Posts Tagged ‘family’

I made sloppy joe’s for dinner last night, yes it’s a veritable cornucopia of gourmet treats at my house.  While browning the ground turkey, it occured to me that other people might not pound the crap out of their meat with a wooden spoon like I do to make sure there is not one bit larger than a pea and god forbid there be a ‘string’ left.  You know how the meat comes out of the grinder in long strings and if you don’t, well, pound the crap out of it with a wooden spoon, it will brown in those long strings and that just makes me want to gag.

So I started thinking about the fact that I’m kinda OCD about stuff, but they are very random, which keeps things interesting.  It’s like I have some distant relative of OCD who comes to visit my brain once in a while at completely unexpected times and yet, when he’s here, HE’S HERE TO STAY.

I’m completely compulsive about the pillows on my couch.  The hub unit will throw them on the couch in any order and while I applaud him for the effort, IT MAKES ME INSANE that they are not all straight and in a particular color order.  I don’t mind that they get used, but for goodness sake, PUT THE ZIPPER SIDE DOWN!

Actually I’m pretty compulsive about how my house looks in general, as it must be NEAT.  However, I really couldn’t give two figs about whether it is CLEAN.  So thank you to Cathy for sending me EVA, our saviour 🙂

Then there is the difference between hub & I.  This morning he made a big show of putting on his Santa Clarita Choppers t-shirt, which came with the Harley we brought home a few days ago.  We got one for the monkey as well and as hub was putting his on, I kept shaking my head NO NO, cause the little guys t-shirt was in the laundry.   OOPS.  Meltdown. 

Hub:  How dirty is it?

Me:  Well, he wore it all day, and then he slept in it.  He’s eaten in it and played at the park in it.  Since then, it’s been in the hamper, under other dirty clothes for two days.

Hub:  Only two days?  Kid come here, let’s put your SCC t-shirt on.

Different standards.  Made my hair stand on end, but the smile on monkey’s face helped me keep the bile down.  Of course, I can’t hug him, but whatever. 


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My big sister is here visiting from northern California.  She is this fabulously creative, supportive, nurturing, giving and incredible woman (who by the way, doesn’t see any of that in herself, sheesh, maybe we set the bar too high for ourselves??) and I love her unique perspective on the little things in this world.  The following conversation took place while we all sat at the dinner table watching a recording of the Discovery Channel show about the Endeavor Space Shuttle launch, which my three year old is completely fascinated with.  Yeah, he’s smarter than me, so what?

After watching all the astronauts get suited up and hearing a little personal history, including the list of degrees each of them have, my sister turned to me & the hub unit and said:

Sis:  ‘Jeez, these are really smart guys.  It makes you wonder if these are the kind of people we SHOULD be sending into space.  I mean, what if something happens again, like it did with Columbia?  All that knowledge and experience would be lost.’

A moment of silence.

Hub: ‘Weeeell, if not these really smart guys, who should we be sending up?’

Me:  ‘PERHAPS we should send up some guy named Earl.  After all, the inside of the space shuttle probably doesn’t look all that dissimilar to the inside of a double wide.  Actually, if you could just make the controls look like a TV remote, we might have a shot . . . ‘

Let’s take a vote.  Really smart astronaut guys or Earl?? 

Just a glimpse into the profound thinktank that is my house, where we delve into the pressing problems of the day and come up with viable solutions. 

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I used to think I was a patient person.  Actually, if I’m being honest with myself, perhaps patient isn’t the correct word.  I was, um, easygoing.  And possibly just easy, but that is definitely another post.

Being an older mom, I really started out feeling like I had patience in spades.  After all, we waited so long and went thru so much on our infertility, hysterectomy, adoption journey just to bring the kid home – why would I ever YELL at him????

Then he started wanting to do things for himself.  Freakish. 

Do you know how long it takes a three year old to brush his teeth?  WELL, let’s see.  He must walk to the bathroom, climb up on the stool, climb down from the stool, open the drawer, take out the toothbrush, close the drawer, climb back up on the stool, climb back down from the stool, open the drawer, take out the toothpaste, close the drawer, climb back up on the stool, put down the toothbrush, turn on the water, open the toothpaste, squeeze the toothpaste onto the toothbrush, close the toothpaste, tip over the toothbrush and smear the toothpaste all over the counter and the clean shirt I put on him only one minute ago before he walked to the bathroom, cry, cry, yell at me for trying to help, say ‘I do it,’ open the toothpaste, squeeze more toothpaste onto the toothbrush, close the toothpaste, set down the toothpaste, pick up the toothbrush, put the toothbrush in his mouth, swallow the toothpaste without it ever having touched a tooth, move the toothbrush back and forth three times before saying ‘I all done, mama,’ point to his teeth and say ‘white teeths,’ climb down from the stool, open the drawer, put in toothbrush and toothpaste, close the drawer and leave the bathroom.

Perhaps this is why I may need a few more sessions with his holiness, the Dali Lama. 

But hey, things are looking up.  I read today that the Catholic church is going to allow confessions via the INTERNET.  Talk about a blog I wanna read . . .   That would be a real timesaver if I were Catholic.

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I thought I’d start today with a list of the things I’m grateful for in my life 🙂

10.  Not being born during pioneer days.  No really, this is a big one.  I don’t think I’d have done well without contact lenses, automobiles, shopping at Steinmart, indoor plumbing and microwave Lean Cuisine.  Although, the full skirted fashions had their advantages in hiding the booty . . .

9.  Having reached my peace with my father before he passed away from lung cancer.  I was able to be there to help take care of him and share valuable time with him and my brothers & sisters.

8.  The hard, dark, bouncing off the walls, deep in the pit of dispair times I’ve had in my life, which helped me become the person I am today, she who is able to appreciate all the wonderful things in life. 

7.   The smell of the bath rug aisle in the Wal Mart.  You know, the matchy matchy ones with the rubber backing.  There is just something about that smell that makes my mouth water and I feel all oogy inside . .  in a good way.  DON’T ASK.

6.  The opportunity to work at a job which I truly loved, with friends I treasured.  It was a blessing afforded me by people who had faith in me and whose opinion I valued highly.  I am grateful every day for knowing the joy of being successful at something which was challenging and rewarding beyond my wildest dreams.  Thank you Universal Music Group.

5.  Beauty around me.  I have always had trouble with my eyesight and I fear that some day it will not be good enough to enjoy the beauty around me.  Whether it is the way my older son’s blue eyes look when he smiles, or the way my younger son’s tongue reaches out like a windshield wiper around his mouth to get that last bit of melted chocolate, or the way my husband’s hand looks on my stomach when he sneaks up behind me and grabs me to sway to music while we’re cooking dinner.  Or it’s the way the white clouds look passing thru a particularly blue sky overhead, seen thru the leaves of a tree with pink flowers.  So many simple, beautiful things surround us every day, every minute and they give me amazing energy.

4.  The feeling of sitting in a bubble bath on a warm summer afternoon, with the window open, a gentle breeze stirring the curtains and the sound of kids playing somewhere in the neighborhood.  That along with a great book, time to enjoy it and a cold can of COKE gently fizzing next to my head. 

3.  The three year old who is sitting in the living room playing with his space shuttle (the LITTLE one mama, not the big one), after eating his eggs and strawberries, because that’s what he woke up asking for. 

2.  The 24 year old son who called me Mom for the first time 3 years ago.  Wow. 

1.  The husband who saw all the potential in me that I never saw in myself and coaxed it into bloom.  I love you, Hub Unit.  

I hope everyone has a wonderful, relaxing, or energetic if that’s what you prefer, weekend 🙂

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