Carolyn's Family Blog

And So It's Been Awhile (AGAIN! It's like deja vu or something!)

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 02 Apr 2013 02:27:00 +0000

Hi all! I can't believe it's been almost a YEAR since I have posted something on here. A friend of mine sent me a most lovely email that said she had read the post where my mom and I went to Williamsburg just after her cancer diagnosis. (And was that ever a fun trip - read about it here.) I appreciated her comments and it made me go back and read that post again. And I still find it funny. It made me laugh and smile. (Thank you MYRA!)

So it also got me to thinking that I really should write something on here. Especially since all of you probably think my mom has passed, since her prognosis back in Jan/Feb of 2012 was 5-9 months. But guess what?

SHE'S STILL HEEEEEEEERRRRRE!

Lest you think this is an April Fool's joke, I can assure you that it is not.

Nope.

Weezie is still alive and kicking. She did stop her treatments right before Thanksgiving in 2012. She did the chemo for as long as she could, but it was totally kicking her butt and she finally decided she'd had enough. And seeing her now compared to how she was when she was on them, it is a no brainer. She totally made the right decision. She's back to galavanting around town with her friends. She even wanted to go in to her oncologist's office today and sit in an exam room until he came in and then she was going to yell out, "April Fools! I'm still here!!!!" (And of course, I'd have laughed my ass off. And as nice as he is, he wouldn't have gotten it. But my mom and I would have and we'd have laughed all the way to wherever we were going next and then some.) Boring story as to why she didn't do it ~~and plus I'm just feeling lazy and don't want to type it all out~~. But it would have been awesome to do that had it worked out. So anyway, the point is, my mom is feeling good these days. And that is quite a wonderful thing to see.

We are doing well. Joshua is enjoying school again this year. I can't believe that my baby is having yet another birthday shortly. Time does fly.

And Quincy, the slobber dog, is still smelly and drooly and quite disgusting. He's a great dog in spite of those major flaws.

My husband is awesome as always.

And so I guess I am writing just to say we are all here. And that I am enjoying having my mom back for whatever time she has left. And that it has been really fabulous having her looking and feeling mostly good. I know it won't last forever. But by the same token, I never would have thought I'd be sitting here FOURTEEN months after her diagnosis talking about spending time with my mom over Easter this year. And to be able to write that makes me a very happy girl indeed.

At the moment, life is good. I'll take it.

Be thankful and savor all the good moments. I am trying my best to do that too these days. :)

Happy Day, folks!

A Word of Advice - Keep Your Eyes Open All the Time. Otherwise Change is Gonna Knock you SILLY.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 18:43:00 +0000

Sorry, sorry, sorry. . .

I know it's been a while.

Life is happening. And lots of it is happening a lot faster than I had anticipated. It's also happening, in a lot of ways, that I don't like or want. But what am I to do about that?

My mom is hanging in there. But it's hard to watch her be sick and not feel like doing anything. That's not who she really is.

Anyway, I digress away from my point, but not totally. So here we go:

I was upstairs in my son's room putting him to bed the other night. Somehow or another, I asked him if he remembered his crib being in his room when we first moved in. And he couldn't remember it.

I, of course, remembered it like it was yesterday. It was on the opposite wall from where his bed is. We moved his bed in his room immediately even though he was still sleeping in his crib, because we knew it probably wouldn't be that much longer until he moved out of it. And I'm sad to say, I don't remember exactly how old he was when he moved to the bed. I do remember it was, of course, really fast. One day he wanted to nap in the big boy bed, and I believe I remember that he was sleeping in the big boy bed for everything by the very next day. One day, my baby was a baby, and the next thing I knew, we were disassembling the crib.

Same with his clothes. I bought him some new underpants the other day. And they look so BIG. And then I remembered some of his first pairs of underpants. I even went upstairs and pulled a pair out. And they were sooooooo tiny! Part of me couldn't believe that my baby was ever that small, and another part of me couldn't believe he was so big now!

Life is like that. It comes at you fast, and if you aren't looking, it just keeps right on going. And that's sad when we are in "that" place, because then we miss stuff.

With my mom being ill, it has made me wonder what I missed about her. What questions will I not get to ask her? What will I never know about? That is sad.

Her illness seems to be progressing quickly. At least I think so. I could be wrong, and I hope I am. We moved into this house just four short years ago. When we moved in, I never EVER would have thought my mom's health would be where it is today. I wished I would have known. I'd have paid more attention.

Sorry - I know this seems like a downer kind of a post. But it is just a little of where I am today. So do me a favor. Slow down. Pay attention. Look around. Ask questions about your loved ones. Stare at your kids and see if you can actually see them growing. I know we can't see everything, but we can at least pay more attention while we are here.

Oh and one more thing: Hug and kiss all your peeps today. The ones that matter. I'm going to do that every chance I get.

Happy Day, folks.

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! WE ARE BEING ATTACKED BY GIANT ANTS!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 15:24:00 +0000

OK, so I had a totally different idea for this post. And I'm bummed because I needed to take a picture of something, and now I can't find it to take a picture of it. And this first picture was just going to be, like, a little bitty blurb, but now I have to turn it into a whole post. So wish me luck, right?

This morning was crazy because we had someone coming to our house for an appointment, and Joshua and Jamey both slept late, so neither of them were dressed when the dude showed up. And that's really not all that important, but of course, because I am now having to turn a blurb into a whole post I'm filling up space with insignificant verbiage. Deal with it.

And so I ran to the dryer because, of course, I couldn't find any pants for Joshua to wear. So see? It's at least a little significant. Anyway, I run to the dryer, open it up and scream my head off. Because THIS is what I see when I open the dryer door:

Holy CRAP, right?!?!?!?!

And I'm not saying, "Holy crap look at that dirty rag there". It is clean. I scrubbed my floors with tea. But that's another story. . .and so of course I'm not saying holy crap to the rag, It was the GIANT ANT!!!!

And then before I could bolt out of the house yelling hysterically and it all coming out almost incoherently to anyone listening (which, let's be honest here, that would probably be, um, NO ONE...) about how we are moving right this very moment because our house is being taken over by giant ants, I remembered that the giant ant is, of course, plastic. And that I had Mr. Ant in my back pocket last week when I did music at the preschool and the "friend" I brought to do music with me was an anteater named "Artie the Anteater" and I wanted to give "Artie" a snack, and what better to give him then a giant plastic ant?

And so all that to really just say a giant WHEW. IT'S FAKE. We can live in our house still.

This brings me to the whole point of this ridiculous post. I scare myself all the time. I don't know why. But I do. I will be in the house, and I know that other people live here too (including all the other voices in my head, but again, that's a post for another time), and one of them comes walking in, and I jump and give a little scream. You know. Because I'm sure my little boy is a thief about to steal our valuables. Oh wait. We have no valuables. So see? There really is no reason to be scared. But I usually am.

One other example is when I was in the regular working world and I worked from one of those ~~totally depressing~~ lovely cubicles (why DO they only come in "ugly beige" or, even better the "oh my goodness I want to kill myself blue" color???). Keeping in mind that these cubicles are TOTALLY OUT IN THE OPEN, and you can hear anyone coming, I would constantly hear someone coming around the corner, and guess what happened? Uh huh. Scare myself to death. It's a wonder I haven't had a heart attack. One guy would even warn me. He'd start talking and say, "Hey Carolyn, it's just me Tom," and then like Pavlov's dogs, he'd come into view at the entrance of my cubicle, and I'd get startled and gasp and complain that he'd scared me.

I think there must be a solution to this. I know what some people would say. In a word? Xanax.

Husband? He'd probably say, "Commit her".

Joshua? He'd say, "Mommy, you're weird."

Quincy, our disgusting slobbery vile mongrel? He'd say, "Who's Quincy?"

Does anybody else do this, or is it just me? Um. Don't answer that.

Happy Day, folks!

If You Don't Have an Emotional Reaction to This Post, There's Something Wrong With You.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 13:34:00 +0000

For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you know that a while back, I posted about how I wanted a sewing machine. I was totally looking for someone to say, "Oh hey, I've got an extra, brand new, in the box, sewing machine just laying around, and it is super duper fantastic and so are you, so here you go I'm just going to give it to you." But no one said that. And that was OK by me, although at the time, I'd sort of wished since no one said that, it was because they were just going to go out and buy me one. (Boy, you think I expect a lot of my friends, huh? Not really. That's just me living in my little fantasy world where me and all my friends are filthy freaking rich and famous and all that good stuff. So see? I am spreading around the wealth and good cheer in my brain to everyone. Are you confused now? Don't worry. Me too.)

Anyway, the point is that I never got a sewing machine. But guess what?

I'm now getting a sewing machine.

But I don't want it.

It is my mom's.

She called me on the phone the other day and we were chatting about some things, and then just out of the blue, she said, "Oh by the way, the next time you are over here, please take my sewing machine home." And Joshua was home so I stifled my sob, and practically whispered, "Are you sure?" And she said, "Yes. I'll never use it again." And a small soft sob came out and I bit my hand to make me stop crying. Because I didn't want Joshua to hear me. And that worked because I bit hard enough that it hurt like hell. Oopsie. I could totally be a Twilight vampire. Maybe I'll get some red contacts one day. Oh no wait, I need Amber ones. I don't want to be a Volturi. They are gross. . .

Anyway, I digress.

So I will have totally a bittersweet attitude when I go over there to get it. Sigh.

The other part of my post today is also bittersweet. And it also has to do with sewing.

Years ago, as a present to my mom, I "bought" her a quilting class. She'd always wanted to try it, and so I gave her the classes for some kind of occasion. And she made her first quilt, and I said to her, "I want one too!!!" And then I proceeded to watch her make quilt piece after quilt piece after quilt piece. And none of them was a quilt for me. That's a total bummer, right? I mean, I bought her the classes!

Fast forward a couple of years. I met my lovely husband. We were getting married. And so I said to mom, "BOY, you know a quilt would be a great wedding present." So we finally went, and I picked out the fabrics that I liked and my mom went to work. I don't remember the name of the quilt block I picked out, but it was very pretty and it sort of looked like pinwheels. So I waited. When she finally got it all pieced together, she showed it to me. And it was going to be gorgeous! And so I then waited for her to quilt it.

And I waited.

And I waited.

Jamey and I have been married for just over 15 years now.

I got a phone call the other day. It was my mom. She said, "Hey. If I told you that if you came over here right now, for something that would totally be worth your while, would you come?" And I said, "Yes." And she said, "Well come over." It took me a few minutes, because Joshua was at children's choir and I had to wait for Jamey to get home to make sure someone was home when Joshua got home.

So I drive over not knowing what it could possibly be. As I pull in the driveway, someone else is at the house, so the only thing I can think of is that my BFF, Yvette, has come into town to see me! And then I think that's silly. My dad greets me at the door and tells me to go back to the guest bedroom. I walk in, and the first thing I see is my mom and her friend, Carol, standing there with cameras pointed at my face. And I'm all excited because I mistake them for paparazzi at first, and I think that I'm finally really famous, and that my blog has gone all viral and Barbara Walters must be standing in the wings waiting to do an interview with me.

OK. No I didn't think that. I totally knew it was my mom and Carol. But wouldn't that bit about paparazzi be much more fun? I think so too.

Anyway, there they are standing there and snapping pictures. And then I glance down at the bed, and drop my purse and gasp. I'm in shock.

It's my quilt.

It is so pretty. Carol's sister, Mary Ann, heard about my mom's quilt and got it from her. She machine quilted it. It's got a gorgeous pattern of leaves all over it. Like they are floating in the wind. It's so pretty. She did it for nothing. And I look at it and I start to cry.

I love it. I will always treasure it.

I have to say a HUGE thank you to Carol and especially to Mary Ann for finishing it for my mom and me. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.

Just so you can see it - here is a picture of it. You must ignore all the things in this room except for the quilt. The paint color was here when we bought the house, and the room is not coordinated at all. But I wanted you to see the quilt and how gorgeous it is. I'm so proud of it. Here it is:

See? Most Beautiful Quilt in the Universe.

I love my mom.

Happy Day, folks!

If My Kid Ever Figures This Arrangement Out, I'm SCREWED.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 20:27:00 +0000

I love my son so very much.

And I think I may have mentioned on here before that there really isn't a whole lot about him that I would change. His desire to try new foods could be a little bit better. If you are one of those moms who has a kid or kids who are super adventurous in their dietary habits, please do not comment. Because ~~you might have a raving wenchbag at your doorstep after I read your comment~~ I will be very unhappy with you.

I also have always wished he was a bit of a better sleeper than he is. But since he started school, I must admit that his earlier rising is actually advantageous to us. He is up in plenty of time to eat his breakfast, get dressed, brush teeth, etc etc without us having to rush around like lunatics to get him out the door on time. But the weekends still come and then it can be a bit of a bummer. Until recently. . .

Because guess what? (Can you tell I'm gearing up here? Can you tell I'm totally excited? Can you tell I'm ready to sing Broadway tunes from my rooftop because I'm so ecstatic? Can you tell I'm really just a little bit crazy in the head now? Yes. Me too. Don't worry. I'm not all that dangerous. ~~Unless you comment on your child's wonderful eating habits. Then I might kill you.~~) So anyway, guess WHAT?!?!?!?

Joshua has discovered the joys of being downstairs all by himself on the weekend mornings.

LET THE CELEBRATIONS BEGIN!!!!!

He now asks, no BEGS me every Friday night, "Mommy, can you and Daddy sleep in both days so I can be downstairs by myself?" And I practically have to pinch myself while I look at him seriously. I don't want him to see how absolutely giddy I am that he is requesting this. So I continue to look at him seriously for a moment as though I am considering NOT letting him do this. Because, Oh dear god, please don't ever let him catch on, I don't want to tip him off. And then, after a few deep breathing exercises, I say as calmly as possible, "Well. I suppose that would be OK." I try to look a bit disappointed. But not TOO disappointed, because then he will change his mind. And then I kiss him goodnight, walk out of his room telling him I love him, shut his door. . .

AND THEN DO THE MAJOR WHITE GIRL HAPPY DANCE!!!!!!

And so is this post utterly ridiculous? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Because I slept in this morning. And I'm sleeping in tomorrow too. Bliss.

Happy Day, folks!

Mom's Bucket List Item #27 - Get Arrested...CHECK!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 14:43:00 +0000

So yep. Mom's got the big C word. And as I keep saying, it totally sucks, right?
But if you also remember, I told you we were going to, as my mom says, "pull our big girl panties" on and start raising some hell with whatever time she has left, be it 5 minutes or 27.276 years. And the hell raising began yesterday when we went away for the night to Williamsburg.

We had the BEST time. I have never laughed so hard in all my life.

We got to the hotel, and my lovely husband, Jamey, surprised me by having flowers in our room when we arrived. Not just one bouquet. TWO. One for my mom, and one for me! Very thoughtful sweetie, and thank you again so much!

We stayed in the hotel room, and we just enjoyed chatting with each other and enjoying some time together without Joshua. It doesn't happen very often anymore. And right away we found something to be amused over.

And at this point, I must pause to warn you all. No one gets the humor between my mom and me. I mean, you all might find these mildly amusing. Hopefully at least amusing enough to get a chuckle out of you and interesting enough to finish reading this post. However, my mother and I found all the following incidents to be downright hysterical.

OK. That said, we were in our hotel for less than ten minutes when my mother had to go to the bathroom. And for whatever reason, the toilets in this hotel are like the ones on cruise ships. If you've ever been on a cruise ship, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you don't, please go book a cruise so you can experience it first hand. But for those of you who can't wait, I will say that you need to stand back from the toilet lest it suck you down into it - because the force of the flush is so strong you swear that is exactly what will happen if you don't jump back immediately. And my mom, being Weezie, found this highly amusing. And so she yelled out at me, "Help, Carolyn!!!" And I laughed. And then we proceeded to try to outdo each other with every flush after that. My favorite was this morning when she called out, "Hey, Carolyn?" And she flushed just as I said, "Yeah?" And then I heard:

Nothing.

And I laughed so hard.

So after we hang out and chat and just enjoy each other's company, we go to dinner. And yes, there was a little bit of wine that was had. However, that is not a requirement for us to be goofy together. We had dinner at a pretty swanky restaurant. The waiters were all in tuxedos and everything. Mom and I had more good conversation. And we joked around a lot and acted silly and all that stuff. And things were fine until the dessert menu came around. And one of the items offered was pecan pie. And the description said that there was a secret ingredient in the pie, and it kind of dared you to try to figure out what it was. And the waiter came over, and of course my mom asked him what the secret ingredient was because she's really not very patient that way. And the waiter said he didn't know and then we told him we needed a few more minutes.

So he walks away, and mom and I are sitting there discussing what to get and all of a sudden I look at her seriously and say, "I bet I know what the secret ingredient is." And she's all, "What is it?" And so I look at her and smile and say, "I bet it's pot." And she almost falls out of her chair, and I am laughing and snorting. So the waiter comes back over, and I know he's waiting for me to order, but I just HAVE to say it. So I tell him that I think the secret ingredient is pot. And the waiter has to walk away from the table three times before he can regain his composure enough to speak. So of course, mom orders a piece of pecan pie to go. (Mom, we totally should have ordered, like, 10 whole pies. And asked for two forks and some napkins, to go...) I get a dessert, but I want something with ice cream (cos DUH), and so of course we have to wait.

The waiter goes back to the kitchen and as he leaves, mom and I are still cracking up over the whole pot comment. I tell her that I bet he is back in the back telling all the kitchen staff about it. And sure enough a minute or two later, I start seeing heads pop out from the kitchen. And mom and I laugh even harder. And then the manager comes into our area, and you know the waiter told her, and I bet she misunderstood and thought we actually had pot, and, of course, since mom and I are laughing so hard, and I'm wolfing down what must have been the biggest dessert they had, I can see why she maybe thought that.

But the fun didn't stop there. While we were waiting for the check, mom decides to go to the restroom. And she comes back and she looks at me, and without missing a beat, she says, "Well. The man in the restroom was VERY rude." And so by the time the waiter gets there, I'm crying into my napkin, and my mom tells HIM that, and I think he really just didn't even know what to do with us at that point. However, mom and I found the whole thing VERY amusing. We both have tears pouring down our faces and my napkin is all wet from the tears I've already wiped off. It was awesome. I'm pretty sure we won't be welcomed back there. Except by Eric the waiter, because even though he wasn't sure how to handle us, he liked us. I think.

Then we stop by a drug store, because I need some NyQuil because I still have a snotty head. We get the NyQuil and get to the hotel room and I joke about needing to take it after I've gotten in the bed so I can fall right asleep since it usually hits me like a ton of bricks. My mom's also decided she needs some, and so she's trying to open the bottle. I don't remember all the jokes we made about the NyQuil, but of course because it was me and my mom, we found everything about the NyQuil highly funny.

But the best part was when she says, "Oh no. We can't take this now." And I ask, "Why not?" And she looks at me and says, "It says you shouldn't take it if the seal is broken." And I look down and she's dropped the plastic seal on the floor. And I pick it up and put it up to her real close and say to her like she's four years old, "DID YOU DO THIS?" And she immediately starts laughing, and I say again, "DID YOU DO THIS????" And we collapse into fits of giggles.

I could go on. But at this point, I know you are all thinking - these two women have lost their minds. And possibly thinking - oh my goodness. I am so glad I was not in Williamsburg while they were there. Or maybe you've stopped reading by now because you just don't get it. And THAT'S THE POINT.

Of course all of this is not translating to how funny it really was. And of course all of you are probably also thinking, "Oh my, Carolyn's mom's illness has really gotten to her. I think she's having some mental problems now." It just makes me laugh even harder, because I think - no, I know - that's what my dad and Jamey think every time they see mom and me together! And what makes it even funnier than THAT, is that my mom will read this, and she will totally get it, and she will also be laughing. And NONE OF YOU WILL GET IT. AWESOME.

Happy Day, folks!

PS - She didn't really get arrested. We just posted on Facebook that it was on her bucket list. Then we made jokes about the view from jail and stuff. But people totally believed it. And that made us laugh even more. Because in truth? If you hang out with my Weezie, you never know. It could totally happen!

Time to Pull Up My "Big Girl" Panties!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 20:59:00 +0000

OK. So you now know that my mom has pancreatic cancer. Total suckage, right?

Yes. Yes it is. But you know what I realized a bit after I wrote that? I realized that my mom is a great lady. A truly great example of what it means to be a good person, friend, mom, wife (and the list goes on and on. . .) And she's right here.

My mom told her oncologist that she was going to "pull up her big girl panties", and do what she needs to do to live well with whatever time she has left. I think she will do that with as much dignity, fun and class she can possibly muster up. And good for her. So I'm going to as well. I might not have as much dignity or class, but I'll surely have some fun. Because sick or not, my mom is a hoot and a half to be around.

So we joke quite a bit about her prognosis. It makes it feel not quite so devastating. We joke about her upcoming treatments, her hair falling out (I told her she should get a really long haired wig, because how much fun would it be to swing that around at 70 something? Maybe even blond!), her lack of appetite. . .all of it. Because what else can you really do?

That all said, I may still have sad posts on here from time to time. I will update about my mom and her condition whenever I feel like it. It may be not so much, or it may be every day. But I hope when I look back, most of my posts are funny and joyous in sentiment. Because that's how I want her time to be.

So mom? It's time to RAISE SOME HELL!!!! WOOT WOOT!!!!!

HAPPY DAY, FOLKS!!!! :)

Well This Is A SUCKY Post To Write - My Mom Is SICK.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 14:30:00 +0000

Like really, really sick.

As in, Cancer. The pancreatic kind.

I am sad. And angry. And overwhelmed.

It all started just after Christmas. She told me she was having some stomach pain and that she was going to the doctor. And really, all the details are kind of a blur, but the bottom line is we found out last week that she has pancreatic cancer. And they can't do surgery. And I need to write the "d" word. But I don't want to.

If any of you know me (and let's be honest, a lot of you do), you know this is very, very bad. I love my mom so much it hurts sometimes. She is my best friend apart from my BFF, Yvette. We do lots of things together. I talk on the phone with her almost every day.

And so this whole thing has really sucked.

So to put it out there, since they can't do surgery, they've given her a lovely window. 5-9 months. Isn't that horrible? I hate to see it even written down like that. I'm going to write it again and scratch it out: ~~5-9 months~~. There. That feels better.

So I'm sad. I know I said that already, but it needs to be said again. And again and again.

And you know what? Through all this, my mom, in typical "Weezie" fashion, is a champ. She is joking and laughing, and crying just a little teeny bit, but laughing through the tears even as they fall. We've talked about the details of what she wants. Like in the end, and after. And it's hard, but good all at the same time.

I don't know that I can write any more about this today. But I wanted to put it out there. My mommy is dying. And she will take a little piece of me with her. I just hope she comes back and haunts the hell out of me. Because I love her.

(Not such a) Happy Day, folks. . .

Quick Blog - Can You Say Yum???

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 23:01:00 +0000

So, I know everybody who blogs seems to have a blog about something specific. You know - cooking blogs. Writing blogs. Crafting blogs. Home improvement blogs. This list could go on and on. And then there's - my blog. The blog that's about. . .well. . . nothing really except for whatever weird crap falls out of my brain when I write a post. But oh well. Instead, I'll call it a well rounded blog. It's got a little bit of everything.

Today my blog is a cooking blog. Remember that last month, I had a "crafting blog". I have to use that term loosely. Because let's face it, it was a kind of sad craft attempt. But still it's the effort and thought that counts, right?

So this cooking post is on about the same caliber as my craft post. However, I still find it worth putting out there because it's so yummy. Are you ready?

This is my new most favorite breakfast in the world. Seriously.

MOUNDS OATMEAL

Uh-huh. It's like a candy bar in my breakfast mug.

Here's the easy peasy ingredients and directions (because almost nothing I cook is difficult. Just sayin'.)

Ingredients:

1/2 cup quick cook oats
1 cup water
Dash of salt
1 HEAPING teaspoon dark chocolate (sometimes called dutch processed) cocoa powder
1 rounded tablespoon of sweetened shredded coconut
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons sugar

(And if you wanted to make an "Almond Joy Oatmeal", you could either add some almond extract (to keep calorie count the same) or you could add some sliced almonds.)

The directions couldn't be more simple. Take your first three ingredients and cook it in the microwave for 1 minute 30 seconds. Then add all other ingredients once it's cooked. Like this:

Stir it all up. It will look like this:

And then, of course, you eat! And enjoy! And lick the bowl as long as no one is looking! Or, if you are like me, maybe give them the finger, and then lick the bowl. :)

Happy Day, folks!

I Have No Idea What To Title This As. Just Read It. Then Make Suggestions. Thx.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 20:54:00 +0000

This is a short, but rather necessary post.

I discovered, a while back, a lovely little feature on my blog site that I can look to see how people came to find my blog. So for instance, if you were doing a search on "family blogs", you might see mine pop up along with 80 million other blogs. If you click on my blog, it will take you to my blog, and then your key word search will also show up in my blog. Make sense? Maybe not, but I'm not going to try to explain it further because I'm ~~just lazy that way~~ getting ready to go get my kid off the school bus in just a little while.

I've had an increase in traffic (Yay! And thank you!), and so I was curious about how people were finding me. And I noticed a couple of, um. . .unusual searches people were doing to get to my blog.

There were two for "ransom notes". Right. So I know how people came to my blog site. It was about the time that someone had stolen my mojo. Remember that? Right. OK, but that is not the important question. The question that begs to be asked (and answered) is: why are people searching out "ransom notes"? Are they wanting to draft one for some evil purpose? Good grief, I surely hope not. So if you were one of the ones researching ransom notes - SHAME ON YOU. Unless it was for a gag. Then - WAY TO GO!!!!

Then I also noticed one for "ransom note letters". I am guessing that one of the two people looking for "ransom notes" didn't feel satisfied enough and had to go back and search for that. And obviously, they are not all that intelligent, because they forgot they'd already clicked on my blog once, right? (And if you are that person, and your ransom note is for evil purposes, I'm REALLY sorry I just said that. Really.)

And then I can do nothing else but assume that yet another person who is related to the person who was doing the searches for "ransom notes" and "ransom note letters" did the next search. It was:

WITTY CHRISTMAS WISHES FOR A PERSON IN JAIL

*******

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!! Happy Day folks!

New Year's Resolutions from 2011 - This Is Precisely Why I'm Not Doing 2012 Resolutions

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 16:27:00 +0000

Yep. So I made a big list of resolutions for 2011. I also kept track of the dates of when I broke the resolutions so I could see how many I kept. I think the record speaks for itself when I say that I should never try to do any New Year's Resolutions. Ever.

New Year's Resolutions (I Am SOOO Good At Keeping These)

I, Carolyn, will now make my resolutions for the year 2011. . .

I resolve -

to go to the doctor when I'm sick. Broken 1/18/11

to be nice to Quincy and not call him a vile filthy mongrel anymore, even though he is. Broken 1/1/11

to always remember to write thank you notes as well as to always respond promptly to party invitations. Broken 5/2/11

to completely organize my entire house. I will have a place for everything. I will always remember to put things back exactly where they are. To further that effort, I resolve

to get one of those little label maker thingies. (I've always secretly wanted one, but I really just look at it as a toy.) Broken 12/31/11 (Never did get one even though I had a whole year? SAD.)
to cut carbs completely out of my diet. Broken 1/1/11

to go to the gym five days a week. Broken 1/7/11

to pay attention to all the latest fashion trends and start buying stylish clothes. I will stop wearing my Doc Martins because they are out of style. I will also stop wearing birth control outfits. You know what I'm talking about? I have one on today. But no more! Broken 1/3/11

to purchase a lovely designer handbag. (grrrrrrrr) KEPT IT!

to write a best selling book and have it published within the year. Broken 12/31/11 :(
to always prepare and serve my family a nutritious meal made with a loving and gentle heart. And to stop serving them breakfast for dinner once a week because it's cheap and easy. Broken 1/7/11

to always share my chocolate, my ice cream, and any other treat I get with my son and stop hoarding all the good stuff. Broken 1/2/11

to always admit to him when his MiMi and PaPa sent him that chocolate, or that cake, or that cookie and not pretend that they gave it to me. Broken 1/19/11 Don't. Judge. Me.
to not get the stomach flu even though I have a four year old who will almost certainly bring it home with him from preschool. MIRACULOUSLY KEPT IT. (Might have to keep this one after all. Maybe that was what kept me from getting it???)
to never second guess my husband and not try to tell him how to handle our son. Broken 1/2/11

to get up every morning as soon as my son calls out and always let my husband sleep in instead of pretending I can't hear said son calling out. Broken 1/1/11 (but in my defense I was trying to wake up with a dose of Nyquil in me)

to always let my husband have the pick of what we watch on TV. Broken 1/2/11 (We started to watch Polar Express with Jman who was scared of it, and I wanted to finish watching it. Then I made him watch the end of Enchanted. HA HA HA HA!!)

to wear my tiara everywhere and only be addressed as Her Royal Highness, Princess Carolyn. If you do not address me as such, I will not answer. (Sigh. I wish I could make that one be true.) Broken 1/1/11. Sigh.

to remember not to look like an idiot when running races this year. I will have long hair, pulled back in a chic pony tail, and I will smile serenely at any Brightroom photographer I pass this year. Broken 11/12/11 See here for proof.
to learn how to decorate my home so that it no longer looks like we live in a nursing home. Broken 12/31/11 It's as bad as my BC outfits. . .
to dust the house at least twice this year. Broken 12/31/11 In my defense, dusting is BORING.
to stop looking at the vacuum cleaner as though I think it must be some kind of home improvement tool and make my husband use it because I don't understand how it works. Broken 1/2/11

to not have my son sit in front of the TV all day for a whole week so that mommy can work on the computer when I am really writing my book. (oopsie.) Broken 4/11/11

to keep up with the laundry in almost an OCD fashion instead of letting it pile up so high that we have to have a jammie day in the middle of the week. Because I now know it is embarrassing for my husband and son to show up at work and school that way. Broken 1/15/11

So let's see. I had a total of 23 resolutions. Aaaaaaannnnnnd, I kept - 2. OK then.

Happy Day, folks!

Thank Goodness My Husband Doesn't Read My Blog. . .

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 20:23:00 +0000

You know, it used to kind of offend me that my husband wasn't all that interested in reading my blog. I'd be all like, "WHY doesn't he take an interest in this? I LIKE this, and it's about ME, and shouldn't he be INTERESTED in ME and WHAT I LIKE?!?!?!?"

But. . .

1. He is interested and reads it whenever he can. However, he is usually tied up in actually working crazy amounts to try and provide for us so that I can stay home and be here for our son. And that means much more to me than him reading my blog. Plus, it's really me. I can't help it if I find it offensive that he his not hitting his refresh button every 30 seconds to see if I've written anything else. Also -

2. Now I realize that I can totally confess stuff on here and he'll never know! Unless one of my followers who know both of us told him about the stuff I confess. But you wouldn't do that to me. Right? (I so hope all of you are nodding in agreement right now, cos here goes. . .)

I took our dishwasher apart today.

Uh-huh. I surely did.

So we moved into this house almost 4 years ago (sidebar - WOW! Time flies!) And the dishwasher has never really washed dishes all that well. And it just got worse the longer we lived here. Occasionally, I'd ask my very handy husband if he could take a look at it.

OK, hold on a second.

Disclaimer time - Lest you all think what he's about to respond with is mean and how he must be a real jerk, I must say, that he's totally not. He's a pretty great guy. I would also bet that almost every husband who has a wife and a dishwasher would say the same thing.

OK, back to the story.

So my handy husband would respond, "Well I'll make a deal with you. You stop putting the dishes in without rinsing them, and I'll look at the dishwasher." At which point I'd get irritated because I DO rinse the dishes if they are gross. I don't put them on with lots of food on them. But yes, occasionally, they might not be totally rinsed off. However, what person cleans their dishes to put them in the dishwasher? (If you do, please refrain from commenting on this blog post. Because, 1. You will totally throw me under the bus with my husband. And 2. There is something completely wrong with you and I will call the police and have you arrested for stalking. Or OCD behavior. Or something. . .)

So this same conversation would take place every couple of months.

And yesterday was my breaking point.

Because I could see the gunk all built up in the bottom of the dishwasher. In the part that you have to take apart to get to. And I knew that was abnormal. It looked totally gross. I would have taken a picture for all of you to see, but I didn't want you to be disgusted by the picture and never visit my blog again.

So this morning, shortly after my lovely husband left for work, I tried running a short cycle with vinegar and baking soda to get it all cleaned out. No dice. Nope. It was going to have to come apart.

So I went online and found a wonderful website that showed me how to take it apart. I would tell you what it was, but I've already deleted it out of history so Jamey won't know what I was up to while he was at work. Oopsie. Did I just admit that?

Yep, so anyway, I proceeded to dismantle my entire dishwasher. And when I got the last screw off that held the filter top thingie in place. . .well let's just say I didn't feel so good. It was so gross. And I started cleaning it out and that's when I knew that the people who lived here before me? They NEVER scraped their dishes. Not ONCE. And in fact, they liked to just put EVERYTHING in the dishwasher. Because I found glass. I found stickers. I found pins. And the "piece de resistance" (please say that with a French accent)? CHICKEN BONES. WHOLE CHICKEN BONES. And THAT, my friends, is NOT normal.

So I got it allllllll, cleaned out, including sucking out the water that stayed standing in the bottom of it because it was so clogged up with CRAP. I had to get that out with a turkey baster. Uh huh. It took forEVER.

But I just ran another cycle of dishes through and guess what? MUCH better.

I'm so proud of myself!

Unless it breaks. And then, I don't know how that happened. And if Jamey finds this post and it breaks? Then someone hacked my blog and wrote this.

And again - I have an AWESOME husband. (That part, I TOTALLY wrote.)

Happy Day folks!

PS - I suppose it also doesn't help that I talked about this on Facebook.

PPS - What if those weren't chicken bones after all?

Well Holy Crap. . .I Actually Made - A CRAFT!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 17:47:00 +0000

Every year Joshua wants me to re-create the same construction paper/cotton ball Santa's beard advent calendar that he had when he was in the one-year old class at his preschool. Yes. You heard me correctly. The ONE-YEAR OLD CLASS (How does he remember this stuff?!?!?! Seriously!!!)

And every year I remake it as best I can. And it's kind of a pain, really, but he so looks forward to having it that I can't say no. I'm such a sucker.

So as he reminded me the other day, it's getting close time to make the calendar. And I got to thinking, wouldn't it be nice if I could make just ONE more, and then use it year after year? (Except that now that I've actually made one that will be reusable year after year, he's going to say he's too big for it. And then I will ~~ask Santa to put coal and switches in his stocking~~ ~~cry a lot and tell him how I sustained third degree burns from using the hot glue gun and we are putting it up anyway, and by gosh he WILL like it~~ smile serenely and put it in my bedroom and do it myself.)

Wow. OK, so back to my spectacular craftiness. Which isn't really all that spectacular, but it was the best I could do. If someone actually thinks it's a good idea, I'm sure they'll copycat it, make it totally super cute, post a picture somewhere and then theirs instead of mine will be pinned like 90 million times. And I'll only be ~~completely~~ a little bitter.

So I headed to the craft store and looked around. I used felt, but now I wonder if that foamy board stuff might have worked a bit better. Take that for what it's worth. I took pictures of how I basically made it, but since I don't normally "craft", I am missing a bunch of steps and I left all kinds of stuff out. But it's not rocket science, folks. I made it.

So the first thing you want to do is buy your supplies. Here's my picture:

The supply list is:

Felt -

1 Red
1 White
1 Pink
2 Green - One of these was a "stiffer" felt.

Some sort of "wire"ribbon
Hot glue gun
Puffy Paint in black and red
Those little puff thingies (100 count white ones - not too big, not too little.)
Velcro - (I bought squares of them and cut them to the size I needed.)
Stapler
Hole Punch
Black fine tip magic marker

I think that's it. As you can tell by my descriptions of things, I definitely lack a craft gene. It really is a miracle I made this at all.

OK. So I used the "stiff" green felt for the backing. Then I cut out a piece of red felt and glued it to the backing like this:

Then I cut out a pink piece shaped like this for the face and glued it on:

Then I cut out a white piece for his beard and glued it on top of the pink:

Then I cut out a little red mouth and a hat shape, as well as a pink nose and glued those on:

After that, I started gluing on the white puffy things. I glued on enough for his hat trim, his hair, his mustache and the start of the beard:

Then I took the Velcro and trimmed them into small pieces. Twenty-four to be exact. I took the rough piece and stuck it to 24 of the puffy things:

Then I placed them on the rest of the beard and spaced them so I'd have the placement nice for the rest of the beard. I'd pick one up and stick the soft side of the Velcro to the white felt:

After that was done, I took my fine tip magic marker and wrote out all the numbers:

I took my second piece of felt and cut a strip about 3 inches wide and stapled it to the top, leaving a gap so that it made a sleeve where I could slide a dowel rod (or something else) through. I hot glued the top pieces together. I made little ribbons out of the wire ribbon and glued them on top of the staples. I'd have taken pictures of all this part, but ~~I got too lazy~~ I forgot.

Then I decided I needed a pocket to hold all the little puffy things till we were ready to use them. I took the rest of the felt and folded it in half and stapled the sides shut. And then I hot glued puffy things along the sides to hide the staples:

I made black puffy paint eyes, and I puffy painted "Christmas Countdown!" on the pocket.

I then slid the dowel through and wrapped it with the wire ribbon to make the hanger.

Then, with my hole punch I punched holes in the top sides of the pockets and at the bottom of the calendar. I took my wire ribbon and strung it through so that the pocket is now hanging down from the bottom of the calendar. And here is the finished product!

The one thing I regret is not having Joshua help me. I wished I had, because it would have made it more special. But frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. 'Nuff said on that.

Also, if you are someone reading this who has a craft product and you want me to test it out, I will forwarn you. I am NOT crafty. And you may regret asking me to try your product. Just sayin'.

And one more thing. I know I did not do a great job at explaining the steps here, and I more than likely (well no. I'm sure I did) left a bunch of steps out. So if you have questions, feel free to ask. Unless you think it's ugly, in which case you are not nice to make fun of craft challenged people like me and you should really ~~kiss my ass~~ be ashamed of yourself for making fun of a normally uncrafty gal who's trying to make her little boy happy.

Happy Day, folks!

MARATHON! I DID IT! And. . .Dear God, Please Don't Let Me Look Like An Idiot In My Race Picutres (like I usually do). Thx.

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 21:27:00 +0000

Well if you have been wondering where I've been the last month. . .

I have been running (sorry mom) my ass off. Seriously. It's not there anymore. OK, well it is, but it is smaller than it was.

If you remember, back in June, I told you all I had signed up for the marathon. And I've been training. And training. And the miles have been getting longer. And longer. Our longest run was a 20 mile run. That's far.

But not 26.2 miles. Which is what we all did Saturday. And let me tell you. Your race doesn't even begin until you finish that first 20. The last 6.2? That's where the race starts.

Oh yes, my friends. THAT is where it starts.

So Saturday November 12, I woke up at o'dark thirty. I had been downing Vitamin C like it was ~~crack~~ candy since I had to substitute teach a bunch of ~~germy~~ darling preschoolers. (I do really love them all. They are great kids. But let's face it. Preschoolers at this time of year? Germfest.) But I digress. . .I got up with Jamey and we left the house at about 5:45am. For a race that started at - 8am. Why you ask? I'll tell you. Whether you wanted to know or not. It was because, I being the paranoid freak that I am, was afraid we wouldn't get a parking spot.

So we got downtown and Jamey drove past all the shmucks who were paying for parking and drove right underneath his building where parking was free and no one knew about it. It was awesome. We had decided to use his office as a warm and cozy place to hang out until race time. And I must say, it was quite lovely! My friends, Kara and Polly, got there shortly after, and we all hung out. I ate my ritual of a toasted peanut butter pita pocket, got to use a real bathroom instead of a port a potty, and before I knew it, it was time to go up to the start.

My friends and I all walked up and stood around in the cold for about 5 minutes and then we were off and running! I have to say, for the first 7-8 miles, I thought if I could stay feeling the way I was feeling then, I'd have a stellar day.

And I must remind you that I had a few goals for this marathon.

1. I did not want to stop and walk. I wanted to run the whole way and not bonk.
2. I wanted to get anything under a 4:45. If I could get under 4:30, I'd go crazy at the finish.
3. I did not want to look like a raving lunatic in my race photos this time.

Rule three was pretty much broken right away, unfortunately. See we were rounding a corner, and there was a band playing, and it was early on, and I was all hyped up. And so unfortunately, I believe a photographer caught me in my "old form". You know. The one where I'm not running with a super cute pony tail and smiling serenely for the camera? Right. The other one is how he caught me. Where I'm waving my hands all around and screaming and looking at the camera with a crazed look on my face. Sigh. I will post my pictures when they come out to show you.

And so my second rule - I had amended it during training. See if you remember, Jamey ran the marathon last year. And he didn't have his very best day, truth be told. I'm still totally proud of him, but he made a fatal mistake. Because my pace has been very consistent through all my training. And it put me within striking distance of his time from last year, which was a 4:13:35. So I had made it my extra super secret goal - to beat him.

I knew it would only be possible if 1. I were having a stellar day, and 2. if someone ran me in. And who better to run me in than the person I was trying to beat, right? Uh-huh. And he didn't know about my goal.

So I was running. Felt great, and ended up losing my lovely friends I had trained with around mile 7.5. We knew it was a possibility and had made the deal that we would all run our own race. And I knew if I waited for them, I wouldn't make my goal. So when one of them stepped to the side to go to the bathroom, I kept going.

And I still felt great. I ran along and grabbed a handful of pretzels that someone was handing out (THANK YOU, to whoever you are - they were delicious!), and kept on and kept on. And then somewhere around mile 15 or so, I started feeling. . .not as great.

If you are a marathoner, then you know (and some of you who aren't may still know) that this is not good. Because "the wall", the point you hit and start to get tired and worn out, isn't until mile 20. They literally call that "the wall". Yep. And I hit it at 15. But I kept running. Because I knew in about 3 more miles, I'd meet up with Jamey. And maybe he could help me out.

I actually sped up and ran to find him. And when I did, I was worn out. I was hurting. He asked how I was. I said I was doing crappy or something like that. And he asked what he could do. So I said, "Talk. Just talk. I might not say anything back, but I just need you to talk to me." You know. To get my mind off the fact that I wanted to lay down on the lovely black asphalt and die. Quickly.

And so he talked. I would like to tell you a lot of what he said, but honestly? I am not even sure. I know I listened. I remember nodding a lot. And saying "yes". And not much else. The sad part for him is, he could have asked me if he could buy a brand new Porsche that day, and I'd have said "yes". So actually, I guess I better not be surprised if one shows up in my driveway.

I was tired. My legs were cramping. I wanted to stop so very badly at mile 25. And at that point, I knew that whether Jamey was there or not, I had to keep going, because I would never forgive myself for being so close and stopping. So I slowed down. WAY down. It was the only mile I went out of the 9's and I clocked a 10:17 mile. And finally at one point, I looked over at Jamey, my wonderful, gorgeous husband, and said, "STOP TALKING." He was like "Got it." And he did stop talking. Which was good because otherwise I might have ~~upchucked on him and then killed him with my bare hands~~ been very angry.

But then God smiled down on me. Because shortly after that, we turned a corner. And I could see it. The FINISH LINE.

And Jamey started screaming at me, "RUN! RUN CAROLYN!!!!" And I screamed back, "I love you!" And I took off! And I ran for all it was worth and crossed the line! I looked down at my watch, and I had. . .

DONE IT!!! I BEAT JAMEY'S TIME!!!! My watch said 4:12:48. Later the chip time - which is the "official" time, said I completed the race in 4:12:35. I had beaten my lovely husband by exactly one minute.

He's super proud of me too.

I must say a special thanks to a nameless medic who helped me out after I stopped. Because after I stopped, I was very woozy. He came right up to me and asked if I needed assistance. And I couldn't even talk. I just nodded, and he grabbed me firmly by the shoulders as I wavered around a little bit. He put one of those lovely foil blankets around me and then I put the death grips on his hands because I was afraid he was going to let go of me and I would keel right over in the finish area.

Then he said, "Let's go get you a medal." And I nodded and he walked me over (still holding on to me), and as the other man put that beautiful medal around my neck, I leaned against both of them. And sobbed.

I was in a lot of pain. But it was totally worth it. Happy Day, my friends.

PS - Brightroom just posted their pictures. In a word? Sigh. But I did promise to post them. They even have a video of my finish. See them here.

PPS - Someone else took a picture of me where I actually kind of look like a badass. I like it much better.

Well CRAP. My Son Now Knows Chuck E. Cheese Is NOT a "Grown Up Restaurant".

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 19:54:00 +0000

Thanks to my neighbor, Angela, who's son had his birthday party there.

And yes. I totally lied to Joshua about it. He asked me once when we were driving by what Chuck E. Cheese was. And I was all, like, "Oh that? It's a restaurant. For grownups." And he was all like, "Oh." End of story. So I thought.

A few months ago, he asked me why PBS was sponsored by Chuck E. Cheese. And why it always said, "Where a kid can be a kid." It caught me off guard. So I said it was a really lame advertising campaign. Then I told him to go play. And since Joshua doesn't even know what an advertising campaign is, he did, in fact, go play and dropped it. Safe again.

Then we get the invitation to the party.

And I'm all like, "WHAT? That's odd. I guess I was wrong. I guess kids can go there." And Joshua asks, "Can I go?" I am thinking as fast as I can, but since the invitation caught me off guard, I can't come up with anything. So I'm all like, "Uh, yeah. Sure." Then I walk into the kitchen to ~~beat my head against the wall and sob~~ make myself a cup of coffee.

The day comes and we go, and of course he loves it. And I'm commiserating with other moms about being there when another friend, Brenna tells me my next wonderful excuse not to frequent Chuck E. Cheese every single weekend. She tells her own son that Chuck E. Cheese is only open for birthday parties. Perfect. Thank you Brenna - problem solved!

And so guess where Joshua wants his next birthday party?

I leave you with the following - I posted it on Facebook. Along with an update a couple of hours later:

Police are looking for two suspects who are currently driving a mini car containing thousands of coins and tickets. The worth of the coins and tickets are estimated to be a whopping $2.24, and redeemable only in one place, so motive is quite unclear. . .

The update:

Suspects still being sought after. Owners of coins and tickets said to be, "very perplexed" over theft. Owners indicated that original amount of worth was exaggerated and that said coins and tickets are only worth about 62 cents. Police are truly stumped at motive behind the theft...

I Have NO WillPower. Please Help Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 18:17:00 +0000

So if you remember, I have been training for a marathon, right? Training has gone really well, and I'm on the cusp of my last super long run before the actual race. It's a 20 miler on Saturday.
In light of training for a marathon, I decided it was also time to shed a few pounds. I'd gotten away with eating what I wanted for a long time without worrying about it, but when we got back from Disney World and I looked at the pictures of myself, I just thought. . .well, frankly I just thought. EW. That's gross. And doughy looking.

So I started watching what I ate and stuff and I'm excited because I have managed to lose a bit of weight. Cool, right? It is really cool. I've been feeling much better.

And then, with one little Facebook post, my entire world changed. And I'm in danger. SERIOUS danger.

Because of THESE:

Yes, these naughty LIMITED EDITION PUMPKIN PIE POPTARTS.

I first heard of them last year. However, I thought they were a myth. I never saw them in the grocery store. So I figured I had heard wrong, and went about my happy life.

Then this year, I heard about them again. From a post on Facebook. Surely that was still just a myth, right? A fable? And all of a sudden, I was scared. I had to go to the grocery store the very next day. So I said a little prayer to God asking him to not have them in my store. And bless me he did, for when I went the next day, they were not there! I was SAVED! And I said as much on Facebook.

And then my "friend", Jana, had to go and tell me that if I had, in fact, TURNED AROUND and looked across from where the regular poptart selection is, they had a WHOLE SECTION DEDICATED TO LIMITED EDITION HOLIDAY POPTARTS.

OH. MY. GOD.

It is unfair.

I tried to resist. I didn't go back to the store.

Until today. And I had to do it. I couldn't help it. I walked down the aisle where the poptarts were, and I swear I tried to avoid making eye contact. I really did. I looked to my left the whole time where the regular poptarts resided. But then it happened. I turned to my right. AND THERE THEY WERE.

I tried to justify it, and say they were for my little boy. But I am not fooling anyone. And now they are at home. And we are locked in a brutal, take no prisoner style staring contest. Me and the Poptart box. And I think I'm losing.

See?

I swear I don't know how the box got open. I think maybe Quincy developed opposable thumbs while I wasn't looking. And somehow, a package of the poptarts fell out onto the table. And now they are playing the staring game with me. . .

Uh oh. Losing again.

Oh gosh. Did that bag just open by itself? I think the box of poptarts is haunted.

I'm just going to smell one.

Yep. Smells good. Had to bite my lip to try not to take a bite.

No. I'm not going to do this.

See? I'm keeping my lips shut tight! NO WAY. I'M NOT CAVING.

OK. Maybe a teeeeeeeny bite.

See how little a bite that is?

Setting it down. Let the staredown begin again. I'm TOTALLY going to win this.

Sigh. It won.

Happy Doughy Day, Folks!

PS - In case you were wondering, from the moment the box came into the house to that last picture was a duration of 37.2 seconds. Yup. 37.2 seconds. . .

PPS - In order to protect the ~~guilty~~ innocent, I will not be posting a picture of how many packages are left in the poptart box after 37.2 seconds.

This is How I Amuse Myself

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 16:11:00 +0000

So I have an eye appointment today. And I had to fill out my paperwork online. The following are some of the questions and my actual answers. It just lets me know if they are really reading the information that we provide them. Plus, I just like to amuse myself, because filling out forms can be excrutiatingly boring. . .

********

Requested: Routine Exam, 09/16/2011

For: To help Roxann make some money. And to get my eyes checked.
Comments: Roxann, you better not be late, because I have to be home to get my little boy off the school bus. If I'm late, I'm bringing him straight to your house and you can deal with the stress and anxiety while I go to Starbucks. Or a bar. And I don't know when I'll be back. Maybe by Tuesday.

Date Sent: 09/15/2011 1:08:41pm

Name: Mrs. Carolyn Y. Davidson

Nickname: "HRH Princess Carolyn"

Occupation/Grade: Domestic Goddess and Honest to Gosh Princess

Employer: Joshua

How did you find us? Friend or Relative, Referred by: My crazy father and mom Don and Louise Y. (need I say more?)

Last Eye Exam: Look at my chart and it will tell you.

Do you have any allergies to medications? Yes. Allergic to: SEVERE CT Dye allergy. Don't ever give me that or I'll die. Then I will proceed to haunt you forever for doing that.

Further explanation or more conditions: Itching and if I don't stay on allergy medicine, my eyes swell up, sometimes particularly after I eat. They look TERRIBLE.

I also have exercise induced asthma, so my parents don't think I should ever exercise again. I'm ignoring this bit of advice from them. Otherwise, I'd be as big as a house. . .

I didn't put any pyschiatric problems,although I think others would say that's debatable. Especially all the other voices in my head right now.

********

See? Makes for much more interesting reading for my health care team.

Happy Day folks!

I do! I don't! I do! I don't!

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 22:12:00 +0000

So, I have been avoiding writing this post. Because if I avoid it, maybe it won't happen.

But I do want it to happen.

Don't I?

No. No I don't.

No wait. Yes I do.

OK, here's the deal -

Joshua is starting Kindergarten in less than two weeks.

Oh gosh. When I say it like that, I get all weirded out. My insides feel funny.

This is a much bigger adjustment than I thought.

I keep writing very, very short paragraphs. But maybe that's all I can manage now. . .

(Deep Breathing)

OK. I'm ~~sobbing like an idiot~~ better now. See, I never thought I'd be like this. This is probably a terrible thing to admit to. And I may have admitted this on my blog before, but if I haven't, and this is the first time you're hearing this, I just want to say one thing: DON'T. JUDGE. ME.

My admission is, after we first had Joshua, I wasn't all that enthused about being a mom. Please don't ask me to say that any louder. But - I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't think Joshua liked me very much, and to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about him. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd have laid my life down for him in a heartbeat, but those day to day feelings? When all he can do is sleep, eat, poop, or cry? And I felt like the sleep portion was really lacking on his (and therefore my) part ~~and I'm still bitter about that~~? Yeah. Like I said, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about him. And I can remember, particularly in those early days, specifically thinking that went along these lines, "Oh dear God, what in heaven's name am I going to do with this thing until he can go to school?"

Like I said. DON'T. JUDGE. ME.

I really thought that. With the "thing" in it and everything. And then, thank goodness, I felt things start to change around 6-7 months or so. And things were a bit better. And then at 10 1/2 months, shortly after he started walking, I remember it hit me like a lightning bolt. I remember it all VERY clearly. And I was like, "OH MY GOD I WAS MADE TO BE A MOMMY! I LOVE THIS!!! I WANT TWELVE MORE!!!" And thank goodness I didn't tell Jamey, because I can assure you, his head would have popped right off his body the second that came out of my mouth. And in the end, we only had the one.

But he is a gorgeous little one. He is my shadow. I spend a LOT of time with him. And I enjoy it. He is funny, and cute, and sometimes a pain, but overall, I really enjoy my son. And for that, I am blessed.

That said, although I especially love the beginning of every summer and all the fun stuff we do together, around mid-August, I get a bit antsy. And cranky. And I actually have looked a little bit forward to preschool starting up again. So I sort of assumed that I would feel the same when it came time to send him to Kindergarten.

And am I antsy? Yes.

Am I cranky? Yes. (Though Jamey probably doesn't feel like that is different from any other day.)

But the truth is, I am not sure I am ready for Joshua to start Kindergarten. I am now wondering if I should have held him back. For me. Because let's be really clear here. He is totally ready. So ready, in fact, that when we went for his conference last fall with his preschool teacher, Mrs. Jackson, the first words out of her mouth were, "Please tell me you aren't holding him back." And she just verbalized what I already knew. He was ready. Don't hold him back. We would be doing him a disservice if we did.

It really didn't hit me until the last week or two about how the school years are going to play out. He is going to be gone for a very LARGE portion of my day. Really. I am going to be by myself. I do have a couple of small jobs lined up, but they are only a couple of days a month. If I can't find any other work, what am I going to DO with myself all day long every day? It feels very real, and looming over my head. And I feel my anxiety starting to rise. Is the anxiety for him? Or for me? ~~Or is it the four other personalities I also have in this body arguing with each other again?~~

He is starting to say he doesn't want to go to school. I don't want him to go either. ~~But I do. But I don't. But I do. But I don't.~~ But I do want him to go. He is ready, and I know he'll be great. I just hope mommy will be too.

Happy day folks. . .

Let's Face It - The Following Website is Brilliant...

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 20:15:00 +0000

Why, you ask?

Let me show you some of their products.

I need one of these:

Totally Awesome Water Bottle

I need one because it is absolutely the truth.

I also want one of these:

Even Better Coffee Mug

Or seven. Because there are seven days in a week, after all. . .

And then I noticed they were having a sale on these:

These are really lovely mugs

You get six of these. So I don't know what I'd do on the seventh day. Maybe drink from this:

Truth Mug

Because we all know it's the truth.

I would get this one, but I have a five year old getting ready to start Kindergarten and he will be learning how to read.

"Why Does He Have to be Learning to Read?" Mug

If he were younger, I'd totally have it. Then I'd put it away till he became a teenager, because then I know he'll be using the word himself. But not around me, because I'll be royally peeved if he says it around me.

And in case you wonder, no, I am not getting paid to advertise for these guys. Though I wish I could get paid for it.

I loved the mugs so much, that I then went to look at their t-shirts and hoodies. I was afraid they would disappoint me. They did not.

I TOTALLY want one of these:

BEST. T-shirt.

And love this one too:

So True T-shirt

And this is a must have, even though it is a men's shirt:

My "I can't wait for the new muppet movie coming out" T-shirt

My grandmother should have had this T-shirt:

Sorry mom, for the language, but you know it's true T-shirt

I could go on and on. But I won't. I will say, I laughed harder at this site than I have in a long time. I don't even know what "The Onion Store" is all about. But they are just plain funny to me.

Enjoy shopping. I know I will!

Happy day folks!

PS - My birthday is mid-September. So if you are looking for gift ideas, look no further.

Oopsie - It's Been a While. And Have You Ever Heard of an Exploding Turkey Burger?

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 13:56:00 +0000

Sorry that I deserted you all. This summer has been particularly busy for some reason. Either that or I've been exceptionally lazy. That is probably the more likely answer.

And so since it's been very busy (because of course that option sounds much better), you'd think I have a lot to write about, right?

Not really.

But something did happen last night. My husband's turkey burger exploded.

Let me explain.

I decided to try a new recipe last night. It was called Mozzarella-Stuffed Italian Turkey Burgers. Essentially, you take some ground turkey, add stuff to it, and then form 8 very thin patties. Then you take four of the patties and lay a slice of mozzarella cheese on it. Then you take the other patty and "seal" it so that the mozzarella cheese doesn't leak out. Broil or grill them and enjoy, right?

So I follow the directions and make the burgers, and I must say, by the time they were broiling in the oven, I was quite pleased with myself. Because they were smelling pretty darn tasty. And Jamey gets home from work and, as he's changing, he asks what is for dinner. I tell him, and then have to explain why it's not ready because these burgers take a little longer to prepare and blah blah blah.

I finally finish up the rest of dinner, and I get his burger onto a bun (I ate mine sans bun), and set it on the table.

I turn to finish getting my plate together and I hear. . .

Well I won't say what I heard. Because let's face it. It wasn't very pretty.

And I turn around, and Jamey is wiping at his face and his arm and his shirt, and I was like "What's WRONG?"

And I look on his plate, and it looked like the burger had an accident of some sort.

And so he's all yelling, like, "THE BURGER EXPLODED!"

And I don't want to be outdone in the yelling department, so I'm all like, "WHAT?!?!?!"

And he yells louder, "THE BURGER EXPLODED AND I GOT TURKEY JUICE ALL OVER ME AND IT'S HOT AS (you know what) AND IT HURT!!!!!"

(I decide at this point that it would be in my best interest not to yell back anymore.) I put on my sweet, concerned voice and say, "Are you OK?"

And he looks at me, and says, "This meal is NOT off to a good start."

Like it's my fault. Really?

How the heck was I supposed to know that a turkey burger stuffed with cheese would explode when you took the first bite? Besides, mine didn't. Of course, that's because I was eating it with no bun, and cut into it VERY carefully after seeing the carnage on Jamey's plate.

So your lesson of the day is: If someone else made you a burger, always ask if the burgers are stuffed with cheese. Because if they are, they might explode.

Aren't you glad you know that now?

Happy day folks!

Old Rags and Tailors - Normal or Not Normal? THAT is the Question...

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 13:48:00 +0000

So a few days ago, I was texting back and forth with my friend Brenna. Which is sort of funny, because she lives right down the street from me and we were both home, but I suppose it seemed like too much trouble to pick up the phone and call each other. And why is that? Why do people prefer texting now? I don't get it, really, but I do the same thing as everybody else, and I don't really have a good answer for why I text over phoning. But - I digress.

I don't remember what the actual conversation was about. I meant to save it, but I don't like having a bunch of extra junk on my phone, and I deleted it by accident. And besides, you don't really have to know the whole gist of the conversation to get what it is I'm going to talk about. Eventually. When I get around to talking about it. Jeez, I'm long winded today.

ANYWAY.

At the end of the conversation, Brenna mentioned something about ignoring the piles of laundry she had in her house. (Which, of course, I think is quite smart, because who likes to do laundry when you can sit around watching movies with your kids and eat snacks all afternoon because it's a million degrees outside? In JUNE. The BEGINNING of JUNE. Does not bode well.) So she's saying she's going to ignore her laundry, and I texted her back something along the lines of this:

I don't blame you. I am pretending my laundry is just a pile of old rags. Because who folds up old rags anyway?

*******

I hit the send button. And I got nothing back from her.

And then it happened. I had one of those thoughts. You know the ones.

Oh my lord. What if everybody else folds up their rags? What if I'm not normal? What if she's sitting down at her house thinking to herself, "I cannot believe she doesn't fold up her old rags? I bet her linen closet is a mess! She probably doesn't even have a label maker." (No. I still don't have one. But I still have half a year. If you remember, it was one of my resolutions. If you are wondering, I have broken a lot of these already. I'm going to do a mid-year update on July 1.)

I am sure everybody has feelings like this from time to time. Or even realizations that something they do in their own home is not the "norm" to others. (And for goodness sake, if you do not have feelings like this, please do not tell me, because it will just further the evidence that Jamey will need to put me in one of those special hospitals. And I'll only be able to come home on occasional weekends and holidays.)

It reminds me of a Friends episode I saw. Let's see if I can find a clip. Be back in a few minutes. . .

I'm back! And oh yes. I found it. I LOVE this. You must watch this. (Click on the video right now. You will not be disappointed.)

See? But I suppose the moral to this is that I would rather be thought of as odd for not folding up old rags than for going to a tailor like Joey's.

One more thing before I go. I will be out of pocket the next few days, because I am going to go seeeeeeeee, my BFF!!! I leave tomorrow to go see Yvette! I may do another interview with her, like we did when she was here last. Because that was fun and entertaining. For us. I had to clarify that in case you didn't think it was fun and entertaining.

Happy day folks!

It's Official - I'm Out of My Mind

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 19:33:00 +0000

Yep. Sure am.

As of this morning, I am officially signed up to run the 2011 SunTrust Richmond Marathon on November 12.

Wait, let me check again.

Yep. Completely out of my mind.

If some of you recall one of my earlier posts (Carolyn, the Racing Lunatic), it looks as though I have some work to do. If you don't remember what I'm talking about, then you must read the post I've linked to.

I don't know what has possessed me to train for another marathon. I guess part of it is the fact that I haven't done one in quite some time. Since Joshua was born, I really haven't participated in many races. I used to do several races each year before he came along. I have done two marathons. I guess I am possibly trying to rediscover that part of me again. This, however, is partially how I know I'm crazy. Because seriously, do I really have to do an entire marathon? What's wrong with a 10k? Or a half marathon if I really want to push myself? I'm not sure.

I think another part of it is that my lovely, husband, Jamey ran one last year. And he has given me two reasons to try it again. Number one, he ran one. Therefore, I am jealous. (Hey, at least I'm honest!) And so now I want to do one. And number two, he ran it with a training team. OK OK, some of you know that the first marathon I ever ran was through a training team. But there's a difference. The difference is that, that training team sucked.

OK. It didn't really suck. It served its purpose. It was a Jeff Galloway training program. But the program directors were not the best at helping us train. Basically, they showed up, set up aid stations, handed out maps, and said good luck. We were lucky (those of us in the slow groups) if we saw them when we got back from our runs. But I want more out of a training program. And Jamey promises me that this group is different.

Plus, my first two marathons were done using the run/walk technique. I had a watch with dual timers on it. I'd run 10 minutes. Then I'd walk for two. Over and over again. And eventually I'd peter out in the final six miles somewhere and walk for a while and run at the end. So this time, I have a goal. I truly hope to run the whole race. I don't want to walk.

sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .I also have a super secret goal to run it in 4:45 or less. If I run it in 4:30 or less, I will no longer stick to my promise not to look like a lunatic at the finish line and will post the picture on my blog. But ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

My first training run is Saturday morning at 7am. And we go for 5 miles. WOOT WOOT! Wish me luck in my training!

Happy day folks!

I Beg For an Explanation to These Two Questions

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Tue, 31 May 2011 12:51:00 +0000

Why in the world do they have scented dishwasher detergent?

Seriously. I want to know.

Because it makes no sense.

Have you ever once been running your dishwasher and thought to yourself, "My how I love the lemon scent emenating from my dishwasher?" Or better yet, have you ever pulled out a newly cleaned dish and put it up to your nose, inhaling deeply, and said, "Aaaahhh, so lovely. My dishes smell like they've just been plucked out of an orange grove!"

If you said yes to either of these, I'm sorry, but I think you are totally lying. And I must (sorry mom) call bullshit.

I also beg for an explanation for this statement:

One word. . .

HUH?

Happy day folks!

The Dog is Still Alive - Barely

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Sun, 29 May 2011 13:28:00 +0000

For those of you who are not sure what I am talking about, you must go see my previous post, which is entitled: My Dog Needs to Enter the Canine Protection Program - IMMEDIATELY. If you look at this post, you will certainly understand why I felt he needed to enter this program.

You will all be glad to know, that as of right now, Quincy is still alive. But it was really touch and go there when my husband got home the other day.

So just a quick post today to show why he still may need to enter this program.

Jamey was cleaning out our ~~black hole of a~~ garage yesterday. Qfus the doofus decided it would be fun to explore. Under Jamey's bike. A lot. This is the result of his exploring:

Uh-huh. That's grease. It 's not coming out. Sigh. You now see why I make no promises for his future.

The one bright side is that my toes look really cute in this picture.

Happy Memorial Day folks!

My Dog Needs to Enter the Canine Protection Program - IMMEDIATELY

noreply@blogger.com (Carolyn @ http://carolynsfamilyblogspot.blogspot.com) — Fri, 27 May 2011 19:18:00 +0000

It's totally true. Would you like to know why?

Let me paint you a picture. No better yet, let me post you a picture:

Oh, yes he did. For whatever reason, Qfus the doofus decided it would be really fun to dig a new hole in the yard. Right smack in the middle of the newly sprouted grass that Jamey planted a couple of weeks ago.

I didn't notice it at first. That's because I saw this first:

(Disclaimer: This scene has been recreated to look like it did this morning. He actually had dragged it into the driveway, so I put it back how I first found it this morning.)

That, my friends, is a substantial piece of an azalea bush from the front yard. If you remember correctly, last summer, Quincy had a habit of uprooting entire azalea bushes and bringing them to the front door. Like a cat. At least this time it wasn't the entire azalea.

So I was right in the middle of scolding him for the azalea mauling when I looked up to the top part of our yard and saw a suspicious looking spot where there should have been green grass. I walked up further, and then my fear was confirmed. The poor dog is not going to see it coming tonight when Jamey gets home. That's because he's too doofussy to know when he should be scared for his life. Maybe since he thinks he's a cat, he's got several lives left. And who am I to break it to him that he's a dog? If he realized that his time is running very short, he'd probably pee on the floor. I'm just lazy and don't want to have to clean that up.

I am so entirely sure that his life is going to end in the very near future that I gave him a last meal. A chewie and a fresh bowl of water. Though I'm not sure he deserved it.

This is not the first time he's done something that caused us to consider ending his life. There's this one:

This was taken during the time where I was supposed to be on bed rest, because my bronchitis was on the verge of turning into the "in the hospital" style pneumonia. And I was in my nightclothes and it had been raining, and so Quincy thought it would be fun to dig in the mud. I had to give him a bath. He weighs well over 80 pounds. I don't think the doctor would have approved this activity for me at the time, and I'm actually quite surprised I didn't end up in the hospital after this was over. And on a side note, how is it that this dog loves to go in a completely stinky, algae filled, muddy, disgusting creek or river, but he doesn't want to go in a lovely nice, warm lovely bathtub?

Oh and there was also this one:

Not to mention this was the THIRD bed he had destroyed. I guess the third time's the charm for us getting that he doesn't deserve a bed. Now he sleeps on the cold tile floor. I don't feel a lick bad for it either.

I have a few other lovely "landscaping" pictures. Don't forget: like a cat:

I love the way in this one, he is laying right beside the azalea, and he looks either 1. totally proud of himself, 2. acting totally innocent, or 3. completely stupid. Which do you think it is? Because I really wonder, myself.

The fabric you see was dug up from underneath the mulch on the side of our house. And he brought all the lumber from over there too.

It happened so frequently last summer that we just started leaving it like this for weeks at a time. I'm sure our neighbors loved us for that. No wonder no one talks to me.

And this just shows how dumb he really is. Sorry, but he is. You'd think I'd be all, "No no, Quincy, don't bring that in here." I could have held the door open all day and he'd have never gotten it inside because he couldn't figure out how to get it through the door. Sigh.

Happy day folks!