Moehabba a.k.a. Tommy

Have you met my brother?

He used to be a drooling dork.  We would play on the trampoline and all of the sudden there would be a big wet spot where he had drooled. 

He would drive me crazy because half the time he didn't know what was going on. 
When I was punching him in sheer rage he would start to laugh, which still enrages me-- watch out. 

He once ran over a snake with the lawn mower and came screaming into the house on the verge of fainting, vomiting, and crying.

All in all he was goofy.

Then he grew up (literally, he is 6'6" or something like that) and suddenly he turned cool in a goofy kind of way. 

If you ask me his life changed when he got contacts.

He was a rollerblading champion.  He won freestyle competitions and could jump over cars (ooh... ahhh...)

He could jump on top of a stone trashcan from a standing position (like a velociraptor).

He worked at a skate shop and made art out of odds and ends.

He became less irritating and more humorous.

But you don't have to take my word for it... check out his latest artistic endeavor on his blog:  hotpoopy.blogspot.com

And by the way, he designed his own blog background too... cool right?

It's not society... it's my son

So a few weeks ago I was sitting at lunch with my friend Sara and I was complaining about the fact that I have gained weight despite my best half-hearted efforts.  What I didn't take into account was that John was sitting next to me. 

Since then he has not ceased to remind me that I need to lose weight.  It comes up in conversation, it comes up out of the blue.  I tell him it hurts my feelings and he says, "well, I can't say you're skinny... you're not." 

Thanks buddy.  If you know Jared at all then you know John's personality is so similar.  Don't ask either one if you're fat, they don't know how to fake it-- even if it might be in their best interest. (Not that Jared tells me I'm fat-- he doesn't-- and I know better than to ask)

This morning after a similar conversation sweet Katherine runs up to me and says, "Mommy, you're just the right size for me!" 

Ever the diplomat.

Oh and by the way, don't bother telling me I'm not fat... but also, please don't tell me that I am. Thanks.

You tell me...

Am I a bad mother because I let John play no less than 5 hours of video games today?
In my defense we did go to the library...
But then I let him check out a book called "The Truth About Roswell"-- bad mother again (ie. alien nightmares waiting to happen).
He spent a few minutes watching his new favorite show, "America: The Story of Us"
But then he wanted to skip to the "good part"-- wars, explosions, disasters, guns, Indians...
Later, I made him play tether ball with me...
But then I forgot about lunch...
And then for dinner he had a bowl of cereal and two waffles doused in syrup...

Summer break is off to a stellar start...

Under Kitty's Pillow

The other day Kitty told me she had been saving candy under her pillow for a special treat in the middle of the night.  Ever since she has taken a portion of her treats to place under her pillow.  Today I took a peek...

Happy Birthday to Me

I have a few weird little traditions that I share with myself every year on my birthday. This is one of them. I find myself singing this song to myself throughout the day and it makes me smile. My favorite lines are, "I remember you. You drive like a PTA mother." This isn't the best live version, but I had to pick it because it was performed on my birthday... almost like they did it for me.

If you decide to watch it be sure to stick around through the first little bit... Oh yeah, and it's called "Happy Birthday to Me" performed by Cracker on 5/16/2009.

Have you ever felt like your chest was going to explode?

That is how I felt watching the weather report tonight.  More clouds and rainy snow.  By the way, I wanted to throw the remote at Kathy Sabine.  She thinks she's so cute.  I actually heard her say a weather system was going to "sit and spin" over the state... really Kathy?

As if the weather report isn't enough... I get an ulcer every time they talk about the oil spill.  Why is everyone so excited to show the footage of oil spewing out of the ocean floor at 2 gallons a second? Is it because they like knowing they're making thousands of helpless people sick about it? 

Stay away from me until the sun comes out and the oil stops spilling.  Oh yeah, and the miners... save the miners already.

Ain't no sunshine.

Granted, the window might be dirty, but it's also snowing out there.

The weather is the worst it has been for years.  I promise it is.  We have totally skipped spring this year.  Spring- my favorite time of the year- skipped.  Winter took over and won't let go. 

Today the newscasters were laughing about how we have had a record 7 months of winter.  Laughing.  Like it's funny.  It snowed October 10 and we have had cold, sunshineless days since.  And guess what?  I grew up here so don't tell me, "Welcome to Colorado" with a smug smile.  This is not typical.

And do you know what the difference is?  Sunshine and 70 degree weather.  That is what has me down, there is no sunshine. We have had maybe two good days in the high 60s. The dominating temperature has been 53 degrees.

Back in the day Spring meant sunny mornings with birds singing.  There was a fresh smell in the air as I made the short walk to my high school.  Spring brought with it the impending end to the school year, lunch outside, and an attempt at a tan.  Later, when I was in college Spring happiness intensified.  Hundreds of students would sit on the greening grass to study.  Spontaneous Frisbee games would put me on edge, but then so did people tossing a football.

I am crabby, moody, and grouchy.  I need the Spring.  I needed it two months ago when it was supposed to arrive in fits and starts.

On the eve of Mother's Day...

I should be:

• Cleaning the house in order to appease the guilt and disappointment of waking up to it tomorrow.
• Doing laundry so that I won't feel the need to do any tomorrow and so it won't pile up another day for my  Monday chores.
• Working on the downstairs bathroom-- that would actually be satisfying.
• Sewing dishtowels for teacher gifts.
• Shopping for flowers to plant in my pots so I can wake up to a semblance of Spring tomorrow.
• Spreading grass patch repair throughout the backyard.
• Weeding.

If I did all that then I would feel free to relax and be appreciated tomorrow.  Instead, I guess I'll just sit here thinking about it.

My Mom

The Folks

I've been thinking a lot about how I am becoming my mom.  I know it sounds cliche, but really, I am.  And that's not all bad because I like who I am and I am learning to accept my obviously inherited traits.

Here are a few things about my mom:

She insists that she was blond and tan until she had children.

She calls her beautifully muscular legs "football player legs" and claims her calves are wider than my dad's.  It apparently doesn't matter that we have debunked this theory several times by making scientific measurements.

She used to make us go to bed at 7 pm.  I vividly remember hearing the kids riding bikes in front of our house during the summer months.  I now know the value of early bedtime and the value of hearing your friends out playing while you are in bed, just ask my kids.  Oh yeah, and blackout blinds.

Back in the day she tried to be healthy.  We would go to school with egg salad sandwiches (stinky!) on homemade bread (embarrassing!) and if we complained that we never got dessert in our lunch she would say, "I gave you grapes..."  I still remember eating the crusts from Missy Dugan's peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread.  I guess you could say that was my dessert.

Those were the days when she made bread.  I distinctly remember getting hurt at school and my mom rushing in to get me.  She was covered in flour and had on her white apron.  I think she quickly lost interest in the labor of making bread for the family, probably because she got pregnant with Nat and life got complicated and busy.

She has her convictions.  When I came home singing the "Baby Bumblebee" song she was disgusted.  She called the principal and complained that her first grader was singing a song about vomiting.  I was afraid to go to music class for the remainder of the year.  She threatened to call the school and tell them to send us home because our rooms weren't clean.  We never could be too sure... I mean who calls about a song from music?  My mom does.

She once had a full out shouting match with my Brownie leader for some injustice I'm sure.  I've NEVER done that... at least not with a Brownie leader.

Back before the second litter (aka Nat and Meri) she was a disciplinarian.  She acknowledges that I got more than my share.  Mostly because I was "the only one she could hear" with my "shrieking".  When you felt her fingers squeezing your ear you knew you were officially BUSTED.

Right after Meri was born my mom had to go back to work. With that came a lot of emotions and stress.  I remember we were driving home from someplace asking what we were going to have for dinner.  She said we were going to have left-over navy bean soup.  As we all protested she burst into tears. What seemed so random makes all kinds of sense to me today.  Jared can attest that I have NEVER done that...

Another time she discovered all of the crackers she had bought were gone.  She got angry and teary again.  This time she claimed we were, "punishing her for working".  We laugh about it now, but again, it's all too familiar.

By the way, I love my mom. She is responsible for much of who I am today-- either genetically or by example.  And as a quick disclaimer, I grew up in a family where teasing is the highest form of love.  If your aren't being made fun of to the point of tears...

Happy Mother's Day!

***Maybe the sib's could write their own memories on their blogs, I need a laugh and I'm sure mom does too!***