to do well on the ACT and SAT. Plus, with Eagle Scout and his music, he'll be pretty well rounded. We're not stressed.
UNF has a GREAT music program, as an aside.
Mr. T is very frustrated with his Biology teacher. I'm not sure what the deal is with Catholic Schools and their incredibly sucky science programs. I know two points don't make a trend, but our data points point to a serious problem in this department.
He got in the car the other day, over himself, the situation and his teacher.
Done, he was.
I said to him, "Listen... they aren't going to spoon feed you in Honors Biology..."
He looked at me with complete exasperation and said, "MOM! I'm not ASKING to be spoonfed. I'm just asking for a little food!"
When he gets in the car now I say, 'So, how was Bio? Any food today?" He always shakes his head...
Our 20 year anniversary is tomorrow. Yikes! How did that happen? I remember when my parents were married 20 years!
Funny story about that baby quilt that I posted a picture of yesterday. The bloggers know this story.
When I put a block quilt together, I pieced together the pinwheel blocks, then pinned them intermittently between the solid blocks. After the row was sewn, I pulled out the pins, pinned the rows together and sewed. Then I pulled the pins out, pinned the border on and sewed. When the entire top if finished, I pull out the pins, I sandwich it together, pin some more and quilt it.
There is a step there that is important, pulling the pins out.
I got all the way to quilting and I noticed this nearly 2 inch piece of metal in between two blocks. To my horror, I'd not only forgotten to pull a pin out, but it was now quilted INTO the blanket. I used pins with a bright yellow ball on the end, and a 1.5 inch pin itself.
In my head, I've now envisioned the pin getting all rusty and some baby getting poked with it and getting tetanus, because that's how my brain works.
So I went out into the garage and got some pliers, moved the head of the pin to the edge of the fabric and snapped off the metal from as close as I could get to the head of the pin, and then pulled the pin out, leaving that little ball.
The baby quilt, in one of those squares, has a little yellow ball floating around in it. Every quilt has a mistake or two. As the Quakers used to say, 'Only God is perfect' and they would intentionally put mistakes in their quilts.
The pin head is mine. Although... not intentional.
20 years. I'm dwelling...
I have to post this, a conversation between my sister and me.
Me: What's your anniversary date?
Mo: Umm. I dunno. When did I get married? April? 27th 28th?
Me: We gotta get this right. It's going on the back of your quilt.
Mo: Oh. Let me look at the wall. *comes back* The 28th.
Me: I need the year.
Mo: For the Love of God. You're really getting in the weeds here.
Me: Well it's 2007 or 2008. I dunno.
Mo: Let's see. Well, we just celebrated four years.
Me: That makes it 2007.
Mo: That sounds about right...
Heh. I've been married 20 years on Wednesday. I got the date right and the number of years. We're even celebrating it on the CORRECT day. I'm making progress.
My sister asked me to post a picture of the last quilt I made. All the bloggers at the last blogmeet saw it, as I was finishing the binding at the time.
This is the littlest Pookie's quilt. I was all about tactile... there are four different textures, flat, velour (light blue), wooly sheep (white) and Elmo silky fuzz (the red).
What I learned during THIS quilt was never ever ever, ever ever ever again, use that Elmo Red fabric again. EVER. I have little pieces of that stuff stuck to everything in my house. It's embedded in the white carpet in my bedroom, all over my dining room chairs and for the longest time there would be pieces of it on my clothing as I left for work. It was the sheddiest material ever made.
That said, it is soft and I think the baby will like it.
The backing is a flannel with baby colored baby feet imprints.
This weekend has been spent playing catch up. Catch up with my life.
For instance, I'm just now finishing Mo's Double Wedding Ring Quilt. That's right. She's been married now... what... four years? Five? They have two children.
And the quilt is just now being finished.
And why would that be? Well, first, it's been a Royal Pain in the A$$. No idea how much I'd bitten off, it is so difficult, but worse still I decided on a Double bed size. Do you know how hard it is to shove a double sized quilt through a sewing machine?
You have to roll up parts of it, slip it through, all the time attempting to manage to stitch where you need to stitch and I don't mind saying, I totally suck at it.
Second, I realized that one of the fabrics I used might bleed when washed. After literally 100+ hours on this quilt, that thought threw me into a tailspin and I put it aside. I couldn't deal. I've made two baby quilts and a few quilts for friends since then. I've talked about her quilt, but couldn't get to it.
I spoke to a Quilt expert this weekened, asking if there was something I could do. She said, "What you have now, Dear, is what we call a Dry Clean Only quilt." And she smiled sweetly.
There is no guarantee the fabric will run, but on the tag I embroider for the back, it may very well say, "Could be Dry Clean Only..."
Either way, I decided enough was enough, and I've been working on it all weekend.
Here is a picture taken five years ago... this was before the wedding, I believe. Since then there has been quilting done on the inside. I'll post a picture when finished. I expect it will be finished by Thanksgiving. All machine work will be complete THIS week with the rest of the hand work in the next 10 days.
I told my Mom, the good thing is, I'm a much better quilter now than I was when I started. The finishing I'm doing now, I was not capable of when I first started this quilt.
Meanwhile, on a funny note, TGOO sent us this video and we laughed. It may be because I'm married to an Italian, but I think not. I did tell my husband to send it to all his cousins...
On from angry sad blogging...
First, the Addams Family was fantastic, we did NOT leave during Intermission, Bones enjoyed it, and I highly recommend it.
When I went to buy our tickets, I went directly to the Box Office, I informed them I was bringing my son and the most important thing was that he could see. I didn't want to pay the big bucks, but he needed to be able to see. We ended up in the lowest balcony and they really were fantastic seats, although I don't think there is a bad seat at the Kravis Center. More fun still, I found out that since I was bringing a student, he and I got tickets for $25. I only had to pay full price for one. Now that I know that... I'll be taking my kids to more things.
We should have anyway. I've been a cultural clod, I guess, as a parent. But we'll be looking into more venues and taking the boys. I just couldn't bring myelf to consistently shell out $500 every time we wanted to see something, but with student discounts, it's doable.
And the Kravis Center may not have Cheesecake... but they have Snowcaps! ARGH! My all time movie favorite candy...
Christmas is approaching, evident by the fact my boss is singing Christmas Carols when doing mundane work. That's one of his idiosyncracies. He sings when bored...
And evidently Christmas is approaching as his songs are more holiday-esque.
From a buddy of mine via email, I give you something to get you started on this holiday season. A most fun video of the Hallelujah Chorus from Alaska... watch it. You'll laugh and smile. I promise.
The kids in the cabinet crack me up...
Tonight I'm out and about with my husband and Bones. Bones' Drama class requires each student to see a play, live theatre if you will. We have but six more weeks to make it happen, and so when I saw the Addams Family playing at the Kravis Center, I immediately went down and got the three of us tickets. (When presenting a Student ID, tickets are CHEAP. SuuuuWEET!)
The other two being uninterested, homework, etc, although I suspect they'd rather exist in a house without Bones.
Bones is, of course, giving me all sorts of static about 'having to go', when we all know that when he gets there he will be enthralled, it being a musical and his being a vocal major and all.
Tired of hearing his crap, I said, "Fine, we'll leave at Intermission..." He seems distressed that it has the potential to be a late night out on a school night, yet I didn't hear those complaints last night as I yelled repeatedly for him to go to bed.
Go figure. 'Twill be interesting if we REALLY leave at Intermission.
Meanwhile, today was Cheesecake Delivery Day, the fundraiser his vocal group has at school. What does that mean in this house? Normal houses canvas the neighborhood hoping to find neighbors to buy cheesecakes. When one lives with three boys... the cheesecakes are bought for home consumption.
Currently in my fridge I have pumpkin, raspberry, chocolate, and cookies and cream cheesecakes, which irritates the crap out of me since I'm trying so dang hard to eat clean and it's a struggle with... FOUR cheesecakes in the house.
And cheesecake being one of my favorites ...
So we're off to see the Addams Family. Bonus for me, there's no cheesecake in the theatre.
I know this is my happy place... but... I am so upset about what is happening at Penn State, I'm nearly physically sick.
It has nothing to do with Joe Pa, not that I'm horribly disappointed in HIM as a person. It's not about my disgust in him.
It's in my disgust in everyone. Everywhere.
Where... where was everyone's moral compass? All this time... where was that little voice inside them saying, "this is very wrong, this is very bad, this has to be stopped"?
I can't stop talking about it. I'm that upset.
I had something of a much more minor scale happen to me, something I witnessed two months ago, something that I said to someone, "If I don't do something about this, my moral compass will not point North..." And for the last two months, I have been quietly pursuing, righting a wrong.
A wrong that only a handful of us knew was wrong. A wrong that nobody was ever going to find out about. A wrong that *I* knew was there, something single handedly *I* could do NOTHING about, not having the power, but every chance I had... I chipped away to correct it, exploring different avenues, quietly researching who I could confide in that DID have the power.
And it was changed as of last week.
And it was small and it bothered me as if it was a big wrong.
And what we are reading about was a BIG wrong, the biggest wrong of all big wrongs... something so ghastly that it chills one's blood and makes one want to vomit bile... and yet... no one... over all those years... had a moral compass to do the right thing.
No one had that little voice...
I am so sad.
Nearly more sad than angry. To all of them... who should have defended the innocent... and did not... may there be a pox upon them... may they f*cking rot.
As many know, I was in Atlanta and Tennessee last weekend, for to see my sister and to attend a gathering of what has become a group of warm good friends. It is a yearly jaunt I make, starting six years ago when my sister, Mo, was single and we'd do this weekend together, to now where she is married with children, and I now hug on nieces and take off for a couple days to hang with friends, then to come back and hug on nieces some more.
The Flambina is coming up on three years old this January, with her younger sister just having hit six months. She is a great big sister, viewing her baby sister as both an audience and someone to shower affection upon. It is often you hear, "Baby! Baby! Watch me!" as she tries some new trick.
Fortunately it is always something benign, like twirling in her tutu, as opposed to the Redneck howl of "Hey, Y'all, Watch this!"
Flambina is yummy and smart. She has a mind of her own and she is into repetition. Her favorite toy of the day was a felt kitty cat purse I picked up at Target for a buck. It is her "Kitty Cat Pocketbook" and she carried it everywhere.
She and I had to play the Trick or Treat game, where I stood inside the back door to the house, she walked up holding her Kitty Cat pocketbook as her candy container...
Her: *knock knock*
Me *opening door*: well, hello!
Her: Trick or Treat!
Me: Don't you look pretty! Look at you!
Her: Thank you!
Me: Let me get you some candy... *putting fake candy in her kitty cat pocketbook*
Her: Thank you! Buh, Bye!
And she'd walk away, I'd close the door, she'd spin around, and we'd do it... again... and again... and again.
At one point she got in her wagon, while I pulled her around the 10 x 10 porch, until we stopped at a 'new neighborhood' and we played for... another 10 minutes.
Holy crap. I couldn't quit laughing.
In particular as she was dressed like this....
Those would be psychadelic sunglasses with frog boots, a tutu, and under that pink jacket is her Brady Jersey, ever the Patriots fan. She's all fashion...
More on the blog meet tomorrow.
My eldest son came home from school the other day and informed me he wants to learn the Marimba.
That would be because we obviously don't play enough instruments. Let's see... he plays the electric bass in jazz. (He can read electric bass music in any form from regular bass clef to tab.) He has a drum set and has been taking lessons for three years. He plays the quads in Pep Band. And he's become obsessed with the guitar since Christmas and practices hours at a time, daily.
But he's not going to major in music. He just loves it.
So now he wants to play the Marimba since he thinks that the percussion section is lacking and he figures if he can learn it, he can play it during concert season.
We spoke to his drum instructor about it tonight. He told my son that if he really learns it, he can play in college. It can offset some of his tuition. I guess they offer some scholarship.
We got in the car and I said, "You know... you can march. Learn this, plus the quads, and you can march.... in any of the bands in the schools you're thinking of applying to."
He replied, "Mom... I just don't want to march. I... just don't want to."
I said thoughtfully, 'I get it, but it is a life experience. I just think you shouldn't shut it out..."
And the following response was what shut me up and made me look at him sideways, 'Mom, do you have any idea how much they practice? When are you supposed to have time to study? And then... they TRAVEL. They go to the away games and do you REALLY think people study on that bus? No. Because I've been on band trips and we all TAKE OUR BOOKS and NOBODY studies. NOTHING gets done. So now you're talking about hours of each day where I have to practice and then whole weekends that are shot. When in the world am I supposed to get any real studying done?"
Who is this kid? He got a taste of Honor Roll this quarter... nearly Straight A's and suddenly he's all thinking about his future and stuff.
(In all seriousness, I noticed the changes when he started to REALLY learn how to drive... the attentiveness he had to have on the road, the awareness of his surroundings, a new independence. It has changed him. Didn't see that coming...)