My youngest holds it forever. You can hear him farting across the house. It sounds like someone is shooting off a round from an automatic weapon. This an indication that he needs to "go", but he heeds no nudging from me.
Tonight when I ducked into the bathroom to check his bath progress, I was greeted by a pungent stank. Youngest was sitting in the tub, half cocked on one buttock, like he was trying to let one "go". "Get out of the tub and go to the bathroom," I pleaded, my nose watering from the smell. "Ok, Ok," he whined.
A few minutes later, he was yelling from the tub, "I'm all itchy."
"You probably used too much soap again. Stand up and turn on the shower."
"Nooooo," objected my strong willed child.
"Ok, then, get out!"
I proceeded to slather him with lotion to quell the itching and then helped him to bed.
When I returned to the scene of the crime, the smell was still quite acute. I took a couple of steps closer to find bits, MANY bits, of poop in the bathtub.
"****ing gross," I snarled. Then I hit the cleaning closet. Times like these call for drastic measures: Clorox.
This wouldn't be so dramatic if youngest was say, 3 years old. But he is 6. Six years old!!
I did give him a choice: Either you clean it up or you lose 10 compliments (our reward system for doing things right). He's no dummy. Earning 10 compliments is a lot easier than cleaning up shit. He went to bed.
It was only later I realized why he was itching. Shit!
Monday, March 27, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Top 10 Reasons Not to have an Affair
1. might harm the kids
2. screw up your career (esp if you're a minister)
3. might catch an infectious disease
4. might get pregnant
5. can't fart at will any more
6. have to bathe everyday
7. have to shave legs and pits more often
8. would hate to break up Keith Urban and Nicole
9. could go against the grain of being a person of integrity
10. problem of where to hide all the new lingerie from hubby
(This list was generated by Restless Mama and Running Rio during the night of escape at Asheville Brew and View. We had to do something after Duke lost.)
2. screw up your career (esp if you're a minister)
3. might catch an infectious disease
4. might get pregnant
5. can't fart at will any more
6. have to bathe everyday
7. have to shave legs and pits more often
8. would hate to break up Keith Urban and Nicole
9. could go against the grain of being a person of integrity
10. problem of where to hide all the new lingerie from hubby
(This list was generated by Restless Mama and Running Rio during the night of escape at Asheville Brew and View. We had to do something after Duke lost.)
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Meet Patch
Destroyer of prescription glasses, my mobile phone, and Legos. Chewer of shoes, yoga blocks, solar yard lights, many piece of furniture, match box cars and anything in the recycling bin. Burier of 50 rawhide bones given so he won't chew on the above. Jewel Jumper - as in family jewels - to anyone who comes to our door.
It's like having a toddler added to the household, only we can lock him away without anyone calling DSS.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Now That's Showing Your Ass
Last month, while skiing in Colorado, we met some incredibly bright and interesting folks which was conducive to good conversation. And good conversation always includes interesting stories. Here is one I really enjoyed:
This particular story was told by Laura, a warm and genuine southern woman in her late fifties.
Years ago, Laura was skiing with a group led by a ski instructor. Her group included a woman who was significantly older than the rest, but was trying to keep up with the younger, more agile skiers.
After several days of ski instruction, the instructor decided the group was ready for the top of the mountain. After successfully negotiating the ride off the lift, the group gathered together before they tackled the mountain. The older woman, pulled the instructor aside and asked how long before they reached the bottom. Forty five minutes, he told her. She wouldn't last, she told him. She needed to use the facilities. He directed her to the trees between the slopes, and the rest of the group waited patiently. After a few moments, there was an audible yelp from the trees. Everyone looked up to see the woman, skiing backwards, with her ski pants bunched up around her ankles, her buttocks exposed to the elements and the entire skiing population within eye shot.
Eventually she regained control and was able to cover her chapped assets but was, of course, tremendously embarrassed. So much so, that the next day she was too horrified to face the slopes and skiers again; she opted for a quiet day of anonymity by the lodge fire, hoping to forget the previous day's events. There was a young man relaxing by the fire too. He bore a fresh cast from an apparent ski accident. Curious she struck up a conversation with him. What happened to your leg?, she asked.
Much to her chagrin, he relayed the events of the previous day. It seems that he was having a fantastic time skiing when he looked up to see a woman skiing backward and half naked down the ski slope. He was so shocked that he lost his focus and balance and fell to break his leg.
I'm not sure if she remained anonymous but forgetting the show of assets was impossible.
This particular story was told by Laura, a warm and genuine southern woman in her late fifties.
Years ago, Laura was skiing with a group led by a ski instructor. Her group included a woman who was significantly older than the rest, but was trying to keep up with the younger, more agile skiers.
After several days of ski instruction, the instructor decided the group was ready for the top of the mountain. After successfully negotiating the ride off the lift, the group gathered together before they tackled the mountain. The older woman, pulled the instructor aside and asked how long before they reached the bottom. Forty five minutes, he told her. She wouldn't last, she told him. She needed to use the facilities. He directed her to the trees between the slopes, and the rest of the group waited patiently. After a few moments, there was an audible yelp from the trees. Everyone looked up to see the woman, skiing backwards, with her ski pants bunched up around her ankles, her buttocks exposed to the elements and the entire skiing population within eye shot.
Eventually she regained control and was able to cover her chapped assets but was, of course, tremendously embarrassed. So much so, that the next day she was too horrified to face the slopes and skiers again; she opted for a quiet day of anonymity by the lodge fire, hoping to forget the previous day's events. There was a young man relaxing by the fire too. He bore a fresh cast from an apparent ski accident. Curious she struck up a conversation with him. What happened to your leg?, she asked.
Much to her chagrin, he relayed the events of the previous day. It seems that he was having a fantastic time skiing when he looked up to see a woman skiing backward and half naked down the ski slope. He was so shocked that he lost his focus and balance and fell to break his leg.
I'm not sure if she remained anonymous but forgetting the show of assets was impossible.
Your Business
Most men can't multi-task, but my amazing husband can. He can talk on the phone while, um, doing his business. As a matter of fact, I'd venture to say that its uncommon if he's doesn't "go" while having a phone conversation longer than 10 minutes. I have always thought this one of the lowest forms of multitasking, (right down there with clipping your fingernails or flossing your teeth while watching tv). Gross. Hang up and go. Some things aren't meant to be tasked together.
I remember reading years ago, before the mobile phone became common, that 17% of people will use the bathroom while talking on the phone. Recently, after an airport bathroom encounter with a woman on her mobile phone, multi-tasking in the next stall, I became curious; has that percentage changed?
I ran across this website on a google search.
www.quiltednorthern.com/fun/bathsecrets.html
If you thought the bathroom was used for just one purpose, think again! In addition to the bathroom reading done by 74 percent of respondents, the survey found 47 percent of people talk on the phone, 23 percent watch TV and 11 percent even eat in the bathroom. Ty Pennington plays the guitar on occasion while Aida Turtono is known to meditate.
Eating while in the bathroom? Double gross. And who is Aida Turtono, anyway?
What do you do while doing your business?
I remember reading years ago, before the mobile phone became common, that 17% of people will use the bathroom while talking on the phone. Recently, after an airport bathroom encounter with a woman on her mobile phone, multi-tasking in the next stall, I became curious; has that percentage changed?
I ran across this website on a google search.
www.quiltednorthern.com/fun/bathsecrets.html
If you thought the bathroom was used for just one purpose, think again! In addition to the bathroom reading done by 74 percent of respondents, the survey found 47 percent of people talk on the phone, 23 percent watch TV and 11 percent even eat in the bathroom. Ty Pennington plays the guitar on occasion while Aida Turtono is known to meditate.
Eating while in the bathroom? Double gross. And who is Aida Turtono, anyway?
What do you do while doing your business?
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The Last Fall
Basketball wins. I mean the NCAA tournament wins. I could live without basketball until the tournament comes 'round. So my bid to give up alcohol, coffee and T.V. for Lent, skids into hell. But I'm in Heaven for the moment- basketball Heaven.
Check out this link that expresses my sentiments:
So I set myself up for a fall. I hope God understands. Its a humble, glaring reminder that I am not the one in control.
Got to go. Its time for tip off.
Check out this link that expresses my sentiments:
So I set myself up for a fall. I hope God understands. Its a humble, glaring reminder that I am not the one in control.
Got to go. Its time for tip off.
Four Dollars
Getting ready to go on vacation is a major event in my household. I always want to leave the house clean, laundry done, bills paid, and list done so I can relax while I'm gone. Leaving the kids behind, as my DH and I did last month to ski in CO, requires more. I spent weeks trying to nail down all the details, big and small, so I could feel good about leaving town. I created elaborate lists with contacts, phone numbers, instructions for meals, where the kids would land if school was canceled or they became sick, directions to martial arts, etc.
We left on a Wednesday morning, our boys farmed out to our many gracious friends and a capable babysitter. My parents arrived on Friday afternoon for the weekend shift. I left them local park directions, children's museum pass and directions, as well as directions to a few restaurants they may like. At least two years had passed since my Dad visited, so I wanted their visit, especially his, to be effortless.
When we returned, exhausted but rejuvenated from a "real" vacation, I was pleased to hear all my extra effort paid off. Even the directions to school, just in case, were beneficial; my youngest missed the bus once. Before I could finish patting myself on the back, my Dad broke in.
"Next time you go out of town, remember to leave your Ingles savings card. It could have saved me 4 dollars."
Sure thing, Dad. I'd be happy to spend the one minute it takes to get you your own card. I've two years to accomplish that, I thought. But before I could speak, Dad added.
"Luckily someone behind me let me use their card."
Some things are better left unsaid.
Thanks Dad. See you in a couple of years.
We left on a Wednesday morning, our boys farmed out to our many gracious friends and a capable babysitter. My parents arrived on Friday afternoon for the weekend shift. I left them local park directions, children's museum pass and directions, as well as directions to a few restaurants they may like. At least two years had passed since my Dad visited, so I wanted their visit, especially his, to be effortless.
When we returned, exhausted but rejuvenated from a "real" vacation, I was pleased to hear all my extra effort paid off. Even the directions to school, just in case, were beneficial; my youngest missed the bus once. Before I could finish patting myself on the back, my Dad broke in.
"Next time you go out of town, remember to leave your Ingles savings card. It could have saved me 4 dollars."
Sure thing, Dad. I'd be happy to spend the one minute it takes to get you your own card. I've two years to accomplish that, I thought. But before I could speak, Dad added.
"Luckily someone behind me let me use their card."
Some things are better left unsaid.
Thanks Dad. See you in a couple of years.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Fall From Grace
It hasn't even been two weeks since the beginning of Lent and I've fallen off the wagon. Or maybe I climbed on - the sin wagon.
Everyone has someone, something to blame. I'm no different.
On Thursday, I had a rather persistent sciatica problem affecting the left side of my body. Added to that, I hadn't slept much all week - I'd like to call it insomnia but it's not that dramatic. I decided there was only one thing that could cure what was ailing me, but since it was 9:00 am, I didn't think a pint of Gaelic Ale suitable, so I drove 'round to Port City Java a drink of a different sort. I swear the caffeine zapped my sciatica. I couldn't feel a thing. Nor could I speak. I called my friend, Edgymama, and zipped through a conversation at the speed of light, all the while sitting in the Mall parking lot. I sat in my van, in the parking lot, for an hour, caffeine coursing through my veins. I was digging life, in the mall parking lot. That's good stuff. I've got to get some more.
.......
On Monday, I went to see my physical therapist for my sciatica, which had subsided as long as I kept the C close by, but I needed to be sure. He's Eastern medicine mixed with Western medicine, so much of his treatment is non-conventional. He took one look at me and asked, "What happened?" I don't know, I said. After a quick once over, he found the problem: my colon was tight. He moved it around while asking, "Have you changed your diet?" "A bit", I replied, "but it's healthier." He couldn't figure it out, but he made his adjustments and I left feeling much lighter on my feet.
Later, I realized that something else had changed in my diet - no alcohol for Lent. That must be my problem, I thought. My colon is missing it's red wine. That's all it took.
Now, along with caffeine, I'm back on the wine wagon.
TV remains off, however, with the tournament starting this weekend, I'm going to have to give in, just for the basketball.
Everyone has someone, something to blame. I'm no different.
On Thursday, I had a rather persistent sciatica problem affecting the left side of my body. Added to that, I hadn't slept much all week - I'd like to call it insomnia but it's not that dramatic. I decided there was only one thing that could cure what was ailing me, but since it was 9:00 am, I didn't think a pint of Gaelic Ale suitable, so I drove 'round to Port City Java a drink of a different sort. I swear the caffeine zapped my sciatica. I couldn't feel a thing. Nor could I speak. I called my friend, Edgymama, and zipped through a conversation at the speed of light, all the while sitting in the Mall parking lot. I sat in my van, in the parking lot, for an hour, caffeine coursing through my veins. I was digging life, in the mall parking lot. That's good stuff. I've got to get some more.
.......
On Monday, I went to see my physical therapist for my sciatica, which had subsided as long as I kept the C close by, but I needed to be sure. He's Eastern medicine mixed with Western medicine, so much of his treatment is non-conventional. He took one look at me and asked, "What happened?" I don't know, I said. After a quick once over, he found the problem: my colon was tight. He moved it around while asking, "Have you changed your diet?" "A bit", I replied, "but it's healthier." He couldn't figure it out, but he made his adjustments and I left feeling much lighter on my feet.
Later, I realized that something else had changed in my diet - no alcohol for Lent. That must be my problem, I thought. My colon is missing it's red wine. That's all it took.
Now, along with caffeine, I'm back on the wine wagon.
TV remains off, however, with the tournament starting this weekend, I'm going to have to give in, just for the basketball.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Top Ten Things I Learned About Being A Mom (That the Books Didn't Tell Me)
Obviously I am speaking from heterosexual point of view.
10. You become a full-fledged parent when you are baptized by your babe while changing her/his diaper.
9. Most new dads don't take charge, so when he asks, "How can I help?" Give him a list. If he doesn't ask, give it to him anyway. If he DOES take charge, be grateful. Thank God AND your man, because it is rare.
8. Take people up on their offers to help. Give them the list too. Hey, they asked, didn't they?
7. Forgetfulness comes with sleep deprivation which comes with parenthood. Don't worry it doesn't last forever, at least that's what they tell me. (But I can't remember who they are.)
6. Wine is not only good for milk letdown, it is also good for your sanity.
5. Leave the laundry and dishes, or better yet, put them on the list and get some sleep. Just be sure to brush your teeth by noon.
4. You WILL, no matter how foul you think it is now, eventually use the sniff test to check you baby's diaper for a poop deposit.
3. Being a parent is the most challenging, important and rewarding job you will ever have. The challenges never stop; they change in nature, so you can't spend a lot of time patting yourself on the back, as your babe will have already moved to the next chapter.
2. Privacy and modesty have left the building. Babies and children come with bathroom (and privacy) radar; they know you are trying to have a "private moment" and they will hunt you down with their piercing screams or with their incessant pleading at the bathroom door. This radar can sometimes interrupt intimate moments between you and your mate, but most new parents don't have to worry about that for the first 6 months as sleeps trumps intimacy. Sorry mates.
1. People like to say, "Once you have a kid, your life will never be the same", but what they often forget to tell you is - that is absolutely the best part about it!
10. You become a full-fledged parent when you are baptized by your babe while changing her/his diaper.
9. Most new dads don't take charge, so when he asks, "How can I help?" Give him a list. If he doesn't ask, give it to him anyway. If he DOES take charge, be grateful. Thank God AND your man, because it is rare.
8. Take people up on their offers to help. Give them the list too. Hey, they asked, didn't they?
7. Forgetfulness comes with sleep deprivation which comes with parenthood. Don't worry it doesn't last forever, at least that's what they tell me. (But I can't remember who they are.)
6. Wine is not only good for milk letdown, it is also good for your sanity.
5. Leave the laundry and dishes, or better yet, put them on the list and get some sleep. Just be sure to brush your teeth by noon.
4. You WILL, no matter how foul you think it is now, eventually use the sniff test to check you baby's diaper for a poop deposit.
3. Being a parent is the most challenging, important and rewarding job you will ever have. The challenges never stop; they change in nature, so you can't spend a lot of time patting yourself on the back, as your babe will have already moved to the next chapter.
2. Privacy and modesty have left the building. Babies and children come with bathroom (and privacy) radar; they know you are trying to have a "private moment" and they will hunt you down with their piercing screams or with their incessant pleading at the bathroom door. This radar can sometimes interrupt intimate moments between you and your mate, but most new parents don't have to worry about that for the first 6 months as sleeps trumps intimacy. Sorry mates.
1. People like to say, "Once you have a kid, your life will never be the same", but what they often forget to tell you is - that is absolutely the best part about it!
Saturday, March 04, 2006
March Madness
The big game, UNC v Duke, is now in progress and I am listening to it on a weak am radio signal. I like listening to Woody and the gang and have done so for many games this season as we don't have expanded cable, but sometimes you just want to see it on the big screen.
Not to be- today or for the next 5 & 1/2 weeks. I gave up T.V. for Lent. And Coffee. AND alcohol. My friends, including my friend in ministry, think I'm nuts. So far, I'm sane. Coffee has been my challenge so far but the withdrawal headaches have subsided.
Of course, I miss my daily glass of wine, but I figure I can make like my Catholic friends and have a drink on Sundays, if it comes to that.
As anticipated, I haven't missed TV - until now. What was I thinking? March Madness is just around the corner. I love March Madness. It is basketball at its best. Underdogs making stunning upsets. The favorite pulling off a victory with a last second shot. It's unpredictable, as it is COLLEGE basketball. The players are still kids, making kid's mistakes. I LOVE it. But I've cut myself off.
What have I done?
I think I need a drink. Is it Sunday yet?
Not to be- today or for the next 5 & 1/2 weeks. I gave up T.V. for Lent. And Coffee. AND alcohol. My friends, including my friend in ministry, think I'm nuts. So far, I'm sane. Coffee has been my challenge so far but the withdrawal headaches have subsided.
Of course, I miss my daily glass of wine, but I figure I can make like my Catholic friends and have a drink on Sundays, if it comes to that.
As anticipated, I haven't missed TV - until now. What was I thinking? March Madness is just around the corner. I love March Madness. It is basketball at its best. Underdogs making stunning upsets. The favorite pulling off a victory with a last second shot. It's unpredictable, as it is COLLEGE basketball. The players are still kids, making kid's mistakes. I LOVE it. But I've cut myself off.
What have I done?
I think I need a drink. Is it Sunday yet?
Friday, March 03, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Apolo
Last night I watched Apolo Ohno win the Bronze medal in the Olympic 1000 meter short track.
Man does he have grace and poise. After a tough and fair race, one in which he appeared to have raced to the best of his ability, Andrea Joyce of NBC, cornered him to find out why he had failed to win the gold. She didn't come right out and ask it but she implied it over and over again in her short interview with Apollo.
What amazing grace this young man displayed in this woman's continuous peppering of questions to find out - what happened? Why didn't you win the Gold medal?
Apolo was clearly thrilled to have won the Bronze medal and concede the Gold and Silver to the Korean pair that beat him. He never wavered in his enthusiasm and wasn't apologetic for third place.
Good for him. You don't have to be first place to be a winner.
Now Chad Hedrick's comments about Shani Davis' win was another story. The man could take some tact lessons from Ohno.
Man does he have grace and poise. After a tough and fair race, one in which he appeared to have raced to the best of his ability, Andrea Joyce of NBC, cornered him to find out why he had failed to win the gold. She didn't come right out and ask it but she implied it over and over again in her short interview with Apollo.
What amazing grace this young man displayed in this woman's continuous peppering of questions to find out - what happened? Why didn't you win the Gold medal?
Apolo was clearly thrilled to have won the Bronze medal and concede the Gold and Silver to the Korean pair that beat him. He never wavered in his enthusiasm and wasn't apologetic for third place.
Good for him. You don't have to be first place to be a winner.
Now Chad Hedrick's comments about Shani Davis' win was another story. The man could take some tact lessons from Ohno.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Valentine Riddle
What do you get when you cross a menstruating woman in the middle of a kitchen renovation with two boxes of chocolates from the Chocolate Fetish?
hint: the answer is NOT Terri Hatcher
hint: the answer is NOT Terri Hatcher
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Grammys
Did you see Gwen Stefani? What was she thinking in that Bam-Bam get up? Or is it Pebbles?
My spouse said, "Looks like she met a man", referring to her blossoming mid section. I'm totally out of it here. Is she pregnant? Who's the daddy/ mommy?
Ok, I just got a peak, ok more like a view, of Terri Hatcher's bosoms on live television. She doesn't do it for me. Not enough meat on her the rest of her bones.
Kelly Clarkson--cute and really blonde. And a real woman with curves and flesh.
Keith Urban--Hot, sweaty and hoarse. Sing it baby!
When did Faith Hill learn to play the guitar? She doesn't sound good. Maybe too many things to think about with the guitar and all. I saw her on some (taped) special over the hoidays and she actually sounded really good. Oh well, as long as she's performing, Tim McGraw has to be close by. He rocks.
My spouse said, "Looks like she met a man", referring to her blossoming mid section. I'm totally out of it here. Is she pregnant? Who's the daddy/ mommy?
Ok, I just got a peak, ok more like a view, of Terri Hatcher's bosoms on live television. She doesn't do it for me. Not enough meat on her the rest of her bones.
Kelly Clarkson--cute and really blonde. And a real woman with curves and flesh.
Keith Urban--Hot, sweaty and hoarse. Sing it baby!
When did Faith Hill learn to play the guitar? She doesn't sound good. Maybe too many things to think about with the guitar and all. I saw her on some (taped) special over the hoidays and she actually sounded really good. Oh well, as long as she's performing, Tim McGraw has to be close by. He rocks.
Duke v UNC
My boys looked good last night, especially the Freshman.
JJ Redick is unbelievable but I don't like his drama act. Falling down when no one has touched him, trying to draw the foul. No Oscar for him. Wonder where he gets his dramatic flare? There always seems to be one Duke player who likes to "act". Do they have special classes for the players? Or are they just taking a cue from the their dramatic coach K? When he is bitching about a "call", which is pretty much the entire game, he looks like a Chihuahua.
Feeling baited, Rio?
JJ Redick is unbelievable but I don't like his drama act. Falling down when no one has touched him, trying to draw the foul. No Oscar for him. Wonder where he gets his dramatic flare? There always seems to be one Duke player who likes to "act". Do they have special classes for the players? Or are they just taking a cue from the their dramatic coach K? When he is bitching about a "call", which is pretty much the entire game, he looks like a Chihuahua.
Feeling baited, Rio?
Bubble Burst
Five days with Jimmy, Rosalynn, and so many interesting, fun people.
Four nights without the kids.
Three days of skiing.
Two days of snow adventures - snowshoes and snowmobile.
One day of travel - without the kids.
8 hours of sleep every night.
2 hours of napping.
30 minutes of a joyful reunion with my children.
2 minutes to read the letter from my youngest's teacher that burst my vacation bubble.
Now today its off to:
30 minutes with the teacher and principal
1 hour with his pediatrician
countless hours with a psychiatrist to manage his impulse control.
Its good to be home.
Four nights without the kids.
Three days of skiing.
Two days of snow adventures - snowshoes and snowmobile.
One day of travel - without the kids.
8 hours of sleep every night.
2 hours of napping.
30 minutes of a joyful reunion with my children.
2 minutes to read the letter from my youngest's teacher that burst my vacation bubble.
Now today its off to:
30 minutes with the teacher and principal
1 hour with his pediatrician
countless hours with a psychiatrist to manage his impulse control.
Its good to be home.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
JC & Me
Sorry I haven't been 'round lately. This business of preparing to go on vacation without the kids is a full time job. Rides, sitters, meals, not to mention all the many things on my list that I feel compelled to do before I leave - things that I haven't bothered with for six months. Something about going on vacation inspires me to clean my plate so I can start anew when I return.
So I am off to ski with Jimmy Carter. Well, I'm guessing at 81 he won't be skiing, but we'll see.
I tried watching the state of the Bush Union tonight, so JC and I can have something to talk about. However, after 30 minutes of retoric from the Bush, I had to turn it off before I became ill. That's just not cool before vacation.
At least he paid tribute to Coretta Scott King. Now I can say that I applauded him.
So I am off to ski with Jimmy Carter. Well, I'm guessing at 81 he won't be skiing, but we'll see.
I tried watching the state of the Bush Union tonight, so JC and I can have something to talk about. However, after 30 minutes of retoric from the Bush, I had to turn it off before I became ill. That's just not cool before vacation.
At least he paid tribute to Coretta Scott King. Now I can say that I applauded him.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Well This Is It Now
Rob keeps waking me.
He has become my alarm clock, of sorts. For the past week,without fail, he has roused me from the fog of dreamland, crooning his moving lyrics.
It is deeply flattering to have this amazing, gifted, hot singer some ten years my junior lavish me with his sultry - dripping with sex appeal, voice. (Didn't I mention he is hot?) Normally I wouldn't complain, but out of all the dittys in his repertoire, he keeps singing the same one over and over.
Well this is it now
Everybody get down
This is all I can take
This is how a heart breaks
It's starting to make me feel a little insecure about our relationship.
Guess I'll have to put my son's CD player on shuffle. Then maybe RT can stir me with:
Call on me
I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me
Forever it's you
Forever in me
Ever the same
He has become my alarm clock, of sorts. For the past week,without fail, he has roused me from the fog of dreamland, crooning his moving lyrics.
It is deeply flattering to have this amazing, gifted, hot singer some ten years my junior lavish me with his sultry - dripping with sex appeal, voice. (Didn't I mention he is hot?) Normally I wouldn't complain, but out of all the dittys in his repertoire, he keeps singing the same one over and over.
Well this is it now
Everybody get down
This is all I can take
This is how a heart breaks
It's starting to make me feel a little insecure about our relationship.
Guess I'll have to put my son's CD player on shuffle. Then maybe RT can stir me with:
Call on me
I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me
Forever it's you
Forever in me
Ever the same
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Covergirl
"What are you doing?", my friend Susan asked as I paraded through the rounders at K-Mart trying not to broadcast my entire phone conversation.
"Just Christmas shopping", I replied.
"Do you have some time before you pick up the boys from school?"
Hmmm, a loaded question. Not very quick on my feet, I replied "Yes". What am I getting into?
"We just need to just take a few pictures of you trying on pants."
Huh? Susan's husband is a photographer but I didn't know anything about his work. This image came to my mind - me wriggling my bum into a pair of jeans while the camera clicked furiously focusing on my better half. Kind of erotic and sexy, so I headed right over to the studio.
Boy was I disappointed. They needed someone to model old lady jeans. You know the kind. Elastic waist, and full legs. Comfort over fashion. Check that. Comfort, no fashion. I even had to hike them up right underneath my breasts, just like my grandma did, to get them to look right. My only consolation was they had to pin the material back from my legs as they were swimming in old lady hell. And, oh yeah, these were only waist down photos, so I'd be incognito.
This is humiliating. My first and last modeling job, I thought. Then they handed me a check. I thought this was just a favor for a friend. I had no idea I would get paid.
"Call me, on the line. Call me, call me, any, anytime" I sang, in my best Blondie impersonation, skipping out the door.
Look for my "work" in the Sunday sales flyers. I'll be the one with the forty year old legs in the gunny sack pants. I'm sure you'll be able to tell the difference.
"Just Christmas shopping", I replied.
"Do you have some time before you pick up the boys from school?"
Hmmm, a loaded question. Not very quick on my feet, I replied "Yes". What am I getting into?
"We just need to just take a few pictures of you trying on pants."
Huh? Susan's husband is a photographer but I didn't know anything about his work. This image came to my mind - me wriggling my bum into a pair of jeans while the camera clicked furiously focusing on my better half. Kind of erotic and sexy, so I headed right over to the studio.
Boy was I disappointed. They needed someone to model old lady jeans. You know the kind. Elastic waist, and full legs. Comfort over fashion. Check that. Comfort, no fashion. I even had to hike them up right underneath my breasts, just like my grandma did, to get them to look right. My only consolation was they had to pin the material back from my legs as they were swimming in old lady hell. And, oh yeah, these were only waist down photos, so I'd be incognito.
This is humiliating. My first and last modeling job, I thought. Then they handed me a check. I thought this was just a favor for a friend. I had no idea I would get paid.
"Call me, on the line. Call me, call me, any, anytime" I sang, in my best Blondie impersonation, skipping out the door.
Look for my "work" in the Sunday sales flyers. I'll be the one with the forty year old legs in the gunny sack pants. I'm sure you'll be able to tell the difference.
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