Not shrimp

I was a bit puzzled yesterday when Dh called the dinner we were going to a shrimp fest. About twice a year one of the companies he delivers oil to have a huge crawdad feed. Why had they switched to shrimp? I was hoping he was right; I would much rather peel a shrimp. I never did figure out why he said that. We arrived and it was crawdads they were serving. Lane, Princess, and Curly top were the only children that had went with us. The girls had never even seen a crawdad before so I knew they were about to be grossed out. We were a little late so there was not much of a line. Piled at the start of the table were a bunch of cardboard trays. The were actually those shallow boxes that cans are shipped in. From the large pile I handed one to each of the children and kept one for myself. After I watched the large man who was serving the crawdads dump a large scoop into the person's tray in front of me I reached over and put Curly top's tray back up. Princess shook her head no at the man and passed him by. The next server put a boiled red potato into my box, Curly top didn't want one of those either. She did want an ear of corn so I asked for two of those. Princess was happily accepting everything she was offered now that she was past the crustaceans. A bowl of white rice was covered with spice beans and sausages and handed to me. Curly top said no to rice, but she would take some beans. We both passed on buttered white bread, but I made two for Princess. She would eat hers quickly since this is her favorite food. Most of the people were just taking them to butter their corn with. On our way to sit down I see another table serving hot dogs and hamburgers. Our hands were full so we passed by the ice chests full of pop and headed further into the crowded shop to find a seat. As I was walking I tipped my box to one side and juice from the crawdads spilled out of a hole in one corner and ran down my jeans and splashed on my shoe. Great, now I was going to stink.
After we were seated I took the kids back up and to grab a drink. Princess filled another plate with hot dogs and chips. Curly top took a pop and a bag of chips and this was all she would eat that night. The corn I had for her was sitting too close to the crawdads so she refused to eat it. The same with the bowl of beans. The only things she would eat were packaged and sealed when she received them. Kind of odd for a five year old, but she has always been a bit odd about her food. One day last year she wanted a second bowl of oatmeal. As I was carrying it back to her I lifted a spoonful to my lips to feel how hot it was. I didn't actually touch any of it, I was just feeling how much heat was coming off of it. She would not eat it. She said she couldn't eat it now because it smelled like me.
Now that the kids were all busy eating I settled down to the dirty job of peeling these things. There are not many things uglier than a crawdad. I am always happy to pull off the tail and toss the rest of the creature to the side. Unlike a serious eater I do not suck the brains out of the head. Honestly, I'm not putting the head anywhere near my face. I pull the meat out of the first tail and dip it into the sauce. Woah, something is extremely salty. I dipped my potato into the sauce and taste it. No it isn't the sauce somebody must have went a little crazy when salting the water. After a few more pieces of meat I become used to the salt. I like the flavor of the meat, but after a while I move on to my rice and beans. I eat mine and most of Curly top's bowl and I was stuffed. People are going back to have their boxes refilled. My problem is that I never like my food to be so much work. That is why I don't eat many crab legs or sunflower seeds either. I used about ten complimentary baby wipes to wash the itchy juice off of my hands. The itchiness is gone, but they probably still stink even though I washed them twice once I was home. I take the girls to see the pots the are cooking the crawdads in. They always remind me of large Bunsen burners. We then look into the buckets of water that are holding the live ones. There are always a group of boys hanging around these buckets picking them up and playing with them. I'm sure the crustaceans are thrilled, first they are a petting zoo, then the are boiled alive. I won't be surprised if I turned the girls into vegetarians yesterday.
While we were eating Curly top pulled my sleeve and said 'Hey look it's that girl I was playing with the other day, at the golf place.' I looked up and there they were. I'll have to explain this odd coincidence in my next post.

Before I get started I need send out a quick thought to one particular driver.

Hey, guy in the over-sized, blue pick-up. That's right you, the one with his name painted on the back window. I don't know what your hurry was last night, but did you really save more than a second or two by passing me right before you slowed down to turn? Or was your turning such an important event that it deserved two vehicles slowing down for it rather than just the one? I hope, for your sake, that you are more considerate to people than that when you are not driving, because if not you are a real asshole.

What does that say about me when merely having to slow down when I didn't need to caused so much ire?

Dh just called me and asked what I was doing. After my answer that I was cooking supper for tonight he very cautiously said that he had forgot to tell me that we had been invited to a shrimp fest tonight. You would think that after fourteen years he would know that I am basically a lazy person. Instead of getting angry, I was thrilled. Not only do we get to eat a meal tonight that I don't have to cook, but I now also have supper ready for tomorrow night. Luckily I was making stuffed shells, which in my opinion is better after it sits a day.
Usually I don't start cooking supper at 9:00 a.m. unless I am making something that needs to cook all day. Most days I start looking through the cabinets to figure out what I'm going to cook thirty minutes before I need to have it done. Since I'm already starving by this point I grab a handful of Manzanilla olives to eat while I look. Today I was making an exception because I am working all week. On Friday an office called to see if I would fill in Monday and Tuesday afternoon and all day Wednesday. I was already scheduled to work in an office here in town Thursday and Friday. Now I need to go call my sisters and collect on some free babysitting I've surely earned.

Which finger?

You Are a Pinky

You are fiercely independent, and possibly downright weird. A great communicator, you can get along with almost anyone. You are kind and sympathetic. You support all your friends - and love them for who they are. You get along well with: The Ring Finger Stay away from: The Thumb

What Finger Are You?

I'm not sure how accurate this quiz was. For almost every question it was really hard to choose between two answers. O.k. the down right weird part may be accurate.

If your not a criminal shouldn't you be free?

Magic Bellybutton: I want to be free

Please go read this story. That we are letting children be treated like this in our country is shameful. If you feel as strongly as I do, which is very strong, that these are the type of stories our media should be covering and leaving the celebrity gossip to the tabloids then link to her post or write about it in your blog. This story is about something we can and should change in our country.

While we are at let's all write to our national news providers and tell them how we feel about the quality of our news. I apologize to any international readers for aiming this story specifically at local readers, but really civil rights shouldn't have national boundaries, so express your outrage from wherever you are. Sheesh, I'm in Texas on a monthly basis and only heard about this because of a delightful blogger in Australia

Bithday party and prom

We survived the sleepover, and most of the chips have been vacuumed up. Most years we have warm, sunny weather for Lane's party. We go outside and play kickball or soccer. Not this year. Friday it started out misty and cold. By ten it was hailing. At eleven-thirty they canceled school because of snow. For the first two hours of the party he had invited his whole class. That meant I was going to need to entertain over twenty kids indoors. Since he loves Law and Order I had decorated his cake like a crime scene, complete with chalk outlines and a bloody knife. to entertain them I wrote up a mystery for them to solve and gave them all pencils and little notebooks to write the clues on. They got to keep these in the place of goody bags. Dh was very vocal about this not working and that they would hate it, but since he didn't have a better idea we went with it. I didn't hold back from rubbing it in when they seemed to be having fun with it.

The next night was prom. In a small school, our senior class has about 18 students, several underclassmen get invited as dates. They also invite the school board members, all of their current teachers, and all of their previous teachers to the banquet. Lee is a freshman this year and a senior girl asked him to go to prom with her. Every year the sophomore class serves the meal, their reward is getting to go to the dance. I guess I can count on having to rent a tux for the next three years too. One of the memorable moments of the night for me, as an adult the prom pretty much means a free meal and slipping on heels, was how damn handsome Lee looked in his tux. His kindergarten teacher is retired and lives out of town, so he hadn't seen her in while. When he walked up to say hello she stopped looked him over and said she almost wished he were her date. He talked to her a bit about his upcoming trip to Europe and she put into words the reason I have been working so hard to make this happen for him. She and her husband have done quite a bit of traveling themselves. She took him by the arm and said, "Wait until you get over there and see we don't have a corner on the world. You'll see the things they are doing with art, historical buildings, and recycling and be amazed." I really believe that if more of our young people traveled, less of them would grow up thinking that being an American means being right all of the time. I don't mean to slam my country here. I am very proud to be an American and proud of some of the great things we have accomplished. However, I have listened to our government tell us that to be true Americans we have to think as they do, when to me the best thing about being an American is being allowed to think for one's self.
I'm not sure how I got off on that tangent. Back on topic, another thing that I was reminded of on prom night is how mean high school girls can be. After prom I popped back up to drop of some plain clothes for Lee. He wanted them to wear to the after party. I asked one of the senior boys how prom had went and he said it sucked. Lee explained to me that this boy's date, a freshman girl, refused to dance with him most of the night. The poor boy had not realized beforehand that she only agreed to go with him because she wanted to go to prom, not because she wanted to go with him.

The thing about being a parent is that one day I can be gushing about how great my son is and the next day I want to kill him, literally. Sunday I told him to put his tux back on the hanger so I could return it. There is a late fee so I had to return it that day even though I really didn't feel like making a trip. Since I was going anyway I made a list of a few things I needed at the store. It was a beautiful day so I put the trip off for awhile and took a walk in the country with my mom, the girls, and Jason. We walked a couple of miles out. We took a stroller so Curly top wouldn't have to walk on the way home, so we could go that far. There were still patches of snow on the ground from Friday, so I got hit by several snowballs. Jason packed one so tight I was sure I was going to have a bruise.
As I was getting ready to leave I reminded Lee to put his tux on the hanger. He was leaving to go to my mom's house so he ran to his room before he left. I went back to get the tux and it was on the hanger all right. He had tossed the hanger on his bed then tossed the clothes on top of it. I went through my repertoire of curse words as I hung it up myself. When I got to the store I realized the pants were missing. The store closed in thirty minutes and there was no way to avoid the late fee. Worse than the fee was knowing I had to make the trip again in the morning. He was very lucky that I had time to cool down on the drive home. He was also lucky that Jason had went with me and suggested stopping for a milkshake. We had such a good time together that my mood had improved considerably by the time we made it home.
I had an appointment in Guymon the next morning to pick up the cheese Lee had sold as a fund raiser, so I buckled Huggy bear into her car seat and drove in a ninety-five mile circle that morning. We had to be home by eleven to pick Curly top up from preschool.
The crazy part of the trip was that I was dying to buy something. I never run out of town for just one little thing. If I am going I have a list of things to do since I try to only go every couple of weeks. As I left the clothing shop I kept trying to think of something I might need even though I kept telling myself I didn't need anything. I looked back at Huggy bear and wondered if she needed anything. She was content with her crackers and a bottle, so I thought about stopping for ice cream. I didn't really want ice cream, I just had a silly need to do something. Logic won out though and I just drove on home. I also overcame the urge to kill my firstborn.

Lane's birthday

Lane is eleven today. How odd it is to have my baby be so grown up. Next school year he will be in junior high. It doesn't seem like it has been eleven years since he was my nine pound baby. One day he is chubby mama's boy who loved to throw potatoes down the basement stairs for fun, then suddenly he is this little adolescent who is addicted to Law & Order.
This also means I am done with birthdays for the year, hallelujah. With Three in February then one in March and one in April, I am ready for a break. I think Lane's plans are for a sleep over this weekend. We have been raided by all of the boys in his class every year since second grade. I'm going to have to make a run for pop and chips.


Drama Queen is spending a week in jail right now. It is hard to think of her locked so I have been trying not to dwell on it. Last year during her rough patch she ended up with two drunk driving tickets. The irritating part is that she has had the last year to get her life back in order, and she has, but now they are sentencing her. Why wait until she had quit drinking and found a job to send her to jail? This really would have been more effective immediately. She has been planning for at least five days, since that was the minimum sentence, so I hope that the two extra days off won't hurt.

hard decisions

Last night was the hardest night of my year. When I was approached about running for the school board one of my main objections was that I did not want to be responsible for firing teachers. Let me stop here before anybody gets the wrong impression about any school board grandeur. This is a small school with around 250 students. I ran unopposed with no campaigning. I simply registered at the court house to put my name on the ballot then showed up at the polls to vote for myself. The next thing I know I'm sitting at a table with my own little name plate.
Teacher evaluations were the main item on out agenda last night. It's not that there haven't been a few teachers over the years I would really have liked to get a chance to fire. I just don't take changing peoples lives lightly. Basically that is what the seven of us do. In a small community like ours we get to know these people and their families during their first year of teaching. We sit with them at ball games, we invite their children to birthday parties. Then we sit around a table and discuss if they will still have a job here next year, or if they will have to pack up and move away from us.
One of the new teachers last night, Tams, is a very good friend of mine. Both of her parents and even her grandparents grew up in the community. This was one evaluation I wasn't too worried about. When it was time to hire her last year I knew her well enough to know she would be excellent. I like to think that I would have had the courage to turn down her application if I didn't believe she would be a good fit for our school. We will never know though, will we?
Two new teachers last night were asked to resign. This was hard. One of them was an older teacher who was just finishing up his second year here. If we offered him a contract he would be tenured. I knew going into the meeting that I would not vote to offer him a new contract. This is an extremely nice guy, so I was feeling very mean about this. My mantra going into the meeting was 'your responsibility is to the students'. In the end I felt we made the right decision, even though it was hard.
The next one I still don't know about. Part of me thinks we were right to ask him to resign. Another part of me believes I was right to be the one dissenting vote. A first year teacher has a lot of room for improvement. We had one more year before we tenured him, so I was willing to try to work with him on some of his weaker points. I also wondered, in the back of my mind, if part of the problem was that he didn't play the good ol' boy game well enough. One of the opinions we were given last night came from a man who came in the same time as this guy and was in direct competition with him for a few coaching spots. My opinion of this other guy is that he plays the game very well and has formed a kind of a men's club with the administrators. I'm still not sure what I think about this one.
The hardest part was that all of the interesting parts of the meeting took place in executive session. Legally I am bound not to discuss them. Parts of this post are crossing the line a little. Not saying anything to dh, my kids, or Tams when she called last night was very hard, because I really needed to talk out that last one to get a better handle on my feelings about it.

Easter

This morning I woke up, looked around the house and was glad to note that other than the dishes Easter was said and done. We had a great holiday. The only problem was that my brother and Miss Universe both had to work. The gray skies and snow falling didn't make it seem any less like Easter. Last year was a bright, sunny day and I just couldn't get into the Easter spirit, so attitude holds more sway with my holiday emotions than weather. It would have been nice if the snow would have accumulated so we could take pictures of colored eggs hiding in the snow. Since the snow wasn't picturesque we decided not to brave the cold we hid the eggs indoors instead. One of the perks of living in a small town is that with a simple application you can have a key to the school gym. We went down there to hunt eggs, and then stuck around to play soccer. When you are the uncoordinated bookworm in an athletic family you end up being the court jester. I completely missed the ball on a drop kick and was just grateful I managed to stay standing. We will be entertained with impressions of my kicking skills for at least a month.
Back to this morning. I put on the kettle on the stove and came over to the computer so I could finally get around to posting while the kids were asleep. Before I could click on the firefox icon the minesweeper on caught my eye. Minesweeper is my current game addiction. For years I wouldn't even attempt to play. It had a stigma of a game only people who were good at math could play. Math has never been my best subject;I muddled through it in school, but never excelled. About a week ago I read the rules and started playing it and was instantly obsessed. I have not won on the expert level yet. So instead of posting I found myself trying again. The tea kettle started to whistle. Do I let the whistle wake everyone up so I don't run the timer up? Quickly I decided that my objective is just to win not to get a good time so I ran and made myself a cup of tea. I sit back down and went to mark a bomb. The wrong finger clicks and the game is over. I start again. This time I am doing really well. My eye slips down to look at the clock, my tea should be done steeping. I remind myself I don't care about time. I go get my tea. Half way back to the computer the cup somehow manages to slip out of my hand and tea goes everywhere. Good thing I'm not worrying about time. After I get that cleaned up I go back to my game. Now the children are one by one waking up. Lee comes and sits by me while I play. I am at a hard spot with no clues that I notice. Two squares are next to each other one of them have to be bomb, the other can't be. Lee assures me that one square is not a bomb. I decide there is a seventy-five percent chance he is right. I resist marking it though. I recheck all my moves, nothing. It is hard to resist somebody three inches from my ear. I mark the bomb and click the square next to it, bomb, game is over.

Outlander

The lists about books on the sidebar aren't complete yet. I will keep adding a few a day until I catch up. As far as Outlander goes I wanted to add it twice because it was really disappointing. So many people recommended it. There were several post praising it at the Chicklit forums. With all of this build up I was excited when I found it at my local library. I read the first two chapters and had to stop reading and check the number of pages. I was giddy with excitement. Here was a book I could love. The characters were well developed and likable. The humor was dry and subtle. Then it hit me that this was a series of books. I practically peed myself. Then somewhere around the one third of the way through this book Diana Gabaldon must have hit a writer over the head and stole this manuscript. It went down hill and landed into a pile of predictable romance novel tripe. That wasn't quite bad enough though, she then took every easy way out when it came to her characters and plot. I couldn't believe this was the same book I had started. I was in so much shock I picked up the second book in the series to see if it started out as good as the first one. It didn't. The book was returned after two chapters. I was left a jaded shell of a reader at being denied my series of well written, thick books.

shopping

The pickings were getting slim around here, so I gave in and went grocery shopping last night. There are only two things that we don't have here in rural Kansas that I really miss. One is water. I really wish there was a stream, river, lake, or some body of water that we could swim in and picnic around. The second is fresh fruit and vegetables. With shopping trips only scheduled every two weeks I can't buy enough to last. So we spend one week eating fresh veggies and the next on canned. If I am out of town and have the funds I pick up milk and produce, but it is more likely that I will just call my mom and have her pick me up milk on her way home. This is really a small complaint. Not having to deal with traffic on a daily basis is worth the sacrifice.
There are many advantages to shopping at night. One is the crowds are smaller. Two, I get to go alone because it is past the kid's bedtime.
On my way there I decided to stop by the book store. Just a quick look, I told myself. I wouldn't buy any, just browse a few minutes. Yeah right. I did manage to stick with the bargain shelves though. For fifteen dollars I picked up four books. Two fiction and two biographies. I also picked up the girls each a gardening set for their Easter presents, also on clearance, but not included in the fifteen dollars.
The problem with shopping at night is that it is late when get home and have to put up the groceries. It was because it was so late that I went to bed hungry last night. The Rec. is sponsoring a biggest loser competition in town. The four person team I am on consists of myself, Godiva, Miss Universe, and Cass*. I need to lose around twenty pounds by August. Since there is a cash prize involved I honestly believe bodily harm could occur if I don't succeed. I am no good at following a diet, since I love to cook and eat, so I decided to just make a few rules for myself and see how that goes for a month. One of the rules is no eating after ten. I didn't get home until eleven-thirty so even with all of this food in the house, I went hungry.

* I haven't mentioned Cass before. She is Godiva's best friend. Up until last month they ran a daycare together and spent most weekends and evening with their two families hanging out. Now Cass works in the mornings, but helps with the daycare in the afternoons. I honestly don't know how they can spend so much time together. I love all of my sisters, brothers, and friends, but after a couple days together I need a bit of a break. I thought this might be just one of my quirks until one day Miss Universe said, "I just don't get it, I even get tired of my husband if I have to spend two full days with him." My only reply was, "Amen sista"

Diego

Curly Top and I drove Frio Chica to the doctor the other day. We saw the baby and now we can stop pestering F.C. with girl names and focus solely on boy names. It is funny how much more real a pregnancy seems after the ultrasound. At one point Curly Top whispered to me and asked if the baby was naked. After I answered she looked shocked, then stated firmly that we would have to dress it when he came out.
On the way home, it is fifty-five miles to a baby doctor, we pulled over so that several emergency vehicles could pass us. a few miles later at our turn off we saw what the problem was. There had been a car/truck accident with both vehicles landing several yards out in a field. The car was on its wheels and the back end was banged up. It looked likely that there could have been survivors. The truck was lying on its top. The cab was so smashed in that I didn't see much chance of the driver making it out alive.
Frio Chica and I started talking about how scary it is to drive. Sometimes I will be driving along when the thought hits me that I am responsible for all of the lives in the car. Some days the risk we take by strapping our kids in and heading out astounds me. These a fears better pushed back and left alone though. Around here if a person doesn't drive their lives are very limited. This conversation soon led to another one and we were chatting casually and laughing less than ten minutes later. In the back of my mind a thought crossed about how odd it is how quickly we have returned back to our normal cheerful lives while just a few miles away other peoples lives were changed forever. I left that thought unspoken and at the back of my mind. We soon returned home and went on with the business of living.
My brother stopped by and ate supper with us. We had not seen much of him lately even though he does not live too far from here. He explained that he had been going through a bit of a depression and hadn't been getting out much. It was to the point that he thought about quitting both school and his job. I felt guilty because I haven't taken much time to call him or stop by lately.
While he was there Anna called me to say that A boy in Curly Top's class had died in a car accident that afternoon. Suddenly I recognized the red car out in the field. The mother had grown up in Rolla. She was around Drama Queen's age. Diego was her oldest son. She and both of her boys had went to the doctor and found out she was pregnant with twins. On the way home she had moved into the turning lane and stopped. I don't know why the truck was in the wrong lane and didn't see her car. I only know that some reason it was and it slammed into the back of the car.
Please send out good vibes, or prayers out to both the Garcia and Hernandez families.

Jason is thirteen

Jason turned thirteen on the eleventh of this month. I am now the mother of two teenage boys, and I have a lump on my head to prove it. Last night Jason tossed a deck of cards at me. I was laying on the couch, not paying attention and it hit me on the forehead. Later that night when I was brushing my teeth I noticed it had left a knot. I went in and showed Jason and the poor kid felt horrible. He came into my room before I went to sleep and apologized again.
The first thing most people notice about Jason is how flat out handsome he is. Girls his age are always telling me he is hot. One day at a party a friend of ours, who is twenty-two and very attractive, had drank a bit too much. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear and he replied "no thanks, I have a girl friend." She laughed and announced to all of us that she had been turned down by a twelve year old.
To me though the most notable thing about him is how kind he is. He hates the idea of hurting any one's feelings, and really cares about people. Where I am cold he is warm. Last night as I was climbing into bed with no thought of anybody else, only of reading my book, I heard him call Dh and ask how Grandpa was doing. I won't go on about my child much more, because I know I approach the Kathy Lee Gifford level of gushing parents, but I really am proud of this handsome, kind, smart boy I am lucky enough to call son.

games, games, games

It is spring break time here. For the first few days of the week the weather has reflected the title. Today it has turned cool again. I won't complain though because the cool weather is perfect for sleeping in and then browsing the Internet with a cup of Earl Grey. Monday and Tuesday I had to work. So while the sun was warming up the town I was stuck in a dreary, nearly windowless office. The up side is that I finished the book I really haven't had time to read lately. Yesterday I spent as much time outside as possible. Frio Chica* and I went with my boys to the football field and played soccer. We seem to be on a game kick this week. For the last few evenings we have been playing cards. Last night we played Clue and Encore. My mom won at clue and Frio Chica and my mom won at Encore. I wasn't having a winning night. I remember when I was pregnant with Lee, it was reassuring to go to my mom's house and play games with her and my siblings. Now Frio Chica is pregnant with her first child and she seems to enjoy coming over and playing games with me and my children.
I started this post yesterday, but then the boys woke up and I needed to go to the office for an hour, so I never got back to it. Dh's dad is in the hospital with pneumonia. Years of smoking have left him with copd. Dh, Lee, and Lane went to Woodward last night to visit him. Jason and I stayed home since we are planning to go down weekend for his birthday. I think it may have hurt Dh's feelings that we didn't go with him. The two of us are so different in that respect. Whenever I go visit family, no matter how far away it is, I don't expect him to come. If he wants to that is great, but if not I really don't mind. He has canceled trips to Woodward just because I couldn't make them. He also calls a lot when he is out of town. I have to remind myself to call home once a day to check on the family. It is probably hard to be married to such a cold woman.
Jason called Frio Chica yesterday and asked her to come over. He wanted to play tennis, but we both vetoed the idea because of the cold. We played Rummy and Scrabble instead. We called my mom and had here pick up pizza when she got off work. Then we called her back and asked her to pick up ice cream and root beer also. None of us would have driven seventeen miles to get out of cooking, but since she was already out of town we would ask her to run our errands.

* I changed my baby sister's nickname. Originally I had called her the bitch, which I have no problem calling her person, but I could never bring myself to type it. It was harder than you might think to come up with another name for her. Immediately shrew came to mind because often it is used in place of bitch, but in the dictionary shrew and all of its synonyms suggested a hot temper and fiery personality. That is not her at all. Here is an example. On the night of her twenty-first birthday all of my sisters went with her to a bar. It was karaoke night. There was a goofy young man there who kept picking love songs and singing them to her. She did nothing to give him any encouragement. He spent most of his money and bought her a shot of something, and set it in front of her. He then picked up the mike and started to sing another love song to her while standing inches from her. She picked up the drink swiveled around in her chair and started talking to us, ignoring the boy singing to her. I was impressed because had it been me I would have felt obligated to listen to the song, then let the boy down gently, and offered to pay him back for my drink. Her way was much more effective, and really should women be obligated to be nice to a men who are showering them in attention they did not ask for.

Chicken pies and bingo

That title just doesn't have the same ring to it as pork chops and applesauce.
My house is filled with the smell of boiling chicken. This is a good thing if you like the smell of chicken, I do. It would be better if there was also the smell of baking bread, but there isn't. I returned a jacket to my niece, Mon, one day and she burrowed her face in it and said, "This smells like your house." "
Is that good or bad" I asked.
"Good, it smells like cooking food." I was relieved because sometimes I think my house may smell like all of the shoes we discard at the door.
The other day my mom told me that Princess had told her I make the best chicken pie in the world. So that is what I am making her for supper today. Last night we had stuffed peppers and I don't think she appreciated them at all. She stuck with the baked potatoes, which she eats just like I do, covered in olive oil and balsamic vinegar instead of butter. I am going to miss those girls when they move back in with their mother. I have already started to worry about the three of them living in the city alone. It is hard enough to be a single mom, but in a city where they don't really know anybody it is going to be tough. Really I shouldn't be worrying about that yet, that is a worry for the future.
We are planning a bingo night as a fundraiser for Lee's trip. What I don't know about bingo could fill an book. My neighbor offered to donate burritos and tamales to sell at the concessions that night. So now I just have figure out the rest of the menu, and prizes, and what a card should cost. Really, the next time I'm working so hard to raise money I better be getting a trip too.

Okay so I don't do Wednesdays

My voice is slowly coming back. Today I have a low throaty voice that I kind of wish would stick around. So for today when you read this you can hear it in Lauren Bacall sort of voice instead of the Mickey Mouse sort you normally should.
Curly top lost her first tooth last night. She reminded us of it every few minutes and everybody had to look at the tooth and admire the gap it came out of. All this talk about that tooth last night and the tooth fairy still almost forgot to stop by. Luckily my subconscious was aware of the problem and I dreamed about it early this morning. I woke five minutes before the alarm went off jumped up to beat the kids out of bed. Not that I really needed to run. It was one of those mornings when nobody wanted to get out of bed. Three out of five kids tried to fake sick. Lee didn't even have the decency to act sick. He just flat out asked if he could sleep for an hour or two and then go to school. Finally I managed to get them all out of the house while keeping Huggy bear asleep. My reward for that is a couple hours to myself.
I was looking over the activity calender last night and got flat out giddy. As of today my children have no sporting events for the next month. On top of that Girl Scout cookie sales ended yesterday. We have only three more deliveries and that is behind us for at least a year. March may now become my favorite month. I better enjoy every minute of it to because with April will come track, golf,and baseball. Don't get me wrong I love following around my kids and supporting them, but no parent in there right mind isn't ready for a break after a season where there were three different levels of basketball and two levels of scholars bowl all overlapping.
Now if I could just get a break from Wednesdays. I honestly have caught myself saying, "It must be Wednesday, I never could get the hang of Wednesdays." Two Wednesdays ago I knew I needed to go to the Economic development office to get Lee's passport. Why I went to the Extension Office I don't know. I do know that I felt pretty silly when they explained to me that they didn't do that here and I looked around to see where I was. Later that same day I drove the Awana bus as usual. This is something I do this almost every week and every week it is the same kids I pick up. I pulled up at a friends home to pick up their boys. This family has lived in the same house for almost a decade. Not only do I stop here every week, but I have been here for poker nights and cook outs and countless other reasons. So why was some other guy who I also know, sitting in their armchair playing with his kid and looking at me through their picture window? Just a few feet away from this window I paused and looked at him. Then it hit me, I was a house too far south. So I waved at this guy who looked very puzzled and walked next door to where I was supposed to be.
This last Wednesday I drove thirty miles to watch Jason compete in a Scholars bowl meet only to arrive after the award ceremony. I had checked the school's channel that morning to make sure of the location and am still not sure how the start time escaped my notice. That evening I parked the van at the church and left it running. I ran around to help the kids unload. When I tried to get back in the door the whole thing was locked up. Yeah, I need some help with Wednesdays.

Viruses suck

Last week our house was attacked by a nasty virus. One night I stayed up all night with Princess, the nest night with Jason, the next with Curly Top. I have changed more bedding than I can count and have done too many loads of laundry. By the third night I had a full blown chest cold and have lost my voice. On Saturday I came home from work once again and collapsed for a nap. I spent my whole weekend only getting up to do necessary things like cooking, dishes, laundry, and medicating the children then I went right back to my nap. Well to be honest I did a bit of reading too. My boys also spent large chunks of time coming in to lay in my bed and talk. At one point I looked up from my book and all five kids were sprawled about reading. Curly Top can't actually read yet, but she tells herself the funniest stories while looking at the pictures. Most of the symptoms are gone now. The stubborn cough is still hanging about some, and my voice has refused to return but other than that we are back to our daily lives.

Where have I been?

I wish I could say I haven't posted lately because I've been out trying knew and exciting things and really couldn't be bothered. I guess I could say that but it would be a complete lie. Two Fridays ago dh was out of town. My plans for the evening included a cup of tea and a good book. On the way home from work I stopped by Anna's house to chat for minute. The first thing she said was that her husband was working late and asked if I wanted to run to town with her to pick up something to drink.
We came home with a 2004 Cabernet Savignon and a California Riesling. Our plans were still simple. We were going to watch movies and drink a few glasses. Then her phone rang. Her husband and some friends invited us to come to the Country Club. The girls had already went to Grandma's house and the boys were watching movies so I went.
Now we don't really have a country club within 40 miles of here. They just think they're clever by calling our little one room bar that. It is really called The Cantina. The place is so small that whenever somebody is shooting pool on the only pool table, which has to be right in the center, anyone sitting at any of the tables that line the walls have to constantly move to accommodate the pool sticks. We didn't stay long. We're too old to think it is more fun to sit in a smoky room paying to much for beer and talk than it is to sit at home and talk. So we left and by midnight Anna and I had finished off both bottles of wine. I woke up at seven to leave for work. It was cold out but I didn't notice it much. My keys weren't on their usual hook. Were did I leave them? Oh yeah, they are in my coat pocket. The coat I left at Miss Universes house a few days ago. I walked to her house let myself in with my key grabbed my coat and walked back to work. When I walked in the door at work it hit me. I was terribly hung over. Muscle fatigue and vomiting every few minutes made work very hard but I made it. Luckily Saturdays are only half-days.
At home I toasted two pieces of bread and collapsed in Princess's bed to slowly eat them and have a nap. My bed was covered in children who were taking turns playing the x-box and reading. After my nap I felt much better. I cooked eggs and toast for all then we went to the movies. I watched Ghost Rider which was a good movie at the time, but not memorable now. The following week was fairly uneventful.

Land mines in a small town

One of the things that make living in a small town complicated are all of the land mines. Social land mines that is, there is no danger of losing a limb, but they sure make living a peaceful life tricky. Years ago I noticed that falling into a circle was a sure way to have things blow up. Most of these circles are subtle and hard to spot, but there was a particularly obvious one in our town at that time. A circle is a group of people who hang out together as a group and all seem to like each other as a whole. However when any two of them were alone together they displayed a contempt for most of the other members. It doesn't seem to matter which two you got together either. A twosome could separate,walk away from each other, each of them running into a different member, who they had just been talking about, form another twosome, and of course, start talking the person they had just walked away from. Watching this obvious circle years ago I decided I did not want to belong to a circle. One of the ways I have tried to prevent it is to try not to trash talk. For some people that may be easy, but I have days when I find it extremely difficult. On the days when I am fed up and really need to vent I allow myself to vent to only two people, Miss Universe and my friend Tams, they both know me well enough to know I'm only venting and I know them well enough to know they won't use what I say as fodder for gossip. For the most part I have been successful, although I have to check myself every once in a while. One of the reasons I have to check myself is Godiva. There are a couple of reasons for her name, one is her long blond hair, the other is that one night after having a few beers she went across the street and stood behind a sign and removed her pants and shirt. The sign was just the right height so that it covered her from the uppermost part of her thigh to her armpits. Everything that was showing was bare. She appeared to be completely naked when her husband turned around and saw her. Then in the early morning moonlight she ran down the street in her underwear. This is exactly the kind of thing that makes her fun to hang out with. She is also very smart and interesting to talk to, and good person to have on your side when you need help. She has been there for me when I needed her more than once. On the other hand she is a horrible gossip. One morning a few months ago my sister Drama Queen was going through a rather rough time, and was spending a few nights in jail, Godiva actually came to me and said something about my sister being crazy and what were we going to do with her. Then she asked me what the full story was. I had already heard from other people that she sat around with them and laughed at how crazy D.Q. is. Now I'm not saying I'm perfect and have never laughed at somebody's misfortune, because I'm sure I have, but turning a friend's family problems into party entertainment is a little too much. So I tried to keep my voice from being extremely cold ( I think I managed to move it from Arctic to frosty) and changed the subject. Since I was angry and hurt about it I avoided her for a few months. This was a bit difficult since she is family in the most extended in law sort of way. Now that I have worked through my anger and forgiven her, of course without ever mentioning to her how I felt, I have started hanging out with her again. It was hard to watch myself and not trash her during that few months, believe me I had to squeeze my mouth shut more than once.
A few weeks ago Dh called me to ask who in town had a nine month old girl. He had heard a page go out for an ambulance to pick up the baby and mother at the clinic and take them to the hospital. That is how small towns are, when somebody hears something over the scanner they call around to find out who it is. Immediately I thought of Godiva. She has three girls, a baby, a two year old, and an eight year old. It turned out that the two year old had fed the baby six anti-depressants. She was treated and spent a night in the hospital and came out just fine, but it was scary. Of course right away people started talking about whose fault this was. Yeah, Godiva may have made a mistake, but if only people who never made any mistakes had children the world would be a barren place, and many good people would have never been parents. The funny thing I have noticed over the years is that people who point out the mistakes of others the loudest are usually the same people who make very serious blunders themselves.
When I heard that somebody had turned Godiva in to child services I assumed it was somebody who worked at the clinic or hospital. In their jobs they may have felt legally or morally obligated to do so. When people who see these kind of things first hand feel they may need to do something I believe they should error on the side of caution and have things checked out. How else can we battle child abuse? When it came out that it was none of these people who turned her in though, but another woman in town, who would have received all of her information through hearsay I was a little disgusted. Officially nothing came of the investigation, however this has caused a landmine in our community. In a small town all of the parties involved have many different roles. I get along with this woman because I know that she falls into the category of people that are friendly and I talk to when needed, but don't share anything personal with them because I know they will talk about me, and anybody I mention, the minute my back is turned. So now I have to try not to trash this woman whenever Godiva brings it up, which is not that easy. I also am avoiding the woman for a while just in case my disgust for her has not been properly wiped off my face. Why bother with last part? My son works with her, she is Princess's girl scout leader, her and Godiva both work for a organization that Dh sits on the board of. In a small town it is easier to just try and stay out of all arguments like this.

My weekend with Drama Queen.

The minute Drama Queen opened the door I felt bad about being grumpy. I love her so much, and she had not seen her kids in over a month. This is very hard on her and I really should be more sympathetic. I enjoyed spending time with her last weekend. Before we left Wichita I took her by a few stores so she could get a few things. At a couple of places we shopped for birthday presents for the girls Curly Top was with us so she didn't get any surprises, but I think she liked it better that way. While the girls were school Friday I ran her around town so she could get a few things done and really enjoyed all of the time I spent with her. Friday night I went grocery shopping and dh took the boys to a ball game which left her with an evening alone with her children. When I got home I was very tempted to go into my room and hang out with the three of them, but this was their time so I stayed out until midnight when I went in to go to bed. Saturday we had a sleepover for the girls. D.Q. told me more than once that she was glad I let the girls have one because she would never do it. On Sunday the girls and I drove her back to Wichita. One incident did taint the whole weekend for me, but in usual fashion I have been ignoring it hoping it will go away. When I have time and stamina to explain fully I will.

Lee is fifteen

Today is Lee's birthday. He turned fifteen this morning. For me this means that in three years I will have an adult child. This thought has filled me with a jumble of emotions. First fear, fear of turning my baby loose into a world that can be very harsh. Fear that there will come a day when he will move out and we will not ever be as close again as we were when we shared a house. Fear that someday he may decide to have children and I won't agree with the mother he picks for my grandchildren. Second pride, pride in having such a smart, kind, funny man to call son. Pride in watching him handle life's problems with dignity. Pride in knowing that even with all of the mistakes I have made I have stuck to my original goals of giving him roots, stability, and love. Third anticipation, anticipation that someday all of my children will be off living their own lives and I will be able to move some of the things I want to do with my life up on my priority list. I know it doesn't sound nice for a mother to admit that it will be nice when the nest is emptied, but to be honest even though I love my kids and know I will miss them terribly when they are gone, a small part of me looks forward to being able to get a few more things done.
Last night as these emotions started coming to me I wondered if I had done a good enough job. Self doubt took over and I listed some of my faults that I had passed on to him. I sat down at the computer to play spider solitaire. He walked by and reminded me not to close out the window he was on because he was burning a cd, but to feel free to listen to his music. When going over his play list I notice three old Beastie Boys songs. Peace washed over me, I was raising this kid right after all.