Who brought lizard girl?

This is tomorrow's post, only it's here today. But it's still the post intended for tomorrow. Got it?

Around October 12th of every year the powder keg fairy begins nightly visits to my house. This fairy must be a devout little creature, too; EVERY night I practically drench myself in lotion only to awaken EVERY morning with scales. I'm not kidding. Thank Heavens my husband is gone 5 days a week because this epidermis is rough. I'm just waiting for him to come home and use my leg to sharpen his knives. He has many of them. My husband is a hunter/gatherer.

But I digress. (You can uncrinkle your face... it's my random and decidedly unfunny humor creeping in. I can't help it.)

Ah, who cares? He did vow to love me in sickness and in health, with scaly skin and with smooth skin, right? Yup. I'm for sure that was part of the whole deal.


So today, no tomorrow, no, NO TODAY I am thankful for lotion. The lotion that I use in effort to (albeit in vain) (I almost typed vein) (which might work better) halt my progression towards becoming a reptile.

**I'm not sure if it's the wine or the late hour but in re-reading this mess I can't find one coherent thought. But I'm not rewriting it. Apologies..

Cheers!

He was afraid of this

It was late. The lights in the house were low. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, an almost empty bottle of wine. Sweet, soft music was echoing in the background and there we were. The two of us.

We knew he was coming home soon, any minute now. But it had been so long, and not even his imminent arrival would deter us from enjoying the evening we’d planned.


Just as we nestled by the fire to enjoy our succulent dessert together, we heard it. The garage door was opening; it was him. There was no time to cover our tracks. He had surely already seen the car that didn’t belong in the driveway and any second he would open the door and find us there. Like that.

And he did. He opened the door and with that crooked smile that still knocks me to my knees said "Am I interrupting somthing?" He also took a picture – I suppose for evidence.


Today I am thankful for friends who sacrifice their precious time to come and hang with me when Allen is gone. They make me feel human, they help me remember that there is more to me than being a mom and they provide me with an adult outlet - to share thoughts and hopes and stories with when Allen is miles away. This small group of miracle workers will never know how much their time and presence means to me.

**Please excuse my scariness in this picture. It was after Halloween at work and not a stitch of makeup was in sight.. it's frightening.

CHEERS!

From a song to a state of mind

We are sick all the time. No, seriously – I think I have the sickest family south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and it seems that no amount of Lysol or Clorox wipes or Purel can keep germs from invading our house and bodies and causing us days of misery. I’ve had many breakdowns; deciding that I’m an absolute failure at parenting because I cannot seem to keep my kids (or myself) healthy.

Early last week I started to feel the throat tickle; you know- the warning sign that within a day or two you’ll be laid up in bed with tissues hanging out of your swollen nose and a scarf tied around your vapo-rubbed neck while trying to pour scalding hot tea down your throat because the burn feels so good? Yeah. That one.

As the boys of Cross Canadian Ragweed so profoundly stated; I was sick and tired of being sick and tired so I fought the throat tickle. I fought it with all my might. First, I stole my kids’ orange juice. All of it. Chugged it like a teenager at a keg party. Then I grabbed the bottle of Vitamin C tablets, opened it and took one out. One?! ONE?? I turned that bottle up and let the orangey pills pour into my mouth; I was NOT going to let the throat tickle get me this time. It wouldn’t. It COULDN’T.

It worked. I didn’t get sick. For that reason; today I am thankful for Vitamin C.

Cheers!

A month of thankfulness..

I’m going to put a serious effort towards posting every day this month; each post either revolving around or at least mentioning something I’m thankful for at that moment. We’ll see how long this lasts. I’ve got money on 2 days…. Any other takers?

Today; I am thankful for toilet paper. That’s right –I’m paying homage to the sometimes quilted, always reliable, and positively pillowy soft rolls of necessity that help us all rid ourselves of sh- er, uh; that make our lives easier (and certainly cleaner.)

Cheers!

Fall Days at the Corn Maize

Don’t be jealous of my mad poetry skills.

The opening of the Corn Maize (for all of you spelling and grammar police; I AM spelling that correctly. This particular “maze” is cut from a cornfield; hence the play on words) here in Lubbock marks the beginning of my favorite time of year. The crisp air, the spices, the warm food, the snuggly blankets and nights spent at home with family; it’s the mark of fall.

A couple of weekends ago we gathered the darlings for our annual trip to the maize and per usual, a good time was had by all.

As the “cow train” pulled off I noticed a hint of panic in Allen’s eyes. “You’re afraid Kenly’s going to jump ship and get lost in the cornfield, aren’t you?” I asked. And he didn’t have to answer; because the truth is we both know. If anyone is going to climb out of a moving barrel and take off to hide in the field; it will be that precious child. We’ve got a lot of sleepless nights in our future.

Ashlyn LOVES this trampoline bungee thingamajig; and I cannot blame her. If they made one that would support me and all this backside I carry around I’d be harnessed up and bouncing before you could say milkshake

While Ashlyn was bouncing Allen and Kenly took off to play hide and seek in the trees and Kenly found a field of dirt. Right up her alley.

Sidenote: My delightful husband and I took a giant step on our journey to forever at this little corn maize 7 years ago; as this is where he proposed. A little bit redneck, you say? Indeed it was; but that’s us – sweet with a pinch of country hick.

My love affair with colons. (those of the "semi" variety at least)

I’m a huge fan of the semi-colon. I adore this little mark of punctuation; so much so that I tend to throw one in my writing at times when one is most definitely not needed. I’m beginning to think that my brain has a “haven’t used a semi-colon in a while” trigger that goes off and forces the pressing of that precious key beside the L. Perhaps in an effort to re-train my brain I’ll throw in random slashes for a month.

And now; before I face the wrath of a pregnant woman, here are a couple of pictures from Sara'a fabulous "Baby Q" shower.

The gorgeous Mommy-to-be. I happen to think she has the most adorable baby bump I've ever seen.

Two Lovely Ladies:

Two lovely ladies and a decidedly unfortunate-looking one:

Cheers!

Highway driving or the Fountain of Youth?

My dear friend Sara moved to Austin last year and a few months later got herself knocked up. So when we got word that she was having a baby shower in Roswell (her hometown) Cheyanna and I jumped at the chance to make the short trip and surprise her.

As we set out on the 3 hour drive I noticed that there was something a little different about this road trip than those of my past.


When did we cross the line from “young and carefree” to “old and dependent on medication?”


I was very unsettled at the thought of having left my carefree youth behind and in an attempt to stir some adolescent mischief I announced that I was going to- wait for it - take pictures of all of the passing cars. Yes. That was my idea of gettin’ a little crazy; snapping pictures of oncoming highway traffic with a camera. Cheyanna; on the other hand, has a wilder side and as soon as the words “take pictures of passing cars” left my mouth she was ready to up the ante.

With a glance upward at her sunroof she offered “Why don’t you hang out of the top of the car to take the picture.”

I hesitated.

After all, this was a pretty precarious endeavor. Raising myself outside of a vehicle travelling 70 miles an hour? With a pricey electronic device in hand? What if the force of motion was too strong; plucking the camera out of my grasp and slamming it to its’ death on the pavement? What if, at the sight of a hefty mad-woman acting all “papparrazzi” from the top of a car, the driver of another vehicle crashes in a panic? What if a UFO descended upon us and beamed me into outerspace?

I decided to myself “well, that’s that. It’s simply too hazardous.” Just then I saw the medicine bottles from the corner of my eye; taunting me; reminding me that my formative years were long gone and I was a pair of bifocals away from middle aged. An impish grin slowly crept upon my face and a new resolution was made.

I threw caution to the wind, waited until I saw an 18 wheeler barreling down the pavement, grabbed my camera and hoisted myself out of the car. The wind blew my hair (and apparently my saliva) mercilessly as I snapped the picture; I then turned the camera on myself to document my brazen act of silliness. I collapsed, laughing hysterically into the passenger seat a new woman. A woman who had shown those medications who was boss and defeated old age

This is the victim:

Me at 70 mph = SCARY as hell:


Look closely and you'll see the slobber.. cute huh? (I apologize for the closeness of this picture; it's pretty gruesome..)

The wind had forced tears from my eyes and there wasn’t a tissue in sight; so I did what every resourceful woman would do:

Sara, darling – don’t send yourself into early labor. I will post the pics from the shower in a day or two; promise! Also in an effort to prevent the ever sweet Sara from delivering this child before he's done baking; let me clarify that Sara has been married for a few years - I use the term "knocked up" for dramatic effect only.