Me and My Chickens

Excuse me?

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 23:32:00 +0000

The other night while I was standing at the stove cooking dinner Andrea made this comment, "You know your skin kinda feels funny after you shave it". Of course I have to agree with her and pointed out that your hair actually has an important function of protecting the skin but out of vanity we shave it. Then Andrea dropped one of those tidbits that make me want to panic and laugh hysterically at the same time.

"Yeah, my arms feel kinda weird but they are nice and smooth."

I just about had kittens right there. With Herculean strength I pushed down the urge to wig out on her and asked as calmly as possible; has she been shaving her arms. You never know when you become a parent what kind of insane questions you will have to ask. She told me in her best annoyed preteen voice that as a matter of fact she has been shaving her arms.................Blink, Blink.

Right there I broke. "ARE YOU CRAZY? DON'T SHAVE YOUR ARMS. THAT IS FOR SWIMMERS AND MALE STRIPPERS". Yup, I am the world's greatest mom.

After I calmed down and told her to shave her legs and her armPITS, I then had to explain that house painters have people come clean up the occasional paint spill and they are called strippers and you know how hairy some guys arms are and to keep from have constant pain from pulling out their arm hairs they just shave them.

Yeah I'm a coward.

The Turtle

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 00:21:00 +0000

So for Father's Day I got Chris a turtle. Chris has always thought of turtles as neat animals and I knew it would be a hit with him. What I didn't know was that the whole family would fall for the critter. (either that or we are really hard up for a dog) So just before Father's Day the quest for a turtle began. First I tried to get a 4th grade teacher to give me her class turtle. At first she was good with it but then told me I had to bring it back for school next year. So since Ms. S turned out to be a raging Indian Giver I had to come up with another plan.

I went turtle hunting. Just a few days before I had seen a just hatched baby turtle in a stream while hiking along Lake Rim. I just figured I would hike back in, have a look around and viola instant pet. Nope. I went in twice as far as the last trip and searched several streams and the banks of the river and no turtle. After doing a run and jump to get over a muddy stream I noticed a pine tree along the trail. A section of bark had been ripped off and just a few feet past it in the soft sand was a bear print. I held my scream on the inside and almost peed myself. I made a hasty leap back over the water and started my retreat. Then suddenly out of the blue my cell phone chimed to this, "I can text now, did you hear that Richard has been chosen for the ALL Stars team? Today is national donut day per dad". Yup my mother texted me while I was trying to retreat from man eating bears. So then it was onto plan D. (don't ask about C)

That left me with buying one and I had to go to South Carolina to do that. First I tried to just drive in and stop at the first pet shop I saw. After an hour of no shops I decided to pull into Barefoot Landing and ask around. Barefoot Landing does have "info huts" but they only tell you about the shops in Barefoot Landing. They refuse to say anything else. So I let the girls stroll along a walk way while I sat on a bench to work 411 on my cellphone. I didn't get far until Laney started shouting about a turtle. Lo and behold a giant turtle was floating in the water with several fish begging for food. I had to cough up about two bucks in quarters for the girls to feed the critters. I was so ticked off that the thing I wanted was right in front of me but I couldn't have it.

Eventually we found a PetSmart and bought a turtle. Chris was very pleased with it and well I don't think he would have survived if he didn't.

We named the turtle JT for Just Turtle. Laney keeps calling it TJ for TURTLE JUSTICE. The girls also take the turtle out for a walk in the front yard about every other day. I took it into the vet's office CJ use to work for to get it a check up. The vet said the turtle is a female, to try feeding it more veggies, and that it was a very healthy turtle. Thank goodness because I don't think I can handle another traumatic pet death. You can only deal with that drama so often with your kids.

The most interesting part is that JT begs for food and seems to like messing with me. I have tried to feed it all kinds of veggies and sometimes it will taste them but wind up spitting them back out. She then drags the veggies up under her rocks like a little kid hiding its broccoli under a napkin. Even the turtle wants to make me crazy.

I Can't Believe She Was Serious.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 14:42:00 +0000

So Sunday Chris made a quick visit by the studio and I decided to go into the beauty shop next door. Laney has been biting her nails and the poor things are nothing but nubs now. I have declared no more nail painting until she actually grows out nails to paint. Laney is not pleased with this and is trying to stop the biting. Then I had an idea. I need to purchase nail polish especially made for nail biters and I just assumed that it could be found in any of the abundant beauty supply shops in town. Seemed like a safe assumption.

After perusing several aisles of wigs and weaves, because for some odd reason they really fascinate me, I made my way to the nail supply aisle. All kinds of neat products that I mentally filed away to come pick up at another time. I also decided that I could use some of the acrylic nails stuff to make miniature clear models of tiny animals. I also spied battery operated nail files and some kind of silk wrapping for nails. (SO FANCY) After several minutes of browsing I could not find the bad tasting nail polish. I did find nail growth polish and decided to pick that up. I figured giving Laney a little boost wouldn't hurt anything.

I wandered up to the check out isle and asked the lovely store clerk if she knew where in the store I could find the nail polish. I said, "My daughter is a very bad nail bitter and I am looking for nail polish made to deter her from that". The answer I got was so amazing I stood there stunned. Lovely store clerk, "Well this is a black beauty supply shop and black children don't do that." Me, "........'blink, blink'.............."

I was so shocked and amazed by that comment that it literally rendered me speechless. I gathered up my purchased and stumbled my way outside into the glaring sun.

How would I be defined?/A bird of a different feather.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 12:09:00 +0000

This morning I was reading an article about a small North Carolina town. The article was about summertime without air conditioning and the time period was from the late 50's to mid 60's. This line showed me what a sad state I am in. "Mama and her neighbors had their housework done by the afternoon and visited one another over iced tea." When I read that I got a tinge of jealousy. Them all sweaty, no air conditioned women had other women to hang with during the day. Darn heifers.

I am one of few stay at home moms in my neighborhood. I don't entertain myself with drinking and night club dancing. I am also not ultra pious and do not flaunt my Christianity and use it to social climb. I have a strange love for SciFi movies and tv shows. I talk rough and like to set up my target in the back yard for shooting practice with my compound bow, but I don't hunt. Also I spank my kids. I am not scandalous enough for some, I do not reference enough geeky culture in my speech, or play nerdy souped up versions of chess for others, not hyper spiritual, not redneck enough for a few and not well mannered for most. So? What in the crap am I? Who can I spend time with? Where is the nice womanly niche for me to fill in?

So because I am a true adult and know that I should put all things in my life to prayer I of course asked the Google. I know Lord I need to talk with you and listen to what you say before I jump but I didn't have my coffee yet and my brain just wasn't functioning right. So are we good? Okay.

So I asked The Google to show me a stay at home mom. One of the images shown was Rosie the Riveter holding a baby. Apparently Google didn't know she worked. I guess it was to show moms can do everything but it still wasn't what I was looking for.

Next just to see what would pop up I searched for images of working moms and this photo of Val Kilmer for the movie Willow popped up. I guess The Google wasn't following gender lines on that one. It also showed some pictures of Elvira. Of course Elvira and the movie Willow touched on my nerdy side (plus remember in Willow when Val was talking about how he would make a great mother?).

So I searched geek mom on The Google and this awesome photo came up. I do love me some Star Wars, Dr. Who, Star Trek, Firefly but I hated the new Battlestar Galatica and I don't like the image of a PC there. So I guess I am kinda geeky but not a full on bona-fide geek mom. Also why do geeks completely dismiss Barbarella? I liked that movie.
Next I searched The Google for Christian mom and this one popped up. I don't fully identify with this type of Christian mom. I feel more that I am a mother who is also a Christian. My faith is peppered in everything I do but it is not the main color that I paint with. Faith is interwoven into our lives with all the other characteristics that we have and it effects each characteristic. I am not comfortable coming at a person so strongly and heavily with my faith that it is scary overwhelming. It is not hidden but it isn't flashing in bright neon lights either. Maybe in time as God and I work on my flaws it will be more evident but for now that hyper super Christian mom is not me.
So in an act of true disappointment, because well every one knows that The Google doesn't function very well as a Magic 8 Ball, I looked for a chicken mom. Most images where of chicken recipes but this little gem popped up and it tickled my demented side.

I still feel like I don't fit in anywhere and I have tried. I have tried to get along with super moms but felt very inadequate in their presence. Plus I really do think some of them "do all" moms are on drugs. There is no way a human being can run the PTA, keep their home spotless, cook extravagant and healthy meals everyday, shuttle their kids all over creation, wear snappy outfits and be part of the Ladies Jr. League without some mother's little helper. Those absolutely perfect women will be a top a tower with a high powered machine gone one day. Mark my words.

I have tried the party moms and the loving mother/frat house boy personality kinds creeps me out. I have tried the super Christian moms but I felt extremely uncomfortable. I don't know for sure what it is but a whole group of them makes me queasy. They aren't bad people but it just doesn't sit right with me. I can not find other geek moms. I guess not to many geek girls become geek moms. I have tried intellectual moms and felt dumb. I have tried to spend time with working moms but those guys are so ran ragged I feel bad interrupting their rare downtime. A few stay at home moms I know are either crazy or loaded down with toddlers and babies. I like toddlers and babies but that mom is very scatter brained and few can navigate the diaper clad jungle and still carry on full coherent sentences. I understand that stage of motherhood but since I was able to finally run away from that I kinda don't like visiting it. Lets face it. If the kid is still in a diaper or eats dirt and they aren't a niece or nephew I ain't going anywhere near it. Also I am not the shopping mom, the gym mom, the organic hippie mom or the sports mom. I am not the PTA mom, the artsy mom or the everybody else's mom. Also I am not a dog mom. I really don't get the whole dog mom thing.

I don't know what I am and in the end only my children will define what kind of mom I am. For now I will do the best I can, and still make small fleeting attempts at companionship with women I have no understanding for.

Crap! It feels like high school again.

Shallow, shallow, shallow, so much shallowness.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 00:07:00 +0000

While cooking dinner I let my mind do some wondering. Really it wonders all the time but just for once it felt like I was in semi-control since I gave it permission.

So while it was taking it's little stroll through the tulips it noticed that I get some kind of arrogant pleasure to notice other people's flaws. You know things like, "She is so amazingly well read but as deaf as a door knob" or "They are one of the most loving families I have ever met but their house is a pig style" and the one that I absolutely get the most pleasure out of, "She is still FAT".

Yup, I went there and I go there very often. The most recent was seeing one of my neighbor ladies at the girls' school. I was attending the end of year parent volunteer brunch and saw her swoop in with her very sweet toddler in tow. She came in a very fetching summer dress with matching head band and super cute shoes. So why do I feel the need to judge her? Because she is one of those. One of those women that have to be in the clique. The ones that are masters of everything and everyone. I can handle the McGyver of all things public and domestic but the needed to rule over others makes me instantly feel full on disgust towards you. (I fart in your general direction)

As I watched her plant herself in the center of her group and watched them cackle over her like a bunch of noisy hens I realized something. I had not seen her in roughly 9 months (I know as a neighbor I really do suck) and she is just as fat as she was before. And that made me feel better some how.

I know as a big girl myself I should know better than to judge others about their weight but I couldn't help it. It was irresistible like a forbidden apple in the center of the garden. I knew I shouldn't but I did it anyway.

I will try to do better. I will notice that this person and other people as well have some many personal issues that for me to judge them on something so petty is frivolous and wrong. I will remember this lesson and become better for it.

p.s.

Girl you should of seen that floral dress she was wearing. When she turned around the flowers on her back side looked like they were straining to pop right off and runaway. Looked like two big headed kids with their faces pressed up against a window with all the force they could muster. I have never seen all the detail of a hibiscus flower until I saw it blown up to poster size.

Thank goodness I ain't Catholic. Could you imagine how many Hail Marys that would be?

That is how I got SUPERPOWERS!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 23:22:00 +0000

Today I was chit chatting with my sister on Facebook (because we are so high school) and I dropped this one. "I'm on my fifth cup of coffee and when the caffeine levels get that high I can't eat. So today's lunch is Dunkin Dougnuts coffee with French Vanilla creamer followed by an awesome dessert of uncontrollable handshakes! Because I'm healthy and crap like that." She then lovingly pulled a cyber Memaw on me and informed me of my bad health decision. Touche' Jocelyn Touche'.

Yeah, so five cups of coffee isn't the greatest thing for me but sometimes I have to do something bad. (or else I could go crazy) Normally my regular coffee intake is two mugs and when I feel adventurous I double to four. Four is my mother's helper when I need some extra oomph for the day. I zip around my chores and errands and sometimes I do a few miles on my bike to insure I sleep well that day. Oh, but today I forged passed my boundaries and broke the sound barrier with a FIFTH cup!

Cup number five. Cinco. And it was good. I could see colors. I could hear the buzz of flies from outside and my kids' bathroom was spotless in a matter of minutes. The girls came home from school and I had a million questions for them. I made dinner, fed the neighbor's kid and cleaned the kitchen. Finished the end of year teacher's gifts (also for the neighbor's kid). Cleaned the fridge, mended the four inch tear in my comforter, washed the sheets, cleaned out the kids craft cabinet, and redid the summer calendar (originally that took me three days). And. I. Could. Save. The. World!

Until I disastrously crashed from my insane caffeine high. You could hear the roaring screeching sound as my over taxed body slammed back into Mother Earth. My poor lovely daughters. They suffered the worst.

They were watching a Mr. Bean episode and they could not understand it. Mr. Bean's tv wasn't working and he kept running around his apartment with an odd looking tree of wires on a stick. They had no idea was that small wire tree was. Why didn't his cable or satellite work? They had so many questions and I was spent. I didn't answer them. They had a long discussion about that wire tree. I just laid on the couch and drooled. They then performed their bedtime ritual and went off to slumber land perplexed.

So no more five cups of coffee. It may make me a SUPREME HOUSEKEEPING GODDESS but a pretty crappy mom. Oh well.

Your are fruity in the loops, she is fruity in the loops, I am fruity in the loops. Just face it we are all FRUITY!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 16:01:00 +0000

Lord, it is me Nicole again. Thank you for my family. They are amazing people. Really I am amazed by them. I just want you to know you do great work and I am thankful for that. Super job and you are an A+ supreme being. But I just want to let you know that these amazing people are INSANE. They are some kind of crazy. Not "Ha, ha, we so funny crazy" but "we enjoy padded rooms and little white backwards coats with straps" kind of crazy. And exo facto by association they are making me crazy. Here is what I mean.

Let's start with their dad, Chris. I still don't know why there is a case of Mentos in my house but you planted the idea in his brain that he needed to buy those. Also why does he do his computer work at the couch while watching Arewolf episodes on Netflix. We have a desk. Grant it the desk is usually cluttered but most of it is his stuff anyway. And why did you give him this freakish ability to always come home while I am in the shower? Here is the scene. I just finish yard work, a hike, or something that makes me sweat like a pig and I need a shower. I am home alone and after I just start shampooing my hair a man's voice breaks through the silence to say "Hey baby, just thought I would let you know I am home". I freak out and try to climb the tile, soap stinging my eyes or better yet I am shaving my legs and now I have a three inch slice going down my shin. Oh and because of that I never want a surprise party. My poor heart won't take it.

Next is Andrea. She is super smart and I am thankful for that. I am worried a little about her personal drive. She doesn't do great school work just for the accolades. Nope she does it so she can thoroughly squash all competition and then throws sand in their eyes. It is kinda creepy and I think there may be some children in therapy after competing with her. Her personal style is just starting to develop and already it has gone to some strange places. One day for school she pulled her hair up into a twist, clamped it down with a large hair claw then put two take out chop sticks into her hair. I was more then ready to tell her how foolish it looked until she turned around. Right in the middle of her forehead was a green smily face sticker. I was so taken back I did not voice my concern and let her go to school looking like a wacked out Hindu with antenna. Oh, and she also takes fish hook earrings, attaches candy to them and wears them to school. It is just so hard to talk to her while constantly staring at the Jolly Ranchers still in their wrappers dangling wildly from her lovely ears. Lord thank you for not giving her the idea to impale Peeps on a wire and hang those from her ears. I don't think I could of ever taken her seriously again.

Then there is CJ. The man child. He is not a child anymore but he is also not quite an adult yet. He is in some kind of identity limbo. I am proud of him. He is back in college and is holding down his jobs. He still has his midget girlfriend, Applegate, and she still seems very nice and sane. But Lord, the boy is like a ghost. We only see him at night and early morning. I am beginning to think he may be a vampire. He is not home during the day but I think he keeps his coffin at the Swedish Imports mechanic shop off of Bragg blvd. As a matter of fact I think it is that little black Saab he was driving around at one time. God if he really is a vampire please bless him with better day time arrangements than a ratty old Saab. Maybe an old Volkswagon or a mangy minivan. Anything than that rust bucket his was in. I will embrace his alternate life style but I am encouraging he does it safely.

Finally we come to Laney. She has an amazing mind. It is full of great intelligence but it is guided by a runaway missile. She comes up with glorious, beautiful and odd ideas. She has a black cloth bag she is keeping in the kitchen full of various items she collected from around the house. She is using this collection to build a robot. A robot with a small plastic purse full of emergency LIPSTICK. I am trying my best to encourage this new creative play for her but she keeps talking about how the robot will be my maid at first and then when the kids move out I can be the maid for the robot! At first I argued that the robot won't need a maid and that is not how I want to spend my time when the kids move out. She then started to design her robot with a small laser gun on the back for when the robot might need it. "Just encase" she says while eyeing me.

So there you have it Lord. I do love my family but I think you sent me some of the Adams family by mistake. It is too late to return them now because I have grown attached to them. I just ask you to please equip me with the tools I need to take care of them, to love them, and to gently guide them. Please show me how to care for their needs in a way that shows to them that I truly do love them. Because Lord one of them children will one day rule the world with a demented sister and a vampire brother and I want to come from the ensuing world war and Apocalypse unscathed and with a small house on my own island in Hawaii and that will only happen if they think I am on their side.

Thank you. Amen

Forgiveness, it is everywhere.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 30 May 2011 14:04:00 +0000

slight cussing at the 4:30 mark and violence scattered through out

Let's play the forgiveness game. Here are the rules.

1. Never practice forgiveness.

2. NEVER practice forgiveness.

3. You must convince others you have forgiveness.

4. Must use your lack of forgiveness to feed your wrath and to help you make elaborate plans of revenge.

5. When you tell someone you forgive them give as many long lingering hugs as you can to truly make the recipient as uncomfortable as possible.

6. Must quote lines from well respected individuals or better yet bible verses.( MLK quotes 2 points bible verses 4 points)

7. The forgiveness game never ends.

8. If this is your first time playing the Forgiveness Game (really your first time?) well um........you must be like two if you haven't had to do this before; so go away. I already don't like you.

Ah forgiveness what a strange way of life. The forgiveness word has been popping up everywhere. Sunday school class, the tv, my Netflix of Farscape has had a few episodes of Crichton forgiving Aeryn (my nerd points just increased) and at the girls' school. The character ambassador trait for the month of May is ,drum roll please, FORGIVENESS. And Laney was selected as the character ambassador of her class too! Lots of forgiveness talk going around my house and more than once I wanted to punch somebody. Also for the next week I will be putting my own neck on the chopping block dealing with some unfortunate things I have said. So all aboard on the forgiveness train!

A friend is having a hard time forgiving his wife's employers for being all around jerks to his spouse. He has brooded over this injustice for weeks and wants so much to teach those bad men a lesson but knows that is not the way to go. I've listened to him rant only two times and I can tell it has eaten him up and I want to punch him, but I don't. I know that each person will have this lesson handed to them in life. Everyone must figure this out themselves or they will never learn, but how some people handled it frustrates me so bad I could kick puppies.

I also had to deal with unforgiveness in our old church. Truly what the whole ugly business boiled down to was people flat out refused to forgive each other and instead used their anger to fuel various plans and schemes of revenge. (Oh and a couple of grandpas decided to duke it out) I spoke to a few of the older congregants about this attitude and they said they could never forgive the others for what they did or did not do. I am so looking forward to when I get to become a senior citizen and get to revert back to preschool behavior.

Laney is the forgiveness character ambassador. All she knows is that is a really big word but apparently she has this super power ability and the school rewarded her with a lunch from Chic-fil-a. She asked what forgiveness meant and I told her it was the ability to hear some one say "I'm sorry" and you say "That's okay" in return. She shrugged it off and decided it had to be something way cooler than that. (so I guess that even at a young age it is a hard concept)

I made a major step to forgive not matter what it would cost me, in my life. That is an amazing thing but to be honest it was a survival instinct. I knew in order to make any progress I had to give up my right to seek justice. Here it is raw for you. In a two hour ride to race to my dying son I got a phone call telling me he didn't make it. Chris and I made the decision right there, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, to forgive. We forgave the people that neglected our son when he needed them most. We could have had charges brought against them but we didn't. We could of cut them out of our lives all together but we didn't. We completely gave that decision to forgive to God and walked away from it. We had other things to do. We had a family to care for, a son to bury, and a sea of grief to wade through. Know what? In all that stuff the forgiving was the easiest to do.

I have had several other people here who recently want to play the forgiveness game with me. You know what sucka, I don't play. When I hear someone complain and wallow in their anger and unforgiveness I have an over whelming urge to slap a fool. I really do. I want to reach out, smack them in the head and hope the force fires up some sleeping neurons and spark some sense into them.

Unfortunately that means that I am in the Homie the Clown stage of my spiritual walk and that is okay for me but not for others. I could be a slight danger to fellow Christians. Also I think I have been in this stage for a while and refused to acknowledge it. So that means I need to lay low for a time and try my best to not make any waves. If I am not mature enough to control myself and you are not mature enough to deal with me than we need to stay away from each other.

p.s. to my children I want a Homie the Clown sock for Christmas.

Educated Dirty Laundry

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 10 May 2011 14:30:00 +0000

Yesterday I did the usual Monday search of Laney's backpack. Yes the search should always be done on Friday so there will be no surprises come Monday, but we all know I am a big slacker in the mommy department. So bite my butt.

Anyway while doing the regular search and seizure on my kid's belongings I was given a gentle reminder as to why these searches should not only be done on Friday but also at random. After pulling out some library books, and a few papers I pulled out Laney's light weight pink coat and then Holy Great Pencil Sharpener a pair of underwear falls out of the bag!

I tried my best calm mommy voice (which I must remember always scares the mess out of my kids) I asked Laney why a pair of underwear where in her bag. That of course put Laney on high alert. She stood up very straight and did a stiff bend over and peak to see what I was holding. She then relaxed and said, "Oh, Friday when I got to school that pair of underwear was dangling out of my other underwear so I just stood up and pulled them out. I put them in my backpack".

Now let us analyze this comment. In class she felt a something dangling out of her underwear, stood up from her desk, reached into her pants, and pulled out another pair of underwear...................

Could you imagine some kid just standing up in your class room and pulling out a pair of underwear? What do you say to your student? How long do you wonder if the kid now has on ANY underwear? That poor teacher.

There was no note home and Laney acted like it was no major thing so I dropped it. Literally, that pair went straight to the laundry. I never had to wash laundry from a school backpack. There is always a first time.

Mother's Day and nobody got hurt! SCORE!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Sun, 08 May 2011 22:29:00 +0000

Ah, Mother's Day. A day to honor your mother or to watch your family try to honor you. Personally that whole, 'here is one day you MUST show love to your mother' all day is just odd to me. Add different ladies boasting about what her fantastic cherubs and amazing husband did to worship at the alter of motherhood did that morning is also just odd. What happened to remembering my BIRTHDAY? You know that day were I actually did something. I came into existence. I mean that is no small thing but that day always slides by like a greased goose and I am stuck with the price of a few more wrinkles and grey hair that won't color. (I have paid professionals and those things still won't color. Stupid mutant hair)

Anyway I am blessed with a husband and spawn that want to do nice things for me and well I am always looking for the shoe to drop. I gave you a nice card, so can I have a sleep over, watch R rated movies, or have your credit card? You know those kinds of things. I sincerely try my hardest to show them I am thankful and I really truly am, but I just can't shake the suspicion. Alas my family knows I am dysfunctional and just carry on.

This morning Andrea made me breakfast, Laney painted me a picture of a big rig truck that says 'Best Mom', CJ gave me flowers and a funny bumper sticker for my van. Chris got me a nice collection of various golf accessories and golf lessons. (well the lessons will start when he finds the 'appropriate' teacher for me.............yeah I am a little worried about that too) After everyone was sharply dressed, hair coiffed and my war paint well applied; we headed off to church.

CHURCH. The gathering hole. God's house. The Body of Christ. The City of the Living God. Yup, the Big G's crib and I still have major problems going to church on Mother's Day. Basically it is a whole time period of motherly praises and I am counting up all the one less moments we have. One less chair is filled at the dinner table, one less kid to wake me in the morning, one less kid to go to school and one less kid to make homemade cards for me. Mother's Day is the one holiday that really kicks me in the gut while ripping my heart out.

I am getting better. The last two Mother's Days we took the family on a trip. Chris knew I needed to runaway. Today was less tortures than it could of been. Thank goodness the preacher taught about Jesus as the shepherd and not a whole mother specific sermon. But the point is I made it through.

After church Chris took the whole family and CJ's girlfriend, Applegate, out for lunch. We went to the new steak house in Hope Mills and I needed to blow off some steam. Chris seemed to handle the shenanigans well. I decided to seriously rock the whole "it's my day" thing and ordered a filet with a lobster. Oh, my that lobster was the source of much entertainment. The girls have never seen a person eat a whole lobster and watching me rip chucks of meat out of the once happy little sea critter was a sight to behold. I did ask the waiter for lobster tools so I could try to eat lady like but the restaurant did not have them. The chef had already split the tail and cracked the claws for me but from there you were on your own.

So while my whole family watched I popped the claws off with my bare hands and yanked the flesh out. While Laney's eyes grew larger and larger I dipped the sweat morsels into melted butter and gratefully relished the taste. (Laney also told me to not eat the eyes?)

.............................Sorry had to a small emergency and had to step away from the computer. Laney opened a new bottle of red Fanta, after shaking it up, in the kitchen and well red staining soda everywhere. So where were we? Oh, me gutting a lobster.

It did not take long for Andrea to notice that when I took the meat out of one of the claws, that it was still in good condition and best of all it still had the little thingy on the inside that you could pull and the claw would open and close. She quickly claimed it as her own and named it Sheldon. CJ claimed the other and was using it as a pincher to feed himself one french fry at a time. I also cracked open the head piece and showed the girls were the lobsters gills were. Somewhere during that time Chris and Applegate made eye contact and made a silent plea to each other but seriously what could be done?

The meal was fantastic and Chris noticed a moment for revenge. I hate country music and our waiter kept singing it. I was handling it well but after a while I started to get an eye twitch. The waiter also gave us a little speech about how he loved to sing country music and several people have been telling him to try out for American Idol and that some woman once paid him an extra $20 for singing so wonderfully while he served her. Yeah, what ever buddy that is so not going to happen with me.

The meal was nice and the offer for dessert came. Of course being the holiday glutton that I am I wanted an order of bread pudding but to go. So I could curl up on my couch, watch some tv, and enjoy the sweet goodness at home; AWAY from the country music. Chris looked up at the waiter told him the order but to serve it there at the restaurant. Yup, sold out by my loving husband just because we played with a lobster carcass at the dinner table. By the time we did finally leave I wanted to run out the door screaming. The waiter also had a dangling mole on his face that caused me some concern. It was also the first time I have seen a mole that dangled. I didn't know they existed.

The rest of my day was spent napping on the couch while watching episodes of Farscape. Yup, Happy Mother's Day.

Mother's Day is Coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 03 May 2011 13:23:00 +0000

This morning as soon as my cute little toes hit the floor my big ugly mouth started nagging. CJ turned on the tv and the girls were not fully ready for school yet. Ok? Let that sentence sink in and marinate a little on your grey matter.

My children are absolutely incapable of performing normal day to day functions if the TV is on.

Oh course they inherited that wierdo gene from me but we are not talking about me right now. (Who am I kidding? I love attention. We will talk about me in just a little bit) Laney still had three major needs to tend to and CJ had his goofy monster truck show on, turning the dear girl into a zombie eyed drooling mess. She still needed to put on socks and shoes, brush her teeth, and attempt to tame her chronic case of bed hair. So as soon as I finally dragged myself out of bed my mouth started like................. just so I don't call myself ugly names, um, you fill in the blank.

Laney was quickly chastised and CJ was lit into so bad that it caused him to turn the TV off and make a hasty retreat to work. Suddenly he was conscience about being late, who knew? Finally both girls were ready for school and the TV was turned back on. A little to myself and aloud to the growing jungle of cobwebs above my head I said this lovely gem. "Because Mother's Day is coming I just felt the overwhelming need to nag somebody. I can't miss out on the chance to earn more Mommy Points."

Laney and Andrea about snapped their heads off of their tiny necks to quickly give me disapproving glances. Laney said that maybe this year she didn't want to celebrate Mother's Day. I promptly told her that I do want to raise children that had the conviction to stand by their choices no matter what. I also thanked her on making the decision to not want to celebrate a holiday because that made it easier for me. I then told the girls that I no longer want to celebrate Christmas. It is just so expensive, and tiring and time consuming. I would love to take that whole month to just sit back and relax. Think of all the money Chris and I could save and even put some into a savings account so we could go to Greece!

Laney slumped down and kinda melted into the couch. "Fine I can make a card or something for Mother's Day."

Oh little girl you will. You will.

April Fools

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 00:33:00 +0000

So this April Fools I decided to celebrate such a fine holiday and unleash some of my aggression issues. Boy did I have fun!

First Thursday night after the kids went to bed, I bubbled wrapped the kid's cereal and their toothbrushes. Second I taped plastic wrap across Andrea's bedroom door. Then just before tucking myself into bed I strung some dental floss across CJ's door. I then floated off to sleep land and had some dreams about a Pee-wee Herman trying to pimp out a tractor. (I really need to download Pee-Wee's Big Adventure)

Laney woke up first and promptly walked into my room holding the cereal and her toothbrush and demanded to know what happened. I told her Happy April Fools, she chuckled, and went on her way. Andrea denies that she walked into the plastic and CJ wanted to know who was trying to kill him. The best was the kid's bathroom toilet. I took the sound chip out of a greeting card and taped it to the toilet lid. When they went to the bathroom the toilet yelled "YOU DID GOOD! HAHAHAHAHA!". Now that is a morning wake up call.

All three went off to the destinations just knowing their mother has snapped and I went to work.

I put red glitter on Andrea's ceiling fan blades and glued google eyes on her bathroom mirror and shampoo bottles. I also glued google eyes on CJ's shampoo bottles and his tv; just so I can say that now it watches him. (I can't always come up with clever quips, sometimes a gal tries but can't alway deliver) I also used a little tissue paper and more googles eyes and rigged Laney's door to shower her with small shaky eye goodness. When they all came home each one had their own little special surprise.

(Andrea's bed after turning her ceiling fan on. She was not pleased with the mess)

The best was the Easter egg dye tablets. I put the tablets into the toilet tanks so that when they flushed the water color would change. Want to know why? I have observed a strange phenomenon in my family. After they flush the toilet they always check the bowl! I don't know why but all of them do it. Andrea came running down her stairs and wanted to know why I made her toilet orange. Laney wanted to know if I was using blue cleaner; so it was a dud for her. Chris was the best. I used green in our toilet and he just about had kittens.

(CJ's tv. I wonder how long he will leave those up.)

All in all I think our family should celebrate April Fools from now on. I also realize they will more thank likely take this day into account when they pick out my nursing home, but this just might have been worth it.

Beware the Ides of March

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 14:11:00 +0000

So I loath the month of March. Lets face it for the past two years March has not been a good month for my family. Robbie passed just eight days after his birthday (March 24th), and a year later I had a stroke from all the stress I heaped upon myself. I painstakingly pushed to make sure that every single moment of every day was perfect for my kids and well it broke my brain. For realls yall.

This year when March rolled around the decision was made to make sure that when we celebrated what would of been Robbie's 7th birthday; it would be as laid back and relaxing as possible. We also decided to celebrate with only our small family.

First we went for a bike ride on the Cape Fear River Trail. We rode two miles in and back making the trip a total of four miles. It seemed like such a good idea until Laney was suddenly trapped on a wild run away bike prompting Chris to ditch his bike run down a hill and save his bewildered little girl. I being the amazingly wonderful mommy that I am, was not around. I didn't want to hang around with the slower part of the family and took the two faster kids farther down the trail. Chris banged up his leg and Laney decided she did not want to ride anymore. Long story short we enjoyed the ride (mostly) and Chris still has a decent sized strawberry mark on his ankle. Laney never wants to go on a bike ride with me, EVER, AGAIN!

We then picked up some chicken wings, went home and had an IronMan marathon. Robbie was a big IronMan fan and we thought that would be a great idea. So we all piled up in the living room with our wings and chowed down. Lets all cross our fingers and hope Laney does not repeat some of the wonderful sexually charged one liners from those movies.

A few days later we sent off some paper sky lanterns that we wrote messages on to Robbie. We had several wild fires in the area a few days before and Chris just knew we were about to start the next one. I will admit I was worried too but the kids were really looking forward to flying their lanterns. Those jokers were a little iffy at first but once they started to float it was smooth sailing.

CJ's girlfriend also surprised us with a birthday cake for Robbie. Applegate is a pretty decent cook and she made a delicious two tiered cake decorated with Hot Wheels and licorice swords that looked like the foam sword Robbie had for his last birthday party. It took a whole week for the kids to eat that cake and they loved every minute of it.

We had a decent time remembering our silly little boy and made some family memories while doing it. Not to bad. So far March didn't have me down........till St. Patrick's day.

I forgot to make sure the girls wore green to school that day. While I was getting dressed to go to the girls' school I made sure I had a green shirt but Freakin' Mother of the Year here couldn't do the same for her kids. Luckily I found three strands of green Madi Gras beads in the car and promptly put them on the girls as soon as I saw them at school. Of course by the time I showed up it was already too late. Andrea has a stern 'if you pinch me I will kill you' look and Laney.........well Laney had been pinched. She voiced her feelings about being forced to suffer such an indignity and snatched those green beads out of my hand and thrust them upon her neck. Poor kid.

Just when you think we have had enough another shoe dropped. The kid's medical insurance had expired and I didn't know it. After all the things we went through to get the medical coverage, it just expired. Poof! So I call the DSS Lady and had to submit a 'special' renewal form packet that I had to wait for her to mail to me. Once I got the 'special' form I about had a

conniption. It was the same form that I could of down loaded online and mailed in; No, I had to wait for the 'special' one from DSS Lady. Because I had to wait the kids went without coverage for a week. The whole time I had a nice little monkey on my back making me worry about what we would do if there was some kind of medical emergency. Once I got the new insurance cards I grabbed that little monkey and sold it to the local freak show. You know the one with Melvin the Amazing Midget and Liz the World's Greatest Lumberjack. No? Yall need to get out more.

So just when I thought I could come out of my fortress of solitude and try to act like a 'normal' mommy the universal joke I call my life let me know it wasn't done with me yet. Andrea had come in second place in her school's civic oration contest and had advanced to the district competition. She had about two weeks to improve her speech, memorize it and practice her hand gestures. Her teacher also sent her to about every class in the school and had her recite her speech and receive critiques from other teachers. (Got to admit if it was me I would have shot someone after doing that speech for the one hundredth time) So when the district contest came my parents, my nephew and mother-in-law came to see it. All of them arrived early so I could pile them up into the minivan, drive into the bowels of Fayetteville and deposit them into the county schools' resource center in the middle of nowhere.

My poor dad had the honor of being in the passenger seat and had a front row ticket to the horror show I call driving. What can I say? I am a self taught driver. Andrea did a great job on her speech and she placed fourth. That just means next year when this speech rolls around again she is going to be kicking butt!! After the contest I piled all the family back into the van (like sardines) and drove by the hospital for a short cut to the Hope Mills Arby's for lunch. While chit chatting with dad and making a joke about the rolling stop I just made I saw flashing blue lights in my rear view mirror.

Yup, the man finally found me and I knew it was just a matter of time before it happened. What was funny was no one else in the van noticed the lights and when I started to slow down to pull over I could her mom from the back of the van asking why I was slowing down. "Because I am being pulled over" and just then I could see in my rear view every one in the back of the van whip their heads back to look at the pretty blue lights. I wonder what that cop was thinking of when he saw them looking back at him. Mr. Officer approached my car and asked why I was driving 48 mph in a 35 zone. Well I did what any self respecting adult would do; I blamed my family.

"Umm, today is my daughter's speech contest and all her grandparents came to see and well I just wasn't paying attention." He looked in the van and saw us packed in like a bunch of illegals and walked back to his patrol car with my driver's license. I could hear mom's voice quietly coming from the back of the van, "Did she blame us?". YES, YES I DID! It worked too because all he did was give me a warning of course instead of me showing my gratitude I blurted out this wonderful gem. "You just had to pull me over in front of my dad!" Yup, manners I has them.

Later in Arby's I texted Chris about my brush with the law and told him they only pulled me over because I am black and Dad is brown. He replied that what I did was UNACCEPTABLE. Yup, March your insistent need to torture us is just unacceptable.

Not only do I have great manners I also now how to dodge responsibility with a beauty called the Blame Game. It is a survival skill really.

Because I Said So!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 13:06:00 +0000

Everyone knows I have a really bad memory. My highly faulty memory springs from a learning disability from childhood. I see it for what it is and do my best with it. My family sees something all together different. They see a loop hole.

CJ is the most skilled in my family on exploiting my faulty brain. He pulls the whole you said this, or you allowed me to do that all the time. Recently he wanted to spend his day off with a friend who stayed home from school that day. I said no because I don't believe in allowing a child to skip school whenever they feel like it. Its just wrong and it tells the child that school is not a big deal. Plus it sounded suspicious to me. CJ just happened to get a call from work saying don't come in and this other kid just happened to have a Tuesday at school when the teachers are only showing movies. Any teacher that knows how to work smarter not harder will save that movie till Friday. Once you blow a day in the first of the week you have shot the whole week. Who would do that and torture themselves with unfocused kids for the next three days? Since I said 'No!' CJ decided to pull this one. "You let me do that once." Really?

I am the mom that pushes for perfect attendance for all its worth. (of course with in reason) I also remember throwing a fit when CJ was in middle and high school they did not get attendance awards and I knew he had achieved that. CJ never gets sick and would rather go to school then stay home and do chores for his mom all day. He knew a good thing when he saw one. Hence-o-facto he never stayed home on movie day.

Andrea is playing the other side of that coin. If mom has bad memory maybe I do too. (she also does the loop hole but hasn't fully perfected its' use yet) Andrea is trying to slack with her school assignments. Of course Andrea is a perfectionist in school and she will scramble to do something last minute and with panic set to HIGH. She says she forgot. I know she didn't forget. She lives for school; not because she loves school , but because she loves to crush her competition so hard that it leaves no doubt she is the superior student. Nice try kid, now do your work before I knock you stupid.

Laney has her own strategy. Mom has bad memory but I have a perfect memory. She remembers EVERYTHING. She misses nothing and when it comes back it just embarrasses the mess out of me. "Remember mom you said her mom dressed like a stripper?" Thanks for reminding me honey. I have to remember to keep my mouth shut around that kid. How do you back peddle on that one? "Oh she means I will help you put that pole up in your house when you get it."

Chris plays the memory game too but he is much more subtle. For example he called last night asking if I made dinner. Of course I didn't. It was Wednesday and there is not time for dinner. I just throw cheese sticks and carpet lint at the kids and we are out the door. So he asked if I want him to bring home something and that he might get the girls some dinner while he was at it. I was good with it and the girls had already eaten their carpet lint. He brought home sushi and then this morning he got me. I told him just before he hit the door that dinner tonight would be leftovers. We have tons of chicken bog left over from Tuesday when only me and the girls had dinner; plus all the fixins. He reminded me that I told him we were out of bog last night and that is why he picked up dinner. No I didn't say that. He made the assumption and then tried to cover by playing on my bad memory.

I don't think the family realizes that playing on my bad memory just opens them for more mommy mayhem. Oh you needed me to pick you up from work; opps I forgot and went to a capoeira class instead. Oh you need dinner tonight; I forgot to cook. Oh you needed poster board for your project; I forgot to pick some up. Oh you wanted to go out on a date tonight; I forgot we are painting today instead.

Since these chumps decided to play with my brain this week and we still have two days left in the week. I'm just going to go with it. I am going to forget everything and just do whatever the winds carries me to do.

DAWG!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 13:15:00 +0000

dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!

Last post I mentioned my childhood pet. The master of disaster, mystical mutt and the Rock Hudson of yard dogs; Dawg. (Dad called him the Rock Hudson of yard dogs because...well... you will see). Dawg was a small black with brown dog that came from such an amazingly mixed pedigree I just don't feel the word 'mutt' truly sums it up. I don't remember where Dawg came from. I want to say he was found in our church parking lot and we just picked him up and brought him home but that just doesn't seem right. I just don't see us dressed in our Sunday clothes laying our just worshiped eyes on some random pup in the parking lot and scoop him up into our arms and head on home for lunch. (then again this is the same family that found a kitten in a restaurant parking lot, brought it home and named it P.U. for pretty ugly)

Dawg was pretty loyal. I would hop on my bike, ride through the woods at breakneck speed and dodging as many low branches as possible while Dawg ran along side of me. When I rode over to a friend's house he would tag along but as soon as he saw me to my destination he would take off and go do his own thing. He always reappeared when it was time to go home to fulfill his faithful escort duties. For the longest time I just knew he was taking his own tour through the woods, chasing rabbits, rolling in mud (and dead animals) and having a great dog's life. Oh how wrong I was.

Dawg was a great dirt road, in the sticks, dog. He barked when cars started to make their way up our driveway. He kept stray dogs away from our house; protecting us children from ne'er-d0-wells of the canine world. He even tried to attack my sister's boyfriend for rough housing with her in the yard and making her squeal. (to be honest sis I absolutely hated that guy and wished Dawg would rip out his throat. I had plans to feed him steaks if he did.) Dawg also took it as his solemn duty to keep me safe from what ever critter was around while I tromped through the woods. I will honestly say I was never attacked by an evil squirrel or rampaging rabbit.

One of my most frequently visited memories was the time Dawg was bitten or stung by something and his face swelled up to almost monstrous proportions. He looked like a canine caricature of Marlon Brando. (I just knew he had no regrets, didn't apologize for his life and he had hopes I would grow up to be Senator Nicole, Governor Nicole, something)

Dawg, Dawg, Dawg, one day a call came that shocked us all. Dawg had an odd affection for my friends' next door neighbor's chickens. Now down in the sticks everyone knew what a chicken was and they normally were nothing special. This one particular neighbor had exotic chickens. These exotic chickens had big round plumes of feathers that made them look like strange chicken astronauts. They also had feathers that covered their feet, giving their toes some insulation in winter. We all kinda thought those neighbors were uppity because they had useless exotic chickens. The only thing those chickens were good for was showing off.

Dawg found those exotic chickens irresistible. At first he would sneak over, grab hold of those chickens and gnaw on their necks. Never broke the skin just wanted to chew a little on them. Then as Dawg got older the chicken games went a tad on the weird side. The owner of the exotic chicken filed a complaint with my parents because they were tired of Dawg chewing on and mounting their chickens!

Oh. My. Goodness! We were mortified. Well most of the family was. Dad thought it was funny and right there he named Dawg to be the Rock Hudson of yard dogs. I didn't go play at my friend's house for days. I was too embarrassed to. Eventually I did go back and well Dawg did what Dawg did. We just kinda ignored it. Like that weird drunk uncle that you know has a good heart but had his flaws.

But apparently Mom had other ideas. She did not handle Dawg's preferences very well. (I mean Mom he could of been born that way!) She also had a problem with all the stray cats around our house. (My folks didn't have the scratch to pay a vet to fix our pets and well one thing just leads to another) So Mom made a call.

One day the dog catcher showed up at our house and loaded up as many cats as he could, our dog Sugar and Dawg. I knew it was one of those 'it had to be done' moments but I was broken hearted. I loved that freaky little dog even if he did smell like rotten dead animals all the time. Bike rides became less fun and I had to lean on myself to make sure no killer mutant chipmunks got the drop on me while i was swinging on wisteria vines.

Thinking about Dawg makes me want a puppy even more. A rescued mutt from the pound would be perfect. I will just have to make sure it is fixed and has no access to exotic chickens. Chris won't go for a pet like that in his house.

Life as I know it.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 14:09:00 +0000

Bare with me, I'm feeling froggy today.............

Ah, North Carolina. It's beauty, it's charm, it's romantic mystery, and it's unique brand of redneck. Yup this place grew me up and is part of what makes me the wonder I am today.

I'm an Oklahoma transplant and I noticed that gave me a little bit of a one up around here. My parents moved us to Brunswick county when I was five. A Kiowa Indian with his Okie wife gathered up their wild youngins and dropped them into the deep South. Sometimes I feel sorry for dad but I know that man had to have more laughs at the crazy locals than he had frustrations. Don't get me wrong. He had plenty of frustration but Southern redneck antics kept him entertained.

Of course if you grew up here the odds of you marrying a redneck can be pretty high. (unless you are my sister and prefer the exotic males from out west and get one specially ordered for you; she has always been a go getter). I did land me one and I marked him good. It also didn't hurt that I could lay out charm better than any born and bred Southern belle one minute and tromp through the swamp and talk to the animals like family the next. That is the kind of stuff that reaches into the hot blooded redneck male, grabs him by the nay-nays and makes his heart go pitter patter. Poor guy. He may have tried to shake me but I had a thing for tight jeans and he was scared of my dad.

Dad. My dad has a very slender build and is freakishly laid back. He had one thing going for him, he didn't look like he came from around them parts. His dark skin, black thick hair, quiet ways, eyes that could cut you to the quick and his heavy stache gave Chris some worry. So much worry that when I came up pregnant while still in high school Chris just knew Dad was going to seek retribution or jail time. He didn't know who's jail time it would be, but he just knew down to his toes there would be some. To this day Chris still treads lightly around Dad.

Now Chris isn't a down and dirty redneck; for lack of a better word he is an uppity redneck. He lives in polo shirts and slacks and constantly yearns for the next day to be spent at golf. He also made an interesting choice as his life work for a redneck. He is a photographer, and a very good one. When I met him he worked in the family business. A mom and pop hardware store with a pipe yard on the side. I will never forget riding up to the store with dad and seeing Chris lugging a large length of pipe on his shoulder because the fork lift was broken. I about swooned right there until Dad saw my reaction and hustled me right back into the car. That was my first and only ride to that store with Dad.

Chris also has an ear and heart for music. He can play a beautiful sax and a little piano along with several other instruments. Yup, a real renaissance redneck. His family is very Southern and even though I spent the past 11 years living among them like one of their own; I was in for some serious culture shock. I learned things that would forever be seared onto my brain and no amount of extensive therapy could ever make it go away. I was forced to make hog's head cheese by his very powerful grandmother. Mrs. Jimmy could take on any man any day of the week and you did not tell her no. I learned how to clean a deer and watch his dad use the empty skull as a puppet. His sister Shannon took me out spot lighting for deer on the back of a four wheeler while drunk out of our minds. I have also been made to help pick up road kill for dinner. I had nightmares after that, crazy upon crazy nightmares.

Just a taste of my childhood and teenage years. Someday when the urge hits me I will build on this, but for now I feel like I have slightly lifted the veil and found a small black mutt of a yard dog with a strange love for the neighbor's chickens. Dang! I miss that dog.

I will take Humiliation 101 for a $400 Alex.

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 22:11:00 +0000

Well we are breaking in the new church and of course a couple of things popped up. The one I am going to tell you about is the guest speaker. The church brought in a special speaker for a men's conference and had him speak to the church for Sunday morning worship followed up with a special premarital sex sermon Sunday night. Now guest speaker did forewarn the church about the evening's topic and of course the 'bull by the horns' mom I am I just had to hunt the poor man down and drill him on exactly what he was going to say. I forced a new found friend (who hasn't really talked to me since) to be my wing man while I interrogated God's man.

The Speaker reassured me that his speech would be fine for Laney and Andrea and will create starting points for us to begin such talks at home. Things like condoms (I gagged a little on hearing that), premarital sex ( the little me in my brain fainted) and STD's (I gasped when the little EMT's had to give the little me in my brain a shock with their itty bitty paddles). I also told him that I will bring my kids but I am making the youngest one color the whole time and for him not to get offended if I shove an iPod in her face to keep her busy. We made swift eye contact and came to a silent understanding. That this mom is in no way on God's green earth prepared to have that conversation with her girls.

I did have the talk with CJ but I didn't turn that corner till this past year and the kid is 17 for Pete's sake. I am also the mom that did this and I even threatened to pimp Chris out (admit it bald men are hot just ask that lady at Walmart). I just want to keep the sweet wall of innocence up around my girls for as long as I can. On the flip side it is prudent to give your child a proper view on sex before the kids at school really mess your kid up!

So we went to church and I spent most of my time constantly pointing to Laney to color more. Guest Speaker gave out an amazing amount of statistics. So many that I did some glazing over but when he started talking about teenage mothers I tuned right in because I'm superficial that way. Mostly because I am a teenage mom and sweat drops of blood hoping my kids don't follow in those footsteps.

Speaker laid out that teenage moms have a high rate of suicide, are most likely to drop out of high school, and most likely do not have a on going relationship with the father of their child. Teenage dads also have a high drop out rate, also teenage dads under stress of new parenthood will end the relationship with the mother and indirectly effect their relationship with their child. You also need to think of the long term debt that was just placed on teen dad from the child support checks.

So what do I do when Speaker is laying out these grim statistics? Well with all honor and respect (snort) I lean over to Chris and give a wide toothy grin. "Hey we beat the statistics" and reach out my fist for a pound. Chris snickered with me and gave me a bump.

Not the greatest thing to do during a fiery sermon about sex while your teenage son is sitting next to you and right by his side is his girlfriend and her mom. Still mighty funny none the less.

Then right that evening God decided to pay me back for that slight moment of self gloating in His house. (See Big G, I do notice when you bring out that big bat, knock me on the head, and say "Listen up") When we got home and of no will of my own I asked Andrea if she had any questions about the sermon. Andrea instantly piped up and said "What is sex?".

My mommy radar instantly went off. I pretty sure the kid knows what sex is. For the past two years I have signed those sex ed forms and sent my innocent darling off to school to let the government do the dirty work for me. This kid just found a way to make momma talk and make sure she comes out smelling like roses. Dang! God and Andrea played me.

So not missing a beat I sat her down at the kitchen table with the BIOLOGY book. If Andrea wanted to play the game than dang it, momma is going to win. I discussed some basic anatomy, form and function and pregnancy. Just lightly touched on them just so sex could be explained. Poor girl she couldn't run away fast enough and Chris kept tip toeing around ringing his hands while his wife just crushed his baby girl's world.

I think we all came back from that evening with some slight scarring and a new mission for life. I am going to move heaven, hell, earth and that 500 lb man that waits for the city bus off of Cliffdale before I break Laney's little protective shell. Nope not going to do it. Can't make me.

I am so going to tell!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 08 Feb 2011 20:02:00 +0000

It is rare to find both people in a marriage addicted to the same thing. Not only are Chris and I addicts we are addicted to a very embarrassing thing. Also our girls partake in this. As parents this may be the lowest we have ever been. Deep breath.

Chris and I are hooked on the Ipod/Ipad Smurfs application.

Take a breath and really let that sink in. We could be jonesing for fixes from a whole world of games, anything you name it, but we picked Smurfs. And you know what else; I hate it. I hate the little blue excessively chipper Lilliputians.

Papa Smurf nags and constantly has annoying little task to do. Smurfette is a hussy. She will pay me in gold coins and "experience points" for each Smurf she blows kisses to, and she gives me more for each Smurf she shows a little action to at one time. There is also Grouchy Smurf and I think the other Smurfs should search his mushroom house for any illegal prescription drugs, because Dude is seriously messed up. He even walks around with a storm cloud and lighting hanging over his head.

Now here is the real embarrassing part. Smurfs is just Farmvile dressed up in a blue body suit wearing tight little white pants with footies. Farmville. Crap! Why couldn't it be a killing zombies game or a midget wrestling safari? (Hey a midget wrestling safari sounds really good)

The Smurfs spend their day farming various vegetables. There is also some mini-games but they just make me want to claw my eyes out. The girls seemed to really enjoy the games when we first got it but now they are tired of me following them around begging them to play my Smurfs for me. So why play it if I hate it so much.

Because I am ahead of Chris. Plain and simple. I'm only ahead by a hair(snicker) and I will do what ever it takes to stay ahead. He doesn't make it easy. Chris is hot on my trail with his little blue bloodhounds. It is only a matter of time before he tells me I have been pwned with Smurfberries! Until then. I. Am. Ahead!

I am the winner! Now somebody check on mommy's brussel sprouts!

Coming Out

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 15:40:00 +0000

I have been very absent from this blog because I'm lazy and a lot of the things that have been going on are just not appropriate to talk about. I know that these are subjects not to throw out mindlessly but I also feel like I am not allowing myself to just be myself. So here is a quick drive by dumping of various things just to let off a little pressure.

Since Robbie died our lives have had all kinds of upheaval in various places. I wish my family was closer emotionally and geographically. I was scared to death of those Drag Queens and so very ashamed of the things I witnessed. I am trying desperately to speak like a lady. (snort) My husband makes me my motor run (sometimes away). If he doesn't go back to college this summer I will brand my name on his buttocks. My caboose shrunk then re-grew. I am afraid of going back to college. I need to go back to the doctor. Our little family has become more self-centered and it's a good thing. I miss friends but some of them I could never be in a friendship with ever again. Greece! Depression. I love teaching my Wednesday night class. Holy costume party! Batman she is in puberty! I can't shot my new pistol because my eyes are so bad.

See a pile of odds and ends was just what I needed.

Driving the Bus

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 15:43:00 +0000

So as a late birthday gift to myself, my body decided to get a stomach bug. Yup, I really know how to treat a girl.

Unfortunately because of feeling ill I had to cancel a lunch date with Laney today. We were suppose to partake in some sushi from the Ichiban in Hope Mills just to gross out her classmates. (Who knew Karma worked before you even get to act?) Laney was so excited and I had to call the school to ask them to relay the message to her for me.

My loving friend Beth answered the phone at the school and mildly scoffed at me for feeling ill. Loving my butt! She laughed. LAUGHED! I told her it was all those diseased children at her school and she laughed some more. Dang lady! I just need to you relay the message to Laney for me.

No when I drive the bus all I can think of is Bill Murray telling the groundhog to not drive angry. Screw you Bill.
I am going to main line some Gatorade.

Hungry Like a Wolf!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 17:00:00 +0000

CJ and I were having another one of our all mature and grown up conversations. "Mom I want a white tiger for a pet". I reminded him he would need a special animal license, that there is only like 100 white tigers left in the world and that I would probably shot it and make a rug for the living room. "I like tigers and that would be a really neat pet". (Translation: CJ wants it so he can use it to pick up chicks)

("You can date him. He has great personality. Tiger's Honor!")

Then I remembered the tiger story and CJ said I should write about it; so here ya go.

Once upon a time in a small country town called Shallotte in a swamp filled county called Brunswick. There lived some traveling circus gypsies that lived just up the dirt road from my parents house. (No lie they really were circus gypsies) The circus gypsies rented a home on the part of the road that come up to a modest hill. It was a big deal to muscle your way up that hill on your bike so you can soar back down again and pretend you are riding at a top notch, even possibly 30 mph, speed! (dude I was a kid and 30 mph seemed outrageously fast)

The circus gypsies had tigers............did you get that? I use to have tigers as next door neighbors. Top that, sucka! Anyway one day mom and I had some strange idea to take CJ (my one year old) to go see the tigers. Mom talked with the gypsies while I let CJ REACH THROUGH THE BARS AND PET THE TIGERS. Yup, teen motherhood at its' finest folks.

We got to watch the gypsies feed the tigers, ask all kinds of questions, and strolled back home. All in all it was a nice friendly visit and nobody got maimed. We felt sorry for the gypsies because the gypsy dad was sick. He became ill while they were traveling and the gypsy sons decided to rent a modest low cost home in the country and give dad a rest. Unfortunately when they stayed in one place they made little income. The gypsy sons did a few odd jobs here and there but they were barely surviving.

We learned during our visit that the gypsies spent an outrageous amount of money feeding the tigers. Dad said they would buy crazy amounts of chicken from the grocery store for the tigers, roughly 75 lbs worth at a time. (that or they threw neighborhood BBQs and we weren't invited) I can't remember just how many tigers they had; probably because I am seriously ashamed of myself for letting CJ touch one. Pools of shame people!

Also near our home was the Carter Trading Post. Chris's grandparents owned it and it was the go to place for hard to find hardware, farm supplies and it had a pipe yard. Grandma and Grandpa Carter lived in a trailer just past the store and they raised a few cows. They had a pretty large open field that could comfortably keep about ten cows. It wasn't a large herd but it was just right to take the occasional cow to slaughter and fill up the freezer. (I will have to say those were some really good steaks!)

One day one of the cows got out of the fence, she wondered out onto the busy road, and well met its demise while scaring the crap out of some poor soccer mom. After the woman regained her composure she went into the Trading Post and proceeded to tell Grandpa Carter about the cow. Grandpa Carter,the soccer mom and a highway patrol man went to go find the cow and to get it off the road so no one else could get hurt........... but it was gone.

In the cows place was a nice road smear and then a trail of blood. A large trail of blood that went from the accident sight, past the store, down my dirt road, just left of my house, and up the steep hill to the circus gypsies. Being the enterprising young men that they were they saw a free tiger meal and they jumped on it. When Grandpa Carter found the end of the blood trail he came upon the gypsies feverishly cutting the cow up and feeding their livelihood.

You know when you eat salad all the time with every meal and then one night you decided on steamed veggies instead those veggies become the best veggies you ever had; you know because you are all tired of salad and really those were mediocre veggies but because it was something different you were all "Dang! What awesome veggies!" especially because you made an herb garlic butter sauce for the veggies, yup, those tigers were like that all "Whoa fresh beef chopped up in the yard instead of half frozen chicken!" and you know them tigers were in hamburger heaven. RUNON SENTENCE FOR THE WIN! Umm anyway.......

Grandpa was pretty steamed. How dare those gypsies steal his cow and not offer some money for it! In front of the patrolman Grandpa proceeded to rant at the gypsies but the patrolman pointed out that what the gypsies did was not illegal and Grandpa was responsible for the damage of the woman's car. I don't know how long Grandpa scolded the gypsy sons but I do know they didn't pay him any money. They did not have money. I am also not sure just how Grandpa settled up with the soccer mom. I hope he didn't offer her steaks.

Not to long after that the gypsy dad went on a walk and disappeared for a few days. The sons did eventually find him but during his stroll he had a massive stroke and he forgot where he lived. Gypsy dad had a few more walkabouts and one day the gypsy sons got word dad was in Florida. They packed up their tigers and cruised on down to Florida.

Personally I think Grandpa was nuts to yell at the gypsies. I guess has never heard of a gypsy curse. Hello!? Also I guess I shouldn't feel too ashamed of myself for letting CJ pet the tigers. Dad reminded me that sometimes the gypsies let kids walk around in the tiger pen and ride the tigers! I guess that should also make me feel better for sending Andrea to beg the neighbors for booze. No? Oh well I tried.

So that's the tiger story. I hope to one day find the highway patrol man report because, Dang!, you know that has got to be a good read.

Once Upon a Time in TiVo Land!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 17:30:00 +0000

So Tuesday night when I was settling into a the season premier of Tosh.0 I noticed I missed a call on my cellphone. I checked the voice mail and it was Dad and again he was movie happy. A while back we were talking about the movie Desperado and what little I remember from it. Mostly what I do remember is that is were my crush of Danny Trejo started. ( I think his tattoo is hot!)

Can't believe I just said out loud but it is so freeing. I will not be not ashamed. I add Danny to my strange alter of celebrity crushes, right along Gordon Ramsey and Dolph Lundgren. One day I will have some of their discarded bubble gum and hair clippings from their barbers to truly make a stalker's secret alter to be PROUD of!

Anyway back to Dad. He was calling to let me know that Once Upon a Time in Mexico was about to come on AMC and that maybe I should DVR it. I also think he was gently probing my DirectTV channel list to see what other channels I could be missing.

I found the movie to be absolutely hilarious. I mean yeah lots of gore and gun battle scenes but man lots of little funny jokes plugged in here and there. It also cements that I need to see El Mariachi in the near future.

One thing about Once Upon a Time. I found the Mickey Rourke character that kept going around with a chihuahua very creepy. shudders

Kitten?

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 00:09:00 +0000

So I am sitting on the couch enjoying a nice evening cup of DECAF coffee and dad calls my cellphone. "Hey do y'all get the G4 channel?" (Yup, I think the old man has lived in the south long enough. He is saying y'all)

The Way of the Dragon was on and dad wanted me to see the fight between Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris. "Yeah you can see Chuck Norris get his butt kicked. This is before Chuck Norris started shaving his chest." Dad sounds all kind of excited on the phone and Chris is flying through all the tv channels trying to find the G4 station.

And of course we don't have it!

How could we not have the G4 channel? That's a pretty neat channel and we don't have it. Oh well but I can't let go what dad said about a furry Chuck Norris. So I hop on the computer and cruise the YouTube to see what I can find and find I did.............................

Laney watched it with me and I told her that technically Bruce Lee is cooler than Jackie Chan. Laney says, "He is cooler because he defeats ever one". I of course just had to ask her why Bruce Lee was taking everyones feet. (She said de-feet) But she never really answered because she noticed THE KITTEN.

For some crazy reason the kitten gives a louder than normal kitten cry and that signals the fight to start. Also the kitten is sitting in a partially crumbled brick wall. Its perched on that wall watching the fight and it occasionally plays with a rock.

I just had to call dad and let him know that when Bruce Lee pulls a handful of Chuck Norris chest hair out and blows it off his fingers is beyond gross; and I just had to ask about that kitten. Why is there a kitten? Is it some how involved in this fight? Does it symbolize anything?

Dad had no answers he just wanted me to see the fight. Dang Bruce! What is with the kitten?

The day after Christmas Blizzard of 2010!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 01:33:00 +0000

So North Carolina with its sub-tropical climate got a rare showing of snow. We got 7 inches in our area and of course that meant some major playing was in order. Here in this photo I am wearing an insane amount of layers. I really don't own a heavy winter coat because I don't need one and I hate the feeling of the bulk around my arms. I know its weird but whatever. I also made the girls wear several layers and they have heavy weight winter jackets. They looked all fluffy but they were warm.

The view from the top of our driveway. That small tree in our yard is the Bubba Tree. It has shotgun shell Christmas lights and it just wouldn't be Christmas without it. Don't it look pretty in the snow?

This is THE snowball fight. CJ and I set up the empty lot next to our house with snow forts for an epic snow battle with some of the neighbors. Well it started out kinda like a snowball fight and ended with chaos.
Andrea was abandoned by all her team mates and she had to fight off the other team all alone.

Which is really sad since her team was made up of her, her siblings, and her best friend. CJ decided to slowly creep away. Laney was hiding in the trees and flat out refused to come out. Kayla was in her own world and made several snow angles while snowballs zoomed overhead. Shows who you can trust. Andrea kept battling on and only quit when she was forced to retreat several times over. Also by then the dads started pelting the kids with snowballs.

Here is Chris running away with several boys following him. He pegged some of them pretty hard and I was waiting for the other parents to say something but they seemed fine with it. After a while I decided my toes were way too cold and invited the other moms in for a cup of coffee. The kids came in also and ate their weight in sweets and then went out to play again.

That evening Chris and the kids decided to do a jigsaw puzzle and watch the marathon of NCIS. When it was time for bed all of us CRASHED. I also had some strange dreams about Chris dressed up as General George McArthur. What's up with that?

Christmas '10

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 00:51:00 +0000

Ah! Christmas morning. It was a nice laid back Christmas.

All three kids got new coats because I CAN'T stand their old nasty dirty coats!

Laney got THE gift this year. She has been wanting a Dippin' Dots maker for ever. She also now has the power to make her older siblings beg for a bowl of Dippin' Dots. Personally I can't stand them but Chris and the kids love this stuff.

Andrea ripping open some packages. The only thing she asked for was a bedside table. It took forever to find one that matched her room and fit in the small space between her bed and the wall.

Me wearing the holiday appropriate hoochie shirt. Yup this is the stuff my kids will talk about to their future therapist.

Laney also received the hot toy of the year. Zoobles. Already I loath the little plastic creatures.

We also had the traditional gingerbread house competition with the neighbors. The dads and the girls decorate a gingerbread house and who ever makes the prettiest one is the winner. Oh and also the winner gets to take a hammer to the losers house. Yup, we are classy like that.