Out of the Depths of My Perception . . .

Hubs thinks that I have no depth perception.

Apparently . . . hubs is right.

I backed into a pole, but that's not the worst part.

Nope.

Not even close.

The worst part was when Ellerie tattled on me saying, "Mommy said, SHIT!!!"

Traitor.

Getting to Know Me . . . Getting to Know All About Me . . .

So you want to know more about me?

Really?

Well, here goes.

My second starring vlog.  (Here's hoping my face and the sound syncs up so that I do not do another badly dubbed Kung Fu-like video.)



There is oh so much that I could have included but forgot when I was in front of the camera.  Stuff like . . .

1.  I keep my tweezers in the car cup holder because my vanity mirror seems to be the only place that I can see those pesky stray hairs.  In fact, I spied one such hair yesterday ON MY CHEEK.  No.  I am not kidding. 
2.  If I find a noticeable gray hair, I will pluck it out.  I am vain.  I get it.  I don't want gray.  Sue me.
3.  I have a drawer in my kitchen dedicated to coffee making.  This is probably because it is easier for hubs if everything is in the same place, and if, god forbid, I have to make the coffee, I know that I will be able to find everything that I need in my half asleep mode.
4.  I don't do Kids Bop.  If my kids are listening to Pop Music, it is by the actual artist and not by some weirdly wholesome singing kids that remind me of the Partridge Family. 
5.  If I could be barefoot all year, I would be.

And finally . . . please excuse the Max and Ruby music in the background.  The Max and Ruby bunny cartoon is apparently like crack to my 3 year old.  If it was up to me, I would probably pull a Fatal Attraction  move on Ruby so that I would never have to hear her again.

Sigh.

****Linking to Mama's**********

Incidentally . . . HOW DO I GET THE SOUND AND VIDEO TO LINK UP?????  I WANT TO SHOOT MYSELF I HAVE BEEN AT IT FOR SOOOOOOO LONG!!!!!!

When Blessings Come in Disguise

A shot of whiskey would have been great last night.

While the kids and I were at the ball field,  a line of low angry clouds marched boldly toward us from the west.  I cautiously kept one eye on my iPhone weather application while my other eye was shooting the umpire silent messages to call the game.  Hearing a low rumble of thunder, I ordered the girls to the car and was just about to don my crazy mom mask to run out on the field and bodily remove Ethan from the game when the umps called the game. 



This is an actual picture of the sky from our area posted to a friends FB page.

 The entire mile and a half home the wind rocked my car from different directions, while the radio steadily beeped weather warnings.  When I heard the kids actually begin to whimper from the back, I turned off the radio and spoke calmly.

"Guys.  It's OK.  When I stop the car and open the side door, just run for the house.  I will grab Ellerie."
Then, I stopped the car, turned around, and gave them my best smile, "Ok?  It will be fun."

The kiddies didn't smile back, and when I opened that side door and the wind rushed in . . .  the car noticeably rocked and the panic set in.

"OK!  GO!"

And we ran.  As sheets of rain came at us sideways, we ran the 50 feet to the house and made it inside safely.

I herded the kids into the basement with flashlights in tow, started the kids on a game, and turned on the TV.

Then I called hubs.

He was on the highway on his way home from golf. 

"I'm OK hon.  I have never seen the sky so black though.  It is eerie.  I am by the mall. I should be home in 20 minutes . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Paul? Are you still there? "

Silence.

I had lost the call.

Phone in hand, I turned my attention back to the TV, and there on the news was the weather man showing pictures of the weather camera at the mall.


Talking about the roof being blow off the  hamburger joint at the mall.

Talking about the roof being blow off the Penney's store.

Talking about the traffic on the highway being stopped.


I clutched at my throat because suddenly, my necklace felt 3 inches too tight.  I turned my phone over in my hand and dialed hubs' number.

Riiiiinnnnng.

Riiiiinnnnng.


Riiiiinnnnng.


And then I heard hubs' voice on his voice mail.

"Shit," I whispered.  I turned off the TV.

"Mom?  Are you OK?"  Abs questioned.

I smiled weakly.  "Yep.  I'll be right back."

I crept up the stairs, walked to the dark dining room, sat down and dialed again.

Riiiiinnnnng.


Riiiiinnnnng.

Riiiiinnnnng.

With shaking hands, I pushed the end call button.

And then I sat in the dark  . . . and cried.

My thoughts went to all those dark places that thoughts should never go.  What ifs marched through my thoughts as my heart raced and my hands shook. 

And I cried.



And as I cried, I prayed. 

I prayed for Paul and his safety. 

I prayed for everyone in the storm's path.

I prayed for strength.



Finally, my hand shook with vibrations from my phone, and on the other end was the sweetest voice I have ever heard.

"Babe? I'm OK," hubs said.

And I cried.

With big heaving gulps, I cried.

Rainbow after the storm.

I am blessed.

Truly.


**************End note . . . we are all OK and damages are minor in our area.  Today, I feel incredibly blessed, and I continue to pray for those that have been affected by these storms.*********************








I am linking to Shell's Things I Can't Say . . . because although I could write this, I could not speak this or explain this without losing it.

The Next Dancing With the Stars Star???

Whenever I need a smile during my day, I turn on the tunes and let the kids go at it.




Seriously?

How can you not smile at that?

Now, off to change my panties.

My old, grey bladder . . . she ain't what she used to be.

******************************Linking to Mama Kat's with this vlog.  The prompt was to show something your kids do that is funny or makes you laugh.********************************

When A.S.S. is Not A Good Name . . .

When hubs and I faced the task of naming our children, we had a ridiculously difficult time.  Since we are both teachers, ordinary names were laced with connotations.

"What about Scott?"  I would suggest.

"Nope.  Remember Scott C?"   hubs would remind me.  "He set a fire in the school bathroom?"

Instantly, "Scott" was delegated to the toilet.

"What about Heather?" hubs would suggest.

"Wasn't Heather the girl who arrived to the school dance with a white short skirt and no panties?"  I asked.

Hubs chuckled and replied, "Yep.  No Heather."

Every single name we picked out had a story attached to it which made choosing just the right name maddening.

When I was pregnant with Ethan,  we thought that we had found THE perfect name.  We had no negative associations with either the first or middle name and we thought that we were in the clear.  We chose Anthony Steven to be our baby boy's name and for about a week we would both talk to my belly using silly voices and the name Anthony Steven.

Then one day it dawned on me.

Our last name begins with an 'S'.

Our baby boy would be Anthony Steven 'S'.

A.S.S.

Nice.

Clearly, we could not saddle a child with ASS initials, and we went back to the drawing board.




And now we are facing another naming dilemma.

No.

I am not pregnant.

But this little guy will be joining our insanity in a few weeks . . .

and we are at a loss for names.

Any ideas?

Victoria . . . I'm Pretty Sure She Farts Too

*******disclaimer . . . blogger is being temperamental . . .I apologize if this shows in your reader a few times . . .********

pic from victoriassecret.com

"Hey! Nice butt!"

Amused, I turned around slowly, faced my son in the mall corridor, and blushed.  "Ummmm, thanks Ethan? That makes mom feel good."  I was a bit uncomfortable with the compliment, but I was also flattered. I reflected that at age 37 I had just completed a half marathon, and now my kid recognized that I had a nice butt.

I seriously rocked.

Rocked.

My arm, however,  was quickly broken while I patted myself on the back when Ethan explained, "Oh mom!  Not your butt!  That butt!" And with that, he pointed to the 12 foot poster in the Victoria's Secret store window.  It showed a faceless model leaning over a car showing off her lacy drawers. She did, in fact, have a nice butt.  A I-have-never-had-three-kids-and-ate-my-weight-in-chips-ahoy-cookies butt.

Sigh.

My mood suddenly tanked until Ethan said, "Why would anyone take a picture of a butt?  Butts are gross!  I mean . . .they're butts."  Then he paused and said slowly for emphasis, "Farts.come.out.of.them."

So, I may not have a Victoria's Secret model's butt, but I do have a 7 year old little boy that makes me laugh.

And, Ethan?

He seriously rocks.

Rocks.

The Man I Love . . . Makes Me Crazy . . .

Hubs and me.   We put up with each other's crazy. Thank God.

Things that my husband does that makes me 10 shades of crazy . . .

1.  Sniffs his clothes to determine their wear-ability.
2.  Analyzes people to determine which eye, the left or the right, is smaller. 
3.  Eats chicken wings with only one hand, his left, in order to save his right hand for important things like shaking people's hands. (Although, to date, no one has arrived at our table at the chicken wing joint wanting to shake hub's hand.  It is, after all, a chicken wing joint.)
4.  Spends hours watching a you tube video about how to solve a rubik's cube.
5.  Loves me despite the facts that I  . .  .

•  rearrange furniture weekly.
• have a van that is "mommed" and should be condemned.
• have accidentally dyed his clothes various (and lovely, I might add) shades of pink.
• have a missing sock basket that contains over 100 socks.  This is not an exaggeration.
• have to have the covers "just so" when I sleep.  If he jams them up . . . watch out!
• screw up something or embarrass myself or the family on a regular basis.

Seriously, the man is a saint.

I give him props.  He loves me and the crazy.

And, if he does a few things that make me nuts,  I'm OK with that.

It's the crazy that makes me smile, too.

Linking to Mama Kat's

OH MICKEY YOU'RE SO FINE . . . Except When You Are a Mouse in My Kitchen . . .

Hubs launched into his diatribe before I could even get my coffee this morning.

"Annie, I swear.  It was like he was mocking me."

Unable to answer him without caffeine, I casually looked at him and raised my right eyebrow in a question mark.

He acknowledged my question with further explanation.  "I was just sitting in the chair last night, and he came out from under the cabinet, stopped, and looked at me.  Really.looked.at.me!  As if he was saying, 'You've got nothing, big man.  You've. got. nothing!'  And then he ran right into the fireplace." Hubs pointed to the fireplace and the gas logs that were now strewn haphazardly around the hearth for emphasis.

I swallowed my coffee, letting the caffeine do its work, and I asked the question hubs did not want to hear.  "So you are saying that this mouse has gotten the best of you?" I paused and then goaded a little, "C'mon Paul . . .really?!"

His answer was swift and immediate.  "Oh no.  Not my best. Mickey can't look at me like that.  No way!  IT IS ON!!!"  He was using his coach pre-game pump up voice.  And before he could utter the words, I knew what hubs would say next.

"This. means. WAR!"

So, tonight the war between Mickey and hubs is on.  Traps will be set, and if I know Mickey, I am pretty sure that those same traps will also be thwarted.

I mean, if Mickey could outsmart Nathan Lane . . .


imdb.com

 Hubs just doesn't stand a chance.

Stay tuned for Mousehunt II . . . The Midwest War!

This Oven WAS NOT Full of Lovin'

I was a naive teenager.

I'll admit it.

I was the girl that thought that when Madonna sang Like a Virgin, she was talking about the Virgin Mary. 

I was the girl that had no idea what Frankie was really talking about when he sang Relax . . . Don't Do It, When You Wanna Come.

Yep.

That was me.

So when I had my first job at a local pizza place, I suspected nothing amiss.  I eagerly swallowed the story that the only size work shirt that the shop had left for me was an extra small.  I readily believed my boss and his son as he handed over my uniform, and I left feeling great that I would start my new job the next Friday evening.

A new job and free pizza?  Seriously, what more could a teenager want?

Apparently,  I could have taken the lead from The Wizard of Oz's scarecrow and wished for a brain.
Because I certainly wasn't using my brain when I showed up for my shift wearing my way too small t-shirt uniform with the words Luv'n Oven emblazoned across my boobs.

Naive?

Yes.

Clueless?

Most definitely.

The bright side?

I made loads of tips that I am now sure were not because of my smile.



********Linking to Mama Kat's . . .****************

A Gift for Mother Nature for Mother's Day

Dear Mother Nature,

Mother's Day is coming up this weekend, and I thought that I would get you a gift.  (I am good like that.)  At first, though, I was perplexed.  I mean, really, what do you get for Mother Nature, the mother of all mothers?

Flowers?



redbudfarms.com



Umm. No!  You grow the most beautiful ones yourself.

Candy?



godiva.com



No.  Not quite right.  Although dark chocolate is such a treasure!

And speaking of treasures . . . what about precious gems?



Nope.  Again, you could make those yourself, deep within the earth.

But then I had a eureka moment!

Mother Nature . . . may I present you with your new Garmin GPS !

garmin.com

Because judging by the amount of rain that we have received lately, I think that you must be a little directionally challenged this year.  You must think that the Midwest is really a rain forest, and I am here to tell you, it is not! 

So please Mother Nature, use your Garmin well.  Locate the Midwest.  Locate the rain forests.  Notice that they are in two very different parts of the globe, and then, promptly redirect your weather and climate choices.


Sincerely awaiting the spring sunshine (and a dry basement),

Annie

PS  Just wanted to throw out there that we are in a recession.  The best way to keep your job is to do it well.  Just sayin'.





Success! And a Naked Man . . .

Me overlooking the swollen Ohio River at mile 7.

I did it.

13.1 miles in the Flying Pig Marathon? 

Done!

So, did pigs actually fly?

No.

But . . . .

There was a monsoon to run through.

And . . .

A man was arrested and tased at mile 6 for running naked.

No.

I am not kidding.

And, no.

There are no pics or video I can find.



My two cents?

1) Life is never boring.

And

2)  Don't you think that running naked in the rain would, well, hurt?  Just wondering.


Off to eat (and eat and eat!!!)