Fenway, from Yawkey way. For five extra dollars I parked on Yawkey Way, a stone's throw from the gate. You can almost see my car from here. I'll tell you, that was - quite possibly - the BEST five bucks I've ever spent. Five minutes from the car to our seats. And traffic? ZERO. Also, no sweaty T ride with five thousand other Sox fans trying to get out of Dodge. Lesson: if you're going to pay thirty dollars to park? Pay thirty five. And Jacoby sure does look like he put on a few pounds, doesn't he?

We were there early enough to get in some batting practice. The Angels' right fielder, whose name I won't even bother to look up because I could care less? Ass. He'd field ball after ball and end up with three or four. Then, he'd pretend like he was going to throw one up to the kids in the stands and he'd turn and throw it in. Nice. Still though, the park is beautiful. And my girl?
She was fabulous. FAB. U. LUSS. Really, I know I said I wasn't all that thrilled to be taking her but she surprised me in the best way possible. We bought some chick hats on the way in (baby blue for her, lavender for me) to celebrate the lack of boys. And while she yelled "Right here, Right here!" and held out her glove at BP I scanned the park for our section/seats. Here's the view. The only trouble? Once you sit here there ain't no going back to right field. Well, maybe there's some going back but I'll be pouty and mad the whole way.

Gratuitous Mike Lowell shot for Dawn.

First Fenway Frank. She spent the better part of three innings tracking the cotton candy man and taking inventory of his supply. There were probably five thousand people between him, with his two bags of cotton candy left, and us and she's trying to get his attention - worried that he'll sell out before he gets to us. Which, of course, he did. And when he came back up in the stands with his fresh supply, she nearly jumped out of her seat. And then she got a bag...had three bites...and decided that she didn't really like it. And contrary to all previous girlie ball game behavior? She didn't ask for another thing and then sat back and enjoyed the evening.

Ciao, Manny. Don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya. Not that I didn't love me some Manny Ramierez...but pre-Dodgers trade? Insufferable. Hearing some of the things that his Red Sox teammates were saying though? Interesting. Like the fact that he showed up at ball games late and was benched (even though we might have been told it was a hamstring ) and the fact that he recently moved his locker from the back of the clubhouse (outside the reaches of the press) to the area with the rest of the team - insuring he'd have an audience for his sound bites.

Anyway, we saw his last game in a Sox uniform and like many of his recent appearances...yawn.

The Sox lost...and they lost big. And much like the last time I went, which strangely enough was two years ago to the very day, the score matters so little when you're there, doing the wave and singing some Neil Diamond.

My boss, whose awesomeness knows no bounds, asked me if I would be interested in a couple of Red Sox tickets for tomorrow night's game. For free.

He has a meeting and blah, blah, traffic, blah, blah, stress, blah blah, parking...I wish I knew what else he said because I totally stopped listening when he said FREE Sox Tickets.

I call my husband on the way home and said "hey, I know YOUR boss is in Federal Prison and can't really give you much but MY boss isn't in jail and he totally gave me two tickets to the Sox game"

And he was glad but he's not that glad (comfort of his own home, NESN HD and all of that) and immediately offered up his ticket to my girlie. Who, I'll be honest, I'm kind of not all that excited to take. I foresee many trips to the bathroom and lengthy explanations about the number of visits to the concession stand that my wallet can handle.

But, maybe she'll surprise me - we shall see. She loves hockey games, cheers like a crazy girl and sings all the songs. Baseball's a little slower, okay - A LOT slower but I'm thinking some Fenway magic might just rub off on her.

So, my sister-in-law's new digs - it's a restaurant that she helped launch. She's a chef and worked her mojo to get things off on the right foot.

Did we go? No.

Why? Long story and it involves lots of favoritism and unhealthy thoughts about how my husband just doesn't rank well in his family's dysfunctional tree - which, on the whole, is actually a good thing, even though it does sting.

We stayed home and had breakfast for dinner, which the kids love and I? Convinced myself that french toast and bacon was every bit as good as mahi-mahi with grilled pineapple and coconut rum sauce.

It almost worked.

Which, I just hit publish and realized that I sound like there's some regret there. There isn't. Am I a mite bitter about how the whole pre-dinner thing went down? Yes, especially in light of how this has been going on for years.

But do I really wish I had been out to dinner with the in-laws instead of serving up an impromptu breakfast in my own kitchen with my three favorite people? Not really.

Driving Me Bananas

Tone Deaf OfficeMate Singing Along to the Easy Listening Station at Work - check

Vacation Bible School Brainwash of Youngest Child- check

Sandwich Crumbs on the Just Cleaned Kitchen Counter - check

Tornado Warnings - check



On the bright side the family and I get a complimentary dinner tonight at my SIL's new digs - hopefully I'll remember the camera.

Jon & Kate + 8? Love it or hate it?

A few months ago, I turned it on...and quickly turned it off. I have trouble watching people show off their worst side. And Kate's worst side? Yowza. I was fairly certain Jon's backbone was no longer in place.

I've seen a few episodes since then, some more painful to watch than others. And really, with cameras on you all the time - how could they NOT catch a sarcastic remark or a frustrated moment? Who am I to judge? I mean between honest to god frustration and editing I can't imagine how a t.v. show about my own life would play out.

Still though I saw some links the other day, that there was some behind the scenes controversy going on and blah, blah, blah. I check out the link and find that there will probably not be any happy, extended family cookouts in their near future.

So apparently, I have trouble watching someone make an ass of themselves on t.v. but if they choose to air their dirty laundry on the internet? I have no trouble at all reading about it.

The blog is written by the sister of Jon & Kate's sister-in-law and oftentimes babysitter, Jodi. Obviously, you can't believe everything you read or, apparently, see but again - Yowza.

So, yeah, the seas were a little rough on Sunday. And it's a good time, watching adult after adult get mowed down by waves as they crash onto the shore. I place the blame squarely on the shoulders of the waves - because it couldn't have anything to do with the beverage consumption. Could it?Funny how keeping your arms out of the water seems to make you think that 64 degree oceans are actually not all that cold. Putting your arms in, it freezes you dead, right on the spot.

The only time my husband has had four bathing suit clad girls hanging off of his arms. Even if you combined all of their ages (27) they'd still be too young for him.

The only thing about spending all day Sunday at the beach? By Monday night you're already wishing it were Friday.

So I've not been around much. Scratch that, I've been around - READING just not posting. I mean, really, would you rather read half hearted drivel, which is all my empty little head can produce these days or whole hearted drivel? Drivel that takes weeks to make it from my brain to the keyboard?

And yes, there is a difference and my apologies but you won't be reading it here tonight.

I've just been sort of hanging out. Enjoying summer. There's a lot of swimming and floating around the pond this summer. My girl learned to dive, um, she was in a play at camp and she bought herself a keyboard. The boy's had some sleepovers, gone to a PawSox game and is a mix of insufferable pre-teen and totally goofy, fun, snuggly kid. We had our first real get-together of the summer over here last weekend with some friends we haven't seen in far too long. Took the kids to see my friend's husband's band play an outdoor concert the other night. Good stuff.

Tomorrow is supposed to be a sizzlah, as we say up here, or at least as the weathermen say - I go more for 'wicked hot'. Fairly Odd Mother has piqued my interest with this grape vodka + lemonade beverage she mentioned so I'm thinking that might make it on the agenda. And fresh corn on the cob. And cucumbers with olive oil & rice vinegar.

Sunday, we're off to Humarock for the day - returning in time for a swim in the lake, pajamas and then I've got a date with my favorite girl to watch that new High School Musical show.

That's about it. Mundane and yet, why would I want it any other way?

In which I post about work, trying not to reveal too much - which probably makes it kind of 'who caresish'

Ah, Monday.

1. I've been the only official employee in my office for the past four to five months. There are voluteers who come in sporadically (read: one volunteer comes in, while I'm here, twice a week) otherwise, the work load is mine. Mostly, it's okay - I'm not qualified to fill the shoes of the girl who left so I'm not doing the technical, field work stuff - it's just that being the only one here? Sometimes, it grates....

2. One of the newer volunteers who visits the office even less frequently, well he visited a site in town - actually, he was on the neighboring property - and told us he spied a major violation on the site and we issued a cease and desist (stop work order) - delivered by the police department. All official like.

3. Same volunteer visited the site the next day and found that, whoops - he was mistaken - that the nice folks hadn't done any new work and everything appears to be just ship-shape.

4. Person on the receiving end of the complaint is nutty, called the office - voice quavering and holding back tears. Her husband is also nutty, having been arrested for carrying a concealed weapon into a police station sometime last year.

Seems like every time I sit down to post I get a severe case of ADD and find exactly forty gagillion other things that need doing.

That and I can't think of a single thing to say.

Monday was on the stinky side. There were enough things that I was able to provide my friend with a numbered list. (1. Pissed off wasp that I hit, but didn't kill, in my office...etc.) Tuesday, of course, was better.

This past weekend, damned fine. We set up the Taj Majal in the yard and the girlie and I camped out while the boys wasted an hour and a half watching 10,000 BC. We drank our hot chocolate outside the next morning and by seven thirty a.m. we were swimming and washing our hair with biodegradable shampoo in the lake.

Dough boys were cooked over the fire, the most simple recipe but seriously? It kicks the ass of the inferior s'more. Which, really isn't even a challenge because s'mores? Suck.


The Way Better than S'mores Campfire Snack

refrigerated crescent rolls
melted butter
cinnamon & sugar mix

Unroll the dough, tear off a triangle and then tear that in half. You can cook a whole one but there's only eight in a can and eight divided by four people only equals two each, which isn't enough for my kids. Or me. Anyway, wrap them around the stick, kind of in a spiral, and toast over the fire. They should be golden brown and will slide right off the stick when they're cooked through. Dip them in the melted butter and then in the cinnamon/sugar. Heaven.

We spent Sunday floating in the pond and cooking out and making smoothies.

A mighty fine weekend, if I do say so myself.

Hey, maybe I'll update those amazon links in my sidebar...I mean, it's only been six months or so.

That stupid orange raccoon? Prophetically named Soon 2B Forgotten? At least I know just how much follow-through I lack. I lasted precisely one and one half days on that stupid race. Still don't even know how it logged miles, found no websites worth reading and generally just hated the whole thing. Still, though...cute raccoon.

Love it or Hate it?

Loving:
Tootsie Pops
Bear Grylls
Mt. Everest/Arctic books
Flannel Sheets
Flip Flops that flip flop quietly
Blueberries by the handful
Almost burnt marshmallows


Hating:
The term 'barista'. Try coffee pourer.
Comcast - why so many fewer channels than FiOS? Why?
S'mores
Thinking I'm going to trip over the dog & find it's just my son's black shirt thrown onto the floor

So the printer works as a card reader...who knew?

This was our vacation destination last week, my parent's cabin in the middle of our little slice of the Maine woods. Our 31 acres is surrounded by thousands of uninhabited acres of more, um, woods. Uninhabited by people, I should say, there's plenty of wildlife. There is a neighbor, about a mile before you get to our land and after us? No one. And no, that's not plywood in that upper window, it's a giant shade because the sun shines in there and it's so bright at five a.m. that you will want to poke your eyes out. And you'll want to cover your ears because the kids think it's high noon.

The kids are actually panning for gold, which...good luck. What they did find is feldspar, tourmaline, rose quartz and some other ?-ite of which I cannot remember the name, except that it's purple. And purty.


The lean-to. Totally constructed by the kids. Well, mostly the boy - the girl was mainly the stick carrier. They built the frame and then the boy lashed it with strips of bark he had whittled himself. Then they found the Y branches for supports...and covered the whole thing with leafy branches. It held up all week, even through the downpours...he is insanely proud of this.



On the third day we ended up driving the thirty five minutes to the localest mall and movie theater. My girl convinced the boy that he needed a boat ride. They both convinced me that they needed new books (the girl) and new sneakers (the boy). I convinced both of them that the rain pouring down on the roof of the mall meant we should see a movie and it should NOT be Kung Fu Panda but instead, Prince Caspian.

When we left the movie theater he said "The sun! The sun's finally out! Now if it could just STAY sunny for a few more hours." Which it did. He forgot to wish for the rain to stop.
One of the highlights of a trip to Maine? Weaponry. Slingshots, BB Guns, Soft Air Rifles and Cap Guns. Also, my stepfather made roll-cap firecrackers with a needle and thread, some caps and some electrical tape which was lesson enough until my mom reminded him of the flaming match shooter you can make with a jimmied clothes pin. Worthwhile skills for any eleven year old boy to know.

Good Monday Morning

We've returned to the land of cell phones, internet, cable and running water.

And with the exception of that last one, I could honestly say that I could easily spend the summer up there. Actually, even without the running water I could spend the summer there.

I'd show you pictures but the USB cable has disappeared in my absence. What I wish had disappeared in my absence? The three baskets of folded laundry I left for my husband to put away. Maybe I can work some magic with the memory card and the reader on the printer, of course that still won't get my husband on the laundry bandwagon...

Basically, we spent a LOT of time this past week dodging thunderstorms and rain. We rockhounded, we started a puzzle and upon seeing that it was impossible to finish (f'ing roof) - we left it for my mom, we read and read and read. We saw some wild turkeys, saved a stranded turtle and swatted many a mosquito. I learned how to start the generator so that the marine batteries would charge and I would be able to watch the big Celtics/Lakers game - the biggest of games on the littlest of televisions - it's a camper tv, nine inches at best. Still though, what a drubbing of the Lakers - shooting threes and fouling with two minutes left of the game - LOVE it!

We also, usually, have cell phone coverage. Unless, say, a huge thunderstorm moves through and lightening strikes the tower that sits at the top of a local mountain. Then you're totally out of luck. And then, when you drive twenty five minutes to get a signal? Fifteen missed calls from a worried husband. He should've been putting laundry away instead of spending so much time on the telephone, at least that's what I told him...

A quick post, as I'm seeing flashes of lightening from my window...

The childrens are out of school and we're heading to Maine for a few days. Like four daysish. The weather is supposed to be thoroughly mediocre but I've packed some games, books and puzzles to keep us busy. And if we get a little stir crazy the movie theater is a short forty minute drive away. Well, maybe thirty five.

The boy has some grand plans to start a lean-to, the girl has three cap guns and 750 caps packed and I am thinking it will be nice to just 'be' for a few days.

Either that or I'll be tearing my hair out while I listen to the two of them bicker non-stop for four days.

Wish me luck...

Totally on the Bandwagon.

First off, thank you guys for all of your comments. It's a tough adjustment to make. We got Baxter two days after we moved into our house and I found out I was pregnant with my son the same week. There's a lot of memories tied in with him. A lot of old habits to slowly forget. I appreciate the thoughts, thank you.

I took down his picture, replacing it with something that won't make me sigh and walk away from the computer...I needed to post too, move that last one down the page a bit so it's not staring me in the face...



I'll admit it. Between the late 1980's and about eight weeks ago...I wasn't much for watching the Celtics. I'd catch their highlights on the news (if you can call them "high"lights) but I hadn't seen a full game in years.

My mom was a big basketball fan, loving the Celtics from way back. I used to watch alot in the days of Bird and Parrish, Johnson and Ainge. Y'know back when they were world champions and the rivalry between the Celts and the Lakers was red hot.

Well, it's a slippery slope my friends.

It all began with Atlanta. Sure the Celtics could beat them. And they did, stringing my nerves out to the very last game.

And Cleveland? King James? Who? Actually, I sort of like LeBron but another seven games and down to the wire again.

Detroit? Not so much with the liking. The guy with the face mask and whoever else? Peh.

And now we're in Los Angeles and we're up three games to one. I've got no love for Kobe, none. Obviously, though if you believe what the national media have to say - I'm the only person alive who feels this way. Damn, they fawn all over this guy. All that malarkey about him "trusting his teammates" and "he won't let the Lakers lose"? Puh-leeze. He may be everyone's Prince Charming but the Celtics are the Cinderella Story this year.

Last night's come back? Phenomenal. A lesson in perserverance. Paul Pierce hugging Ray Allen - And anyone else who got within reach of those gigantically long arms of his? And Ray Allen? Puts on some magic sleeve and ends that damned shooting slump of his. PJ Brown - one of the oldest players in the NBA and he's out there and he's rebounding like a crazy fella. Eddie House - the short guy with the great 3 point shot. Rondo, Perkins & Powe - what a success story this kid is - his mom would have been proud. Posey and oh yeah, Garnett. Like I could forget Kevin - his mug is all over the place these days.

They've got a few days off before they go after the last win of the series. And it's about killing me to have to wait. All I have to say is....it's good to be loving the sports here in Boston right about now.

He was a good ole dog.

I've been away for a few days....well, not away from home or work or the computer even. But posting wise? I've got excuses-a-plenty. Too hot (pre A/C), too cold (post A/C installation), working (when has that stopped me?), too lazy, too busy. And excuses they may be but honestly, they've all been true at one time or another this past week.

Yesterday's reason? Emotionally exhausted.

The dog. My dog. Baxter.

Back in March he was given one to four months to live, the tumor inoperable. A sad day, to be sure but after the first week or so, I just kept steadfastly giving him his medication and quietly monitoring him - not totally pretending nothing was wrong but seeing as how the dog was just REALLY hungry and REALLY thirsty - not too worried either.

But Monday, he was panting and didn't really drink his usual five bowls of water that night. And Tuesday? He didn't get up when I came home from work. He could and did get up a few minutes later but I noticed his absence at the door. And Tuesday night? The benadryl apparently stopped working and his mast cell tumor, which releases histamines and itches like crazy? Well it itched like crazy and he just about licked it open.

Wednesday morning, his back leg was giving out on him as soon as he stepped on the kitchen floor. He could walk but if he tried to turn or adjust his position? It would give way. And he couldn't sit (the tumor was on his rear).

The call to the vet was the single hardest thing I've had to do in a long while.

We made an appointment for later in the day, before the kids came home from school. I went to work and spent three hours distractedly flitting from task to task. My husband was supposed to meet me at one thirty. I came home at noon, to spend some time.

I cooked his favorite meal...four hardboiled eggs. As a bonus I covered the eggs with a ton of cheese, another favorite. I took him down to the lake for a swim. Of course on the walk down the hill? He's fine and I'm all thinking I could maybe postpone the whole thing, second guessing myself to the end. He slipped on the stairs into the lake though and I started to cry. Started to cry? Not really, more like I cried again.

We took him to the vet and he died quietly, with his head in my lap, he was still wet from the swim.

Remember when he ate the whole bag of Tastefully Simple stuff?

Or got hit by a car at the veterinarian's?

It will be a long time until I'm done missing him.

Ah, Monday. Two weeks of school remain and then we’re in for a whopping eleven week summer vacation.

Hold me.

Okay, well don’t because I’d be all stiff and awkward. But come on over, have a drink with me and we’ll watch the kids swim and laugh while we commiserate a bit, would you?

Yesterday I found out that my boy? My super-cute little hockey playing straight A student. Apparently, he’s found himself to be the target of a schoolyard bully.

Of course, naturally he’s not the type of bully that all of the other kids rally against, making him powerless. This one is the head of the popular, football playing clique. (Already with this football/jock shit, it’s fifth grade for crying out loud.) The one that no one dares to speak against, lest they be blacklisted too.

He’s from one of those families. Well known in town because the mom is involved in everything, the family owns a local business, and they’re super into the sports, the whole family. Mostly no one ever says a word against them and maybe they’re not even a bad sort, I don’t run in those circles so I only know what I hear from others.

I do know, however, that he’s making my boy pretty damn miserable. There’s a big group of boys in their class. They all hung out together for most of this year, my boy and a few others being a bit on the outside of it all - which I felt was fine, these aren’t the type of kids that I really want my son hanging with anyway…in class, forced comradeship? Okay. Sleeping over and hanging out on a rainy Saturday? Nah.

Well, this kid has decided to ostracize my boy from the group. Now, I’m sure all the other ‘on the fringe’ kids are thanking god that he didn’t choose them to pick on but that’s not making things too much easier for us.

And today, all of my son’s friend’s classes are fieldtripping – leaving my boy on his own at recess and lunch. He was kind of freaked out about what he was supposed to do all by himself and worried about not being able to fall under this kid’s radar the entire time. So I told him I’d pick him up early.

Mistake? I don’t freaking know. I’d like to think it’s not, there’s ten days of school left, a long summer break, where hopefully this kid will outgrow his meatheaded behavior. (“Only a 66.6 % chance we’ll be in the same group next year” is what my son said to me last night at bedtime).

We talked about confronting him, different things he could say – he wasn’t really having any of it. He was worried that if he says something and tries to walk away that this kid will follow him. My husband told him to stand his ground, then. Which made me cringe a little bit, even though I tend to agree. Lord knows my son can hold his own, just ask my nephew.

If it were September, the beginning of the school year, I wouldn’t have even entertained this half day thing. The whole bully thing would have to be dealt with. But now, with summer so close…I feel like, maybe it would be best just to let it all play out quietly until the end of the year. I know that’s what my son wants, he told me that he doesn’t want me talking to his teacher and that he can handle it, which of course, remains to be seen.

What do you think?

I wish I could say I had a relaxing and wonderful weekend at home. I could, I suppose, but it would be a complete and total lie and then how would you all ever trust me again?

Having a sore throat from Friday night right up until Monday evening? Way to kill the weekend plans. And not sleeping because everytime you drift off your throat kind of relaxes and you feel like your choking to death on goop? Not at all relaxing. Or wonderful.

But I'm on the road to recovery...with the help of internet researched type of sore throat cure:

warm water, honey & cayenne pepper. Gargle and then gargle some more. Strangely, it didn't even taste that bad. More imporantly, it worked.

Well, thank you guys for all of the birthday wishes...really - y'all are the best.

The. best.

This morning I was busy spending gift cards (Wii Fit!) and my children's meager inheiritance (New patio umbrella! Milk! Gas!).

I thought about taking the kiddos camping this weekend but when you wait until the Friday before Memorial Day weekend to check on available campsites? You'll be camping on a dirt patch next to the dump station.

Plus I would have made a trip there this morning (to pick a site), come home, gone back this evening to set up a tent and possibly sleep there - only to come home tomorrow because of a birthday party obligation - and then back on Saturday night. And my husband? Working all day on Saturday and fishing all day on Sunday - so I would've been flying solo. Not usually a big deal but I just didn't feeeel like getting it all together. Plus all the gas.

I'd rather mulch.

Thurty sevin

Okay, I've just spent part of my birthday in my office crying.

And it's not because I didn't get a Wii Fit. It was Tito, he put me over the edge.

Go here and read this. And watch the video.

You don't have to love baseball to appreciate it.



Birthday plans? Work all day, help the kids with homework, make the beds, soak my daughter's very infected toenail and massage the goo out of it, dinner (which I am totally NOT cooking) and back to work for a meeting. Jealous?

0 - The number of hits given up by Jon Lester last night.

5.4 - The number of gallons twenty dollars will get you around here.

17 - The number of minutes left in my work day.

7 - The number of days the customer service people asked me to wait before calling the cable company AGAIN about our bill.

6 - The possible number of A's on my son's progress report.

6 - The number of A's on his progress report.

7 -Times I've asked for a DVR for my birthday.

426 - Times I've asked for a screen door in the past sixish years.

37 - Age I'll be on my birthday.

1 - Number of Days until my birthday!

The Man Meme

Okay, I saw this first at blackbird's and then over at jen's....

A poll, from Esquire magazine.

Since he just had his fortieth birthday I figured I'd give it a go.


1. Give advice that matters in one sentence. — Depends on the subject matter - ask him about pipe layout or construction? yes. Girl drama advice for my daughter when she comes home crying? A bit more wordy.

2. Tell if someone is lying. — Yes, and I'm the one usually giving people the benefit of the doubt...

3. Take a photo. — He can, but not well.

4. Score a baseball game. — Not sure...he watches enough of it so he SHOULD be able to...

5. Name a book that matters. — No.

6. Know at least one musical group as well as is possible. — Music? Not his thing.

7. Cook meat somewhere other than the grill. — Absolutely, I'm more of the griller, anyway.

8. Not monopolize the conversation. — He doesn't have a chance.

9. Write a letter. — Can he write a letter? Yes. Would he? Probably not.

10. Buy a suit. — Again, he can and would if he had to. Last suit he bought? 1996.

11. Swim three different strokes. — No, but he can swim across the lake...

12. Show respect without being a suck-up. — For sure. A suck-up is one thing my husband is not.

13. Throw a punch. — No doubt.

14. Chop down a tree. — Yes, it's part of the job description when you own 31 acres of woods in Maine and use a woodstove to heat your home. Plus it might be a part of his actual job description...

15. Calculate square footage. — Absolutely.

16. Tie a bow tie. — Not correctly.

17. Make one drink, in large batches, very well. — No, actually, he can't.

18. Speak a foreign language. — Nope.

19. Approach a woman out of his league. — Not sure when this would come in handy but he's fairly comfortable around anyone.

20. Sew a button. — I’ll ask him -He could, but he wouldn't be happy.

21. Argue with a European without getting xenophobic or insulting soccer. — Xenophobic? Probably not. Insulting soccer? Quite possibly.

22. Give a woman an orgasm so that he doesn’t have to ask after it. — *grin*

23. Be loyal. — Yes.

24. Know his poison, without standing there, pondering like a dope. — Yes, sadly I can't say the same for myself.

25. Drive an eight penny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it. — Um, yes.

26. Cast a fishing rod without shrieking or sighing or otherwise admitting defeat. — Yes, and he catches dinner almost weekly in the summer. Fresh striped bass is good for the soul.

27. Play gin with an old guy. — Okay, I'll say that his dad would be considered an old guy...so, yes.

29. Understand quantum physics well enough that he can accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped. — No, he could care less, I'm sure.

30. Feign interest. — See #29...if someone were explaining he'd try not to be rude. If it were me talking about dinner? Different story.

31. Make a bed. — He can and does. Although, not the way I'd like it.

32. Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the terms nutty, fruity, oaky, finish, or kick.
Sure...it'd go like this: *wrinkled nose* "yuck".

33. Hit a jump shot in pool. — No, but he's better at pool than I expect him to be.

34. Dress a wound. — He handled most of the recent knee injury himself (doctor's visits, dressing changes, etc) and handled it well.

35. Jump-start a car. Change a flat tire. Change the oil. — All three, without a problem.

36. Make three different bets at a craps table. — No, he's never learned how to play.

37. Shuffle a deck of cards. — Yep.

38. Tell a joke. — He's not much of a joke teller.

39. Know when to split his cards in blackjack. — He's not here to ask so I'll go with a big maybe.

40. Speak to an eight-year-old so he will hear. — Yes, and sometimes loud enough for EVERYONE to hear.

41. Speak to a waiter so he will hear. — I'm assuming these aren't questions about his voice decibel level - but yes, he can order all by himself.

43. Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help.
Of course.

44. Ask for help.– He can. But he hates to.

45. Break another man’s grip on his wrist. — I would assume so.

46. Tell a woman’s dress size. — No.

47. Recite one poem from memory. — No.

48. Remove a stain. — I don't believe he's ever tried.

49. Say no. — With ease. Unless it's my 87 year old neighbor asking....

50. Fry an egg sunny-side up. — Yep, good egg cooker.

51. Build a campfire. — In the rain, even.

52. Step into a job no one wants to do. — Yes.

53. Sometimes, kick some ass. — Not lately, but he could. And would.

54. Break up a fight. — He could and might, depending on the circumstances.

55. Point to the north at any time. — Hmmm, I'll have to ask.

56. Create a play-list in which ten seemingly random songs provide a secret message to one person. — Not in his life. He might even ask "what's a playlist?"

57. Explain what a light-year is. — Maybe a half-baked explanation...maybe.

58. Avoid boredom. — Rarely is this guy bored.

59. Write a thank-you note. — have yet to see it happen.

60. Be brand loyal to at least one product. — yes, toothpaste.

61. Cook bacon. — yes and thank god because I hate to.

62. Hold a baby. — He sure can.

63. Deliver a eulogy. — I don't think he could make it through.

64. Know that Christopher Columbus was a son of a bitch. — I'm not going out on a limb to say that he's got no idea...

65-67. Throw a baseball over-hand with some snap. Throw a football with a tight spiral. Shoot a 12-foot jump shot reliably. — yes and yes. the jump shot? not so much.

68. Find his way out of the woods if lost. — Yes.

69. Tie a knot. — I'm sure he can, but not 176 different variations...

70. Shake hands. — He does.

71. Iron a shirt. — yes, not the best job but hey - he irons.

72. Stock an emergency bag for the car. — Nope, that's my gig.

73. Caress a woman’s neck. — He can.

74. Know some birds. — There are people who don't know birds? Like Robins and Cardinals?

75. Negotiate a better price. — I'd say not really, it's something he hates doing.

Does he come off like a knuckle-dragger, with all this no reading, sports watching, fish catching, wine-hating type of stuff? Well, watch what you say...he throws a mean left hook.

---

Saving Money

1. Negotiate the child care price.

Okay, so Blackbird's guess of twenty dollars a day? Right on the money, so to speak. A leeeetle bit cheaper than staying at the camp and apparently, she was unsure what to ask for and is willing to accept less.

I guess it wouldn't frost my ass so much but there's some history there - between my husband and his brother, most of it not all that great - and I'm totally letting that factor into my feelings about this. Maybe that's not too smart but it certainly makes giving them even one red cent a little bit painful. On the other hand, swallowing your pride so you can afford gas or some other luxury, like food? Maybe.

2. Steal your produce

Thursday, I went grocery shopping at a new "Super" version of a store I rarely visit. Well, they have these little gizmos...you put your card number in, grab a gizmo and scan your groceries as you put them in your cart. It tracks how much you're spending (love!) and you can remove items easily...all good.

When you check out, apparently you're supposed to have been bagging your items as you shop (who knew?). I didn't. I gave the cashier my scanner and asked how they keep track of what people are scanning vs. what people are just putting in their carts. She was sixteen, uninterested - and just shrugged. At this point I had no recollection of not scanning certain weighable items and I was a bit overwhelmed (shopping directly from recipes instead of lists does that to me plus this new gizmo...I was scatterbrained by checkout time).

She scans my gizmo, gives me a total, I write the check and start bagging my items. She checks nothing, rings nothing in...it's all done with my scanner/gizmo. It doesn't dawn on me until I'm driving home, as I'm rehashing the wonder of the gizmo - that I hadn't bothered to scan any of the bag-and-weigh-it-yourself produce. Apples, bananas, peppers, onions, broccoli, asparagus...

There was some complicated chart and scales system but at the time I figured they'd handle that during checkout. Then when I was checking out...it never even occurred to me.

So, free produce.

And no. I'm NOT going back.

3. Spend a beautiful Sunday working in the yard and not at any building or garden supply stores.

Wants: A screen door, a brick patio, a small wooden deck for the front entrance, a new fence for the front, handmade shutters, mulch, annuals ...

See? Saving money.

A question for y'all

Child Care.

A family member may be picking up my two kids at a local campish type place three days a week this summer (for eight weeks). It's about five miles away.

She'll be there around noon, bring them back to her house (around 12:30 by the time they get their stuff together and leave the place) and I will be there to pick them up by 1:30ish p.m. (1:15 one day and 1:45 two days).

I plan on packing their lunches to eat at her house.

So 1 - 1 1/2 hours, three days per week. Also, my kids (my daughter for sure) will be playing with her two year old and she suggested this arrangement to me with the statement that it would be good for her boy to see my kids this summer as he really loves them and it gives her a little break.

What do you think would be a fair price? I had an amount in mind and last night, when she told me what she'd like to be paid I almost keeled over.

Help!

Identity Theft was so last week.

Also so last week? My husband and girlie's weekend trip to Maine. My parents need some one to build a roof over their porch and the obvious choice? Their son-in-law. Now, my guy has just gone back to work and he's got a few side jobs plus roofing his parent's house all hanging over his head...no big deal. But my parent's called and asked and lo, the guilt. They said they'd feed him, provide beer and he could ride up with them. None of which are required or all that big of a deal.

Unless you're my husband. Who quite honestly, will work long hard hours to get the job done and not expect a whole lot in return. Even if he is out of state for an entire weekend, postponing jobs that might actually help us pay a bill or two.

But if you promise food, beer and such. Please, for the love of god, feed the man. Three pan fried hot dogs (no buns!) and a can of beans for lunch? And three homemade tacos for dinner, in a sauce that is more sloppy joe than taco? And beer? He was hoping for a few around the fire...he got one. No fire. And breakfast on Sunday? My parents stopped at McDonalds.

Plus my able bodied stepfather stood underneath him and watched him work. And suggested things. Not good.

But...on the plus side, the obligatory trip to Maine is complete, I got to spend a whole weekend with my favorite eleven year old, Mother's Day was a non-event (bonus t.v. watching: Survivor Finale - Boo! Parvarti! - I wanted Cirie), town meeting passed and I'm still employed (budgets are tiiiiight this year), I got the summer work schedule I want and need to make working financially feasible.

Things that are so this week?

My husband's fortieth birthday. Generally, I make whatever the birthday person wants for dinner. So I asked him if he wanted a treat....I could STEAM the hotdogs. Or grill them, even.

He threw a pillow at me.

It Takes a Thief

Dear Jackass,

I'm not sure if Radio Shack was your store of choice or maybe their store credit applications are a little lax, but congratulations on getting that little piece of plastic. The fact that it's in my husband's name...insignificant detail, right?

The fifteen hundred dollars you spent, I hope you're enjoying it. It's so much easier to spend someone else's money isn't it? I do it all the time, whenever I dream about winning the lottery. I don't have the gall to do the whole 'idenity theft' thing, I'm spineless like that.

Did you pick up a few iPods? I wish you had gotten me a Classic because the 5th generation iPod video I bought a few years ago? Doesn't show rental movies...

How about a nice little LCD television? We bought one, back in December...paid for it ourselves and everything. Foolish of us, wasn't it?

I know the Shack is big into the remote control car/gizmo things...maybe you picked up a hundred or so of those.

So many options, the mind boggles.

Were you all cool and calm when you were filling out the application with my husband's name? Or did your hands sweat a bit as you waited for it to process? Did you look around for cameras and pull your baseball hat a little lower on your head? Or maybe you work there? And didn't have to bother trying to pull one over on the employees. The possibilities are endless.

I appreciate you're doing this, because I really don't have anything to fill my spare moments and there's nothing I love more than spending my spare time on the phone with credit card companies. Maybe you could somehow screw with our Comcast account too because as far as customer service goes? They're almost the worst (I'm looking at you, Verizon).

So, enjoy these last few days of leisure because they're going to start looking for you the minute my husband gets home and makes a few phone calls. Maybe you can listen to the police calls on your new scanner?

Hugs,

Jenny

I'm going on record here as saying that Cablela's? Totally overrated. And totally overpriced. The tent was back-ordered online but in stock at their closest store (a short two hour drive) so we packed up the car and went, gas prices be damned.

It's one of those ginormous megastores that companies are so fond of building these days - as if a taxidermied zebra and a fish tank full of sluggish salmon has any bearing at all on my need to purchase waterproof matches and a nice cast iron dutch oven.

We did get our portable summer home tent though - and it was priced fairly reasonably. It's big, REALLY big. So big, in fact, that my husband, who okayed the purchase, is now not wanting to open the box. Maybe he think's it'll explode like those snake in can/peanut brittle jars...

The boy and I also picked up a little something for ourselves.

Slingshots. With paintball ammunition.

Which, apparently, the paintballs are okay but the slingshots? Illegal in Massachusetts. As opposed to CO2 powered air/paintball rifles and air powered BB guns - which are are perfectly fine and owned by many of the boys around here.

Sorry, scofflaw here. We're totally using them today after school. I'm planning on sneaking around to shoot at police cruisers and senior citizens. Oh wait, that's right...I'm not. We've got paper targets and tin cans, though, and eye protectors too. Because while I may be a scofflaw, I don't want to be a BLIND scofflaw.

I was totally on the fence about buying them, not because I thought they were illegal (I didn't know), but because I thought it was something my son could build himself with a strong branch and some surgical tubing. I didn't want to circumvent the DIY process, y'know, but after I put one in our cart, for myself, he totally wasn't sold on the idea. It wasn't until we were about to leave the store that he took a good long look at the package and the paintballs and decided that it was something he couldn't live without.

If you see a paint splattered squirrel run by...we might not be far behind.

We've needed a new tent for a few years now, well - since this camping trip, when I spent half the night rolling up towels to place at the bottom of all the seams as water was just, literally, running in. It sounded like it was raining pretty hard, the amount of water coming in the tent led me to believe it was raining really hard



(That's a glowstick up there, hanging from the top of the tent)

See? Doesn't it SOUND like it's raining hard?

But when I went outside the next morning? Everything was just a little wet. And underneath the picnic table and my car? Totally dry. Clearly it wasn't the monsoon I thought it was.

Last year, while in New Hampshire, it was a monsoon. A wind, rain, thunder and lightening extravaganza. That lasted about a half hour and proceeded to blow trees down all over the campground, onto trailers (a tree on our site fell - but AWAY from our tent) and to knock the electricity out to the entire side of town. It blew our tent right off it's stakes. Plus it leaked terribly.


This year, in trying to come up with something, to celebrate the end of the school year and a year of straight A's for the boy and excellent first grade grades for the girl - I was planning a little trip. Very little, like overnight.

It had to be inexpensive, though, what with the work situation. And close, what with the dog situation.

My husband is easy, he's not a fan of the city OR the beach. He'd go, but he'd rather not. Both are close by but the city? Not inexpensive. And the beach? I can't get behind the idea of staying in a hotel for a night to spend the day at the beach. Especially with someone who's ready to leave the beach ten minutes after arriving.

So last night I ended up at the Cabela's site. And I saw this:

We discussed. I'm ordering today. Our vacation home, she is portable.

In which I'm bitter

Dear Commonwealth Healthcare Connector,

I've been seeing your commercials for a year or so now. The one where the balding guy with the broken arm talks to me about the importance of insurance for my family? Just wanted to let your ad agency know that the casting kind of sucked because he looks just like a loser who's forty and out of work and is in his parent's kitchen, not his own. His flannel shirt doesn't help matters. I realize the whole forty and out of work/living with the folks thing is part of your target demographic but it only serves to cement just how pissed off I am that my husband is working for someone right now (50+ hours a week) and I have TWO part time jobs and we're still in the same boat as this schlub.

However, thanks to the downturn in commercial development and the law requiring all Massachusetts residents to have health insurance - no matter what the cost - I found myself in need of your services. Speaking of this law, how much did the insurance agencies have to pay to the "re-election committees" of certain politicians to get this beauty passed?

Your vague, user un-friendly website has cemented my need for insurance of some sort because my blood pressure, while trying to find if our doctor accepts the plans you offer? Through the roof. And no, the pediatrician has apparently opted out of these plans. Great.

Just so you are aware.... a link to an Excel spreadsheet that does not clearly identify the numbers being spread? Not helpful. Especially because this was the link that was supposed to break down the monthly payments. So thanks for that.

Oh, to be sure there are some easier options. For instance, instead of wading through the quagmire - I could just get sick and tired of it all and opt for the full price coverage. Or maybe the "bronze plan" that has a two thousand dollar deductable and is just slightly less than my mortgage payment. Sadly, we cannot afford to be so flippant and wading through the quagmire is a necessity.

Also, the whole 'no tax refund' thing? Kind of sucks, guys.

Sincerely,

Jenny

So, to those of you thinking that socialized medicine is a good thing? Just want to let you know that mandatory insurance...is not.

But on the upside, as this sat in drafts, my husband got called back to work at his 'regular job'. For how long we don't know but we've dodged this bullet for now.

And so, with it being Monday I'll have you all know that I survived not one but THREE sleepovers this past week.

Can I say here, without sounding too weird, that eleven year old boys are kind of awesome? (When they aren't acting like their parents owe them uber-expensive birthday presents)

They play and they laugh themselves silly and shout out random phrases that are mildly annoying - until you hear the laughter. They make fart noises late into the night, giggling themselves right off the bed.

Also, the amount of gatorade they consume? It boggles the mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I've been watching Survivor and um, just wanted to let you all know that I'm not at all happy with the the all girl alliance thing they've got going. Ugh, I can't imagine anything worse than being stuck in that type of situation with bitchy girls who think they're the shit. Poor James.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

What I haven't been watching, at least since last week? The Red Sox. Seems like I haven't missed too much.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It kind of irks me when a mom, who lets her son watch any and ALL war movies - from Braveheart to Saving Private Ryan - kind of gives me the "ohmygosh NO" when I ask if it's okay for him to play Ghost Squad with three other boys on the Wii.
Okay then.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tonight is the boy's last hockey practice until August. The girl? She starts skating on Saturday. No rest for the wicked.

Happy Birthday? Not really.

A few nights before his birthday I had a talk with the boy about what he'd like for his birthday. After the litany of things that he wants but won't get (iPod touch, laptop) he moved on to things he has a chance of receiving (Mario Strikers, UnderArmor Sweatshirt, Boston College gear). I told him that I had picked up a few gifts and would probably take him shopping with me to get something else.

Fast forward to Monday morning.

I had only picked him up a few shirts, shorts and a BC hat. Nothing major, he needs summer clothes so these gifts fell right into the useful category. I fully planned on taking him to the mall that afternoon but hadn't mentioned it to him. He opens his presents minutes after his 7:36 a.m. birthday. He appears happy.

Fast forward ten minutes.

He's lying on the couch all covered in blankets for the next half hour and then proceeds to go to his bedroom and lie down for another half hour. So unlike him, I thought he was ill.

Turns out he was just pissed.

He makes a snide comment about how much we spent on all of his gifts ($10.00 was his estimate) and rolls his eyes. I sat in stunned silence.

I then proceeded to take the BC Hat, the shirts and all but one pair of shorts off of the table.

I took them away and left one pair of shorts. I told him that the shorts I left on the table cost $10.00 and that he could content himself with those. Which, naturally, left him in a foul mood for awhile longer.

Funny though, maybe because he's a boy, he's over it in like a half hour. He's moved on.

He's worn the shorts twice and only asked for his other clothes back once. Request denied.
He will probably get the clothes at some point (he's in desperate need of summer clothes anyway). Probably.

He's had such a bad case of the haves and havenots lately, the grass is most definitely greener over on J. Drive (where most of the spoiled kids on his bus live) - with their $300.00 iPods and cell phones and hundred dollar sneakers. He's spent the last few weeks letting us know just how badly we are failing him - I mean, why can't we just get him everything he wants? There seems to be no conceivable reason, in his mind, anyway.

I'm sure it's a phase. It's got to be a phase, right?

Saturday's sleepover went off without a hitch. The weather was beautiful, they boys played outside and slowly my yard began to fill up with the neighbor's girls and some random visits from other neighbors and friends.

So, nine kids and a squirt gun/water balloon fight later....

The boys came in to dry off and wait for dark (they wanted to play manhunt) but ended up watching the Bruins game and making goofy videos that only eleven year old boys find amusing. They capped off the night playing Red Steel on the Wii until the wii hours of the morning.

One boy had to leave, because of a migraine, so the other three were all hunkered down in the living room covered with pillows and blankets and trying to hunt each other down with machine guns. Apparently, two versus one isn't as much fun as even teams so after the hockey game I hear one of them say "Ask your mom if she'll play." And my son, apparently not old enough to be mortified by the thought hollers up to me and asks me to join.

I tell them just how terrible I'm going to be and that they aren't allowed to gang up on me until I figure out how to use the controllers. Which, they paired me with the kid who can play anything and he just gunned them down until I got my bearings. Gotta tell you, somewhat strange hearing one of the boys say "Dude, you just shot your mom!" and watching them high-five. Although, revenge was sweet as I sniped him down from a little bunker I found.

Sick. And totally entertaining.

April vacation is breathing down my neck and things being what they are...

My girl is home sick with a fever, sore throat and mildly stuffy nose. Which, hopefully it will go away all on its own but, again, with things being what they are - it will morph into strep throat, but not until Saturday night after the doctor's office has closed for the weekend.

Plus, because I swore I'd never have another birthday party for my son after last year's lord of the flies behavior... he invited his three good friends from school to sleep over that night.
But, because my husband has a soft spot for my boy and his hockey friends there was a dilemma....because I? Wasn't having an eight boy sleep over.

So, in a stroke of extreme stupidity coupled with spinelessness genius we suggested two separate sleepovers...one for school buddies, one for hockey. Because the two? Do not mix well in groups. They take sides, they argue, they are passively agressively possessive of my boy, each trying to prove that THEY are the best friends the boy could have.

Two weekends in a row with sleepovers. Have I mentioned how much I hate sleepovers? Well, I totally do. Our house is small and there is just nowhere to go to escape. I rented some war games for the Wii and we're having pizza and....that's it so far. No other plans have been made, no party favors (save some gum) have been purchased. I need to do something about cake/ice cream/dessert.



In other news I went up the stairs two nights ago...my son had some horrific music blaring in his room and I figured I'd find him drawing or daydreaming. Instead he was totally engrossed....he was reading his social studies book about the Revolutionary War and the Jamestown settlement.

For this boy I would suffer any amount of sleepovers.

So, I was tagged by the Fairly Odd Mother...For five random things and five place I'd like to go. Personally, I think she was just sick of seeing the whole wounded knee photo, which, okay I totally agree.

The Rules:

Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
Share five random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog. Then,share the five top places on your “want to see or want to see again” list.
Tag a minimum of five random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment in their blog.

1. I cannot type 'blogspot' without screwing up. It's always 'blogsopt'. After almost four years you'd think I'd have gotten the hang of it by now, but nope. Plus I hate to type and even though it's partly my job - I'm not even good at it. And don't even care. I'll count it as a bonus that my bosses don't care either.

2. I used to cheat at the speed reading tests in seventh grade. Why? I have no idea. I read plenty fast enough but I wanted to beat everyone else and not just by five words. Or even worse, come in second. Oh, the horror.


3. Once, I called in sick to work and totally went to Martha's Vinyard for the day. By myself - with a beach towel, book and some sunblock. It was great until I couldn't start the rented moped, then I almost panicked and cried. Somehow, lord knows how, but I got it going again and cruised around Oaks Bluffs, half afraid to shut it off. I got over it quickly enough and spent the day reading and trying not to get a too obvious sunburn.

4. I love to plan trips. Or even just look at where we might go...someday. I'm totally a list maker when I'm getting ready... I cannot imagine how much I'd forget if I wasn't. Probably because I truly am a scatterbrain in real life but a smart scatterbrain that knows without a list we'd be bumming without toothpaste, socks and the cell phone. I love the whole process, well, except the packing.


5. My house needs to be vacuumed.

Five places I'd like to visit or visit again:


1. I guess I'd have to go with Alaska. I've been there, but don't remember it...And no, NOT a druken weekend gone wrong...I was born there and we moved before I turned three. I must've said this all before.


2. Game four of a Red Sox World Series...well...only if the Sox have won games 1-3. As an aside, Timlin isn't helping to make this dream location any sort of possibility with his ERA of 27.


3. What I really want to do in the next few years? Drive cross country. With the kids. Sick, I know...and there's no way my barely employed husband could ever take the summer off to come with us . Still, I want to do it.

4. I'd like to spend a few weeks on the Cape, in a house on the beach. Totally full of sand and smelling like sunblock and summer.

5. We'd like to take the kids out to some or one of the National Parks out west - Yellowstone, Glacier, Zion - I should start planning.

And tagging? I would and maybe I will edit this later on to include some random tagging but this post has sat in my drafts folder, half finished, for days now. Time to publish.

Why is it

that when the kids are watching a movie without me it goes by in the blink of an eye but when I'm sitting there with them, the movie drags on and on? Of course this is true for only crappy movies like Cars and such, but still. And no, I didn't like Cars. And yes, I do realize I'm in the minority.

My husband's team lost on Saturday, so the hockey season is done. Well, games are done...there's still ice time. I organized a big party for the team at a local camp/rec hall type of place and then I officially retired as team mom. *cue choir of angels*

On Thursday my boy accidentally tapped a water bottle against one of his teeth and if you have any idea of how our luck goes you'll be able to at least partly guess what happened next.

The composite part of his tooth? The fakey bottom half? Broke off and fell out of his mouth.

So, today? He got his stitches taken out of his leg and a new front tooth built. Plus he got a permanent filling where the root canal had been done. He's some kinda lucky ain't he?

And just in case you're curious, this is what the knee looked like the day after it happened:Click it to make it large...because gruesome details are much better when zoomed up big!

I haven't taken a photo yet of the stitchless knee...rest assured - I will. And then it will take me two weeks to post it.

How entertaining!

So. Having my husband home, while it weighs heavily on my mind (read: full blown panic hits the week after April vacation), it has been kind of handy. He gets the kids on the bus, folds laundry, vacuums, cooks - basically whatever needs doing. (Okay, so I have a wife??) Pluse he's available to take the kids to appointments and friends houses - so that I don't have to miss work. So, moneywise - sucks. Convenience wise? Awesome.

And lookey. We went from this:
Not bad, basic entertainment center type of thing. I hate the curvy scalloped thing on the bottom molding piece but otherwise, it fit the room exactly where we needed it to go. But then Christmas day, the TV goes kerflooey and they just aren't making 32", 150 pound televisions anymore. For shame. (Note the glowing Wii controllers on top? Love that Wii.)


And then, some graph paper drawings and measuring tape magic later..... I got this:

Handmade, exactly to my notpickyatall design requests (yes, the depth of the dentil molding really DOES matter.) by my guy.

We were pricing custom maple trim boards and I , I mean, WE decided that it would be cheaper to just buy the router pieces and design our own. I can't picture in my head the type of cut each bit will make so I have to draw the profiles myself. And to the fella that buys the box of whatever in front of the router bits at Lowe's? I didn't copyright those pencil sketches you're seeing all over your box of whatever, so feel free to duplicate.


My husband never, ever reads this. But if he did? He'd be all fired up because he'd find major flaws in each of these photos. Flaws I didn't and don't even notice. Well, except for the bottom, tiny picture. Because those puttied up nail holes? They make him crazy. And I posted that one on purpose.

So, if I were any kind of blogger I'd be posting about my son's injury (healing well, minor swelling, stitches out next monday)

or the impending hockey playoff season that has my husband making a promise that makes me cringe (if they win it all - he shaves his head. Or rather, my boy does it for him)

or the fact that his team finished in first place (first year coaching, very happy man, big BIG trophies for the kids).

Or maybe I'd post some pictures.

The newly constructed entertainment center. Note that I didn't say FINISHED entertainment center. *sigh*

or

My girlie's new toothless mouth. That has her looking more like a jucket than anything.

Or maybe I could do a meme.

Like the movie one I have in drafts

or the

4 x 4 meme that I've been seeing in a few places.


But sadly, I've been the worst kind of blogger. Lurking, barely commenting and never posting. There's been a lot of working seeing as I'm flying solo in my office now and a lot of sleeping (think 8:30ish p.m.). Lame excuses, I know. I KNOW.

But I am making progress, I mean, look at this lame post :)

Plus I uploaded a bunch of pictures yesterday...so maybe, just maybe I'll have something new here tomorrow.

But don't hold your breath.

In Stitches

The boy: Dad, can you throw the football to me and L. ?

My husband: In a little while...

The boy, grinning: Dad, it's Easter, don't you want to spend some quality time with us?

MH: Fine, but for TEN minutes only. And I'm only throwing...not playing.

TB: Awesome!

Two throws later....

Screams of pain coming from the backyard - my husband cradling my boy on the ground yelling at me to start the car and we need to go to the hospital.

Apparently, in diving for the ball my son landed on his knee square on a rock in the yard. Guys, let me tell you - I've NEVER seen a flesh wound quite like what he got. Gaping. From one side of his knee cap to the other. And so deep, it didn't even bleed.

Dudes. I saw flesh or tissue or something that SKIN is supposed to be covering.

My heart stopped for about five seconds, we covered his leg in a damp cloth and drove him right to the E.R. The boy was remarkably brave crying one minute and joking the next. He handled himself well until they started working...it wasn't pretty but he got it done. I think I will be haunted for awhile with a memory of my son, tears streaming down his face while he hangs on to his dad...and then he turns to me, eyes wide and says "Mom, I'm just so scared" Me too, baby.

Thirteen stitches in all. A huge dose of antibiotics being pumped into him daily (hello, MERSA) and he's got strict instructions not to run, bike or skate for the next four weeks. Which, the no skating thing? He cried and he cried. I'm sure he's not done crying about it but he's coming around.

So, that was our easter.

Honestly, I would've preferred boring but I'm sure in ten years, when he's showing us his scar we'll all have our own memories of this - his father with the guilt: "It was a bad throw" Me: "I can't believe his pants didn't even rip!" The girlie: "Mom and dad totally spoiled you that week" And the boy: "Dude, I saw INSIDE my body"

Easter, eh?

It's not exactly a favorite of mine - it seems like Thanksgiving. With a basket.


I don't even mind hiding the eggs or making the baskets. I just want to stop with the bunny already. But I can't - I worry that the rabbit and Mr. Claus are firmly linked in the psyche of my kids and to give up one would expose the other as a fraud. So. The bunny will come.

That being said - the tooth fairy really should've remembered to visit my daughter last night. She's sabotaging the whole damned thing.




We're trying to determine if my husband's/son's hockey team finished the season in first place. In doing so I find myself rooting against another team of ten year olds - hoping they'll lose(and lose badly...so we can get a lock on the goals against average too). There's a special place in the bad parenting hall of fame for moments like this.

Giant Time Suck

Click here.

And don't say I didn't warn you.

High score?

Thank you guys so, so much for your kind comments yesterday. I just want to spend my days on the couch with his big fuzzy head on my lap, scratching his velvet ears.

But I cannot.

And I cannot even think about it another moment because I'm liable to burst into tears.

So, then.


I signed my husband up to chaperone the gym activites at the yearly luau. The luau, that LAST year, had me crazy with the talk of dates and gifts and other nutso crap.

So, I sign my guy up thinking he'll just be watching the dodge ball game to make sure no one's pegging balls at the other kid's heads and as the guy who is most likely coaching the Middle School Hockey Team next year, we kind of agreed it would be nice for him to be known to some of the parents in town. (Our current hockey league is a mish-mosh of kids from six or seven different towns)

And then the emails start.

They need a chairman for the gym committee. Some guy steps up. Now, this guy is married to that lady. You know the one. Her name is in every school publication as having volunteered for this and that and she's also spearheading this committee and that fundraising effort and she's single handedly knitting book covers for all the curriculum books for first through third grade. Okay, that last one is a lie but she's that type - that kind of makes you gag.

Well, her husband? IS THE EXACT SAME WAY.

Oh, sure there'll be dodgeball but now there'll be volleyball too. In half of the gym. Two games.

But wait! There's more!

It's Survivor! There's going to be all these little mini challenges set up. And there's rules LOTS and LOTS of rules. About single round eliminations! And who to report the winners to! And the value of the prizes! And it's a surprise! Kids must NOT find out! And the adults ---hawaiian clothes, please! He has extras (of course he does!) to share with strangers! And come early! But don't bring your kids! It's a surprise!

Now, I realize that the vast majority of you don't know my long suffering husband. He's a good man and a great father. But. This may just push him over the edge.

Baxter went in for surgery this morning.

It turns out there's nothing they can really do for him.

The tumor is too large to remove, it's invaded the tissues.

He has, hopefully, a few months left.

4:45 a.m.

And I'm up. Actually we're all up.

Let's hear it for youth hockey!

Important Decisions

The Container Store? Or not?

Pancakes for dinner? Or French Toast?

Season Two of Big Love? Or My Sims on the Wii?


See? Ice fishing CAN be fun. For me.

When You've Got Snow Envy

Stay away from all of those Mainer blogs. Jiminy, they've hit the jackpot this year. We've had a lot, LOT of rain. Bore-ing.

My husband is headed up there this weekend and while they might normally snowmobile in to this particular camp...this year they've got to take the SnowCat in first.

So they don't sink or whatever. Who knows...they're men.

I'm taking the kids bowling. Where, last time we went, I scored a whopping sixty freaking four. And sadly...that was with the bumpers. The woman next to me was stinking just as badly and we both looked at each other and said "How can we be pro bowlers on the Wii and this is the best we can do?"

So, the Spiderwick movie? Stunk. I think the high point of the day for the kids was picking up the tickets at a real, live radio station . They had the kids record a little promo message so they could use it on the air...they're practically famous. I mean, there's got to be at least 250 listeners...

Anyway, free tickets to a crappy movie? Still not a bad deal.

But my lucky streak has apparently ended. We went to a parent's night for the hockey league and won NOTHING. We especially didn't win the $1,000.00 cash grand prize or the free year of hockey tuition prize. Oh no. My husband even left every dollar he had in his own truck (which, we drove mine) so he had to borrow money for drinks. So lame. But he didn't have to use the money because everyone bought his drinks all night - I told him that everyone loves a winner (we're currently tied for first place). We did go home with a tray of baked ziti though, so that's something, I guess.

My fuzzy son, Baxter, has yet another tumor. And because of his otherwise seemingly stellar health the vet has recommended that we have it removed. Needless to say, that grand stinking prize would've come in really handy right about now but it wasn't to be and so regardless my pup goes in for surgery on the 11th of March.

Tonight my boy goes to a checking clinic for hockey where he will bounce off the bigger kids (which, since he weighs a whopping 65 pounds - is basically ALL of them) like a little pinball, ricocheting all over the ice. He can't wait, the weirdo.

We have a winner!

So the other day I'm at work and the other employee (there are two of us, total) is listening to some local radio station. And by local radio station I mean small enough that it provides updates on what happened at the Board and Committee meetings of some nearby towns.

They ask some trivia question regarding Garth Brooks and Javelin throwing and I decide that we MUST win the tickets to see The Spiderwick Chronicles (even though both kids have expressly told me that they do NOT want to see it).

I google and have the answer even before the DJ has told us the phone number.

I call and being the obnoxiously fast and correct first caller...I win.

He calls me out on the google. Thankfully NOT on the air, because then I would've felt all kinds of guilty. But he laughs and tells me when I can pick up the tickets.

And so we're going tonight. The four of us have never been to the movies together. It's usually me and either both or one of the kids.

With my luck it's only two tickets as karma has a way of rewarding me swiftly and without mercy.

Have I mentioned my Blingo win? It's nothing too major but as a girl who just cheated to win tickets to a movie no one wanted to see, let's just say I like to win, shall we?

I've always seen the Blingo linkie on other people's sights and thought it was some online bingo thing. And since I've never been wanting to play online bingo - it went unclicked. And then Dawn. She won and she won big. I think she had a choice between a laptop or $750.00 cash. Come to find out the girl that she signed up from, well she won the same prize.

The blingo folks are all about the matchy matchy apparently. So I break down and click and find out it's a google powered search engine. Oh.

So I sign up and within a week I hit it small. A $5.00 Amazon gift card or a free movie ticket. I was way more excited than I needed to be. And if you want to make me happy? You'll all go click that little green button, sign up, win and shower me with prizes.

Sounds good, eh?

*knocks on microphone*

Anyone out there?

Yeah, so I've been not so much with the posting lately. And not so much with the commenting either.

Updates...

There's been a lot measuring and hammering and sanding going on around here. The husband is up to his ears on his yearly unemployment project. Last year it was a bed for the girl, this year it's an entertainment center. We hung the t.v. on the wall like some sort of hipster types and decided to just make something for all of the associated shit (hd box, dvd player, wii).

Dudes, that t.v. freaking wobbled every time the kids ran by and it was giving me a heart attack. Now it's totally attached to the very frame of the house and an earthquake would have a hard time shaking it down. Which is precisely the idea I was going for.

Oh, remember how it was just valentines day? And I mentioned a few posts ago about the son having a crush? Well.

The night before valentines day he asks me to take him out to get a card and/or some candy.

For her? I ask.

Yes, he says, for her.

Um, did you not just hear your father and sister leaving the house to go get valentines for school not two minutes before? And last week when I asked you if he needed anything? You told me no.

Yeah, but I just found out on the bus she's giving me something...can you take me?

Um, no. You'll have to come up with something from the house.

*Look of horror*

I tell him that he can just write happy valentines day on some card stock and wrap up a Reese's peanut butter heart with some ribbon. And he can leave it in his backpack so if she really does give him something, he doesn't hurt her feelings and he can reciprocate.

*look of horror* (because I suggested giving up the precious Reese's)

The boy complies. I cringe because, ugh.


He comes home the next day... and pulls a gift bag out of his backpack. It's red and valentiney looking. And then he pulls candy and more candy and MORE candy from the bag. All from K. And then a card. A grown up card with two people who've just made a footprint heart in the snow... that says "I'm so glad we found each other" on the inside. And says, Love K. And has her school picture inside.

*Gags* (that would be me)

I go down to the cellar/workshop to talk to my husband, to find out if he's seen the gift.

The first thing he asks me is if I've seen the bag.

The bag? I say...

The BAG he says. It's from Victoria's Secret.

*jaw drops to floor*

Really, what's her mother thinking?

Top o' the mornin' to yeh

Scene: My girl getting off the school bus.

Me: Hey there, how was your day?

Girlie: gooood.

Me: What's that near your eye? Were you crying? (Ready to scratch out eyes of girl whose been recently very mean to my beloved)

Girlie, feeling eyebrow... : Oh, that....

Me: Glue???

She proceeds to show me her clothes, covered with whitish spots and streaks...

Girlie: You'll never guess. Can you guess? Okay, I'll tell you. We did....(she inserts a dramatic pause here)

Paper McShea!


Love her.

So the last post pretty much summed up the Super Bowl. The Patriots going down in flames.

I'm going on record here as saying that I did my part. I wore the grey hoodie. I held the World Series popsicle stick. Which, as a testament to my illness, has held a place of honor in my kitchen since October.

Okay, maybe not a place of honor - being thrown into a little basket on top of the fridge with a ton of boxtops, sunglasses and Sox tops - but still.

It was all for naught as the defense let the game slip right out of their fingers, much like Eli slipped out of their fingers during that last drive. But at least the defense played 3.75 solid quarters of football, unlike the offensive line.

And who exactly was calling the offensive plays during the game? Because I'm hoping that they're losing sleep over their poor decisions.

This guy has a great bit on getting over the depression...

And this...my son had this on HEAVY rotation all of last week. Embed it on my blog??? It's embeded in my BRAIN. And it's all irrelevant now, so thanks for that, Flo Rida.




And to Blackbird - because I cannot reply to comments via email (is there a setting for that? It always gives me a bogus 'no reply' message...) - sorry. *hangs head in shame* I'm guessing you're not alone though and that you're not a compulsive gambler betting your mortgage payment or Middle's college tuition. At least I'm hoping your not. *crosses fingers*

Well. That Sucked.

At least baseball starts soon.