TAKE your kids to a Concert

When it was just the hubby, our first born and I, we went to Disney World every year. Then we had two more kids and we watch Disney movies on DVD instead because they are just slightly less expensive than the trip.

When our son watched Barney 24/7 as a little guy, we added Universal Studios to our trip so he could see the real thing. I think he stopped watching Barney after that trip.

The day I came home from the hospital with our second born, I took the first one to the movies because the hubby thought he needed to know I was still there for just him.

A week later I took the first born who had been telling me how much he hated me to a live Blue Clues show.

(I couldn’t tell you one thing about either of those events except the little guy told me he hated me for having THAT baby on both of the rides home)

The hubby has camped out in front of the Game Store for the newest video game releases.

Our son has had nicer phones and gadgets than either of us have.

We have bought and re-sold mini-motorcycles, three and four wheelers and everything on wheels for the last 14 years. Unfortunately, I am pretty sure all of the wheels in this house will not pay for the third car we will soon have to buy.

The kids wear the name brands now and I get a new shirt at Target every few months. I think the hubby bought his last name brand clothing in the 90’s.

I am currently planning how I am going to spend my time in the car waiting while our son rides his bike at an indoor track in the middle of the NO WHERE all winter long.

But my latest #1 Mom moment occurred last night when I took our oldest to his first concert. My Chemical Romance and Blink 182.

I am a pretty hip momma – I love alternative rock music, know how to use and where to get the latest gadgets and feel like I keep up with the trends and times. When I bought the tickets a few months ago I was excited that this was a good mix of what we like and what our son likes.

I DID NOT however, think about WHAT THE HELL I WOULD WEAR TO A ROCK CONCERT (where the majority of the attendee’s are under 20.)

Like I said, I am trendy and hip in MY MIND, and I think I look OK , But I stopped shopping for trendy clothes when the kids needed clothed. This called for something a little more thought out than a Target T-Shirt. After an emergency meeting of the minds, the thoughtful hubby picked me up a Harley Davidson shirt that cost more money than the darn concert tickets.

The concert was at an outdoor arena and we paid top dollar for the parking and the low price for lawn seats. (typical adult thing to do) But when we got there and the darkening clouds were threatening a grassy mud fest on a steep hill, we upgraded our tickets and were able to sit right by the stage UNDER the pavilion. It never did rain, but the upgrade was worth it.
Travis Barker can play the drums like a mad man and I feel like I saw a little piece of history in the making.

Our son had a smile as wide as a dollar bill on his face the whole time.

And, don’t worry, our youth, despite the low pants, tattoo’s, dark clothing, and weird hair, they are just fine. I saw more drunk passed out people at the Dave Matthews concert last year than I did last night. The only people causing any kind problems were my age. The crowd was as amazing as the bands. I had needlessly prepped our son on what he might see at a concert and he didn’t see any of it (he must really wonder what we did when we were younger…..)

I had so much fun, and despite the ringing in my ears, and still seeing strobe lights when I blink, guess what I am doing tonight? Looking for the next concert to go to. It was that much fun. Even if I only had four hours of sleep and had to go to work today.

Moms and Dads – take your kids to a concert. Enjoy their music and interests. They fall from your tree, so there is bound to be some similarities in interests.

It was one of the best decisions I ever made.

For a little taste of what we saw you can check out this video:
http://youtu.be/qKGAnSZf23I
(posted by someone I do not know at same concert, who is much cooler than me (our vids didnt come out so good) Thanks!

What I Never want to Forget

I can still remember exactly what I was wearing that day. Mostly because I relate my clothes and shoes to memorable events. But I remember the exact skirt, jacket, blouse, shoes and purse.

I had a four and 1 ½ year old at home. The hubby and I were working opposite schedules. I worked during the day and he worked nights, but was up all day with the kids. I still don’t know how he did it.

The hubby, our girl on his shoulder and our boy in the Polo shirt with our neices and nephew close to this time

It was a beautiful morning. The kind of morning where you can’t imagine it being anything but beautiful anywhere else. I actually remember the sky being the most perfect color of blue.  I look at pictures taken on this day and notice a glimpse of perfect blue sky and it seems so odd.

 Work was a little quiet. So when the hubby called me, I happily answered only to hear him say- “Get to a TV NOW.”

We really didn’t have a TV at work that you would watch on a regular basis, but I knew there was a small one in the conference room that we sometimes showed videos on. I knew he was serious and I couldn’t get anything to come up on the internet. I could hear in the background his favorite TV program, Fox News very loudly and what seemed to be some chaos.

By the time I hung up, got the TV working in the conference room, several more of us had gotten similar phone calls from parents, husbands, wives, our clients.

We all gathered in the conference room at the same time and miraculously the phones stopped ringing from that point through the rest of the day.

When we turned on the TV it was the exact time that the second plane was hitting the second tower. We thought we were watching a re-play of the first hit. We all still thought that this poor plane was mis-directed somehow and was crashing through New York. Terrorists didn’t even cross our minds.

Within seconds we realized we had not just seen a re-play. We had seen real time horror.

It’s a blur from there. Our TV at home was on 24/7 for the next 7 days. We slept in front of it. We would periodically wake up and watch. When we finally did turn the TV off, the quiet bothered us so much and we felt so attached to all that was going on that we had to turn it back on again.  I felt like I was doing something wrong when I didn't have it on.

These are the things I remember. These are the things I never want to forget. I promised not to. Despite the devastation and shock, I never want to forget the sense of pride I felt to live in America, to have the President we had in that moment, to live in a country where men and women sacrificed themselves for our country, where firemen and police officers were only heroes, where people in a small town nowhere near the events stood outside waving flags at the cars as they drove past.

Sometime on day 2 or 3 we had little mini flags in the house – I have no idea where they came from, but my 4 and 1 year old took them outside to the porch and I watch as they stood there in their jammies and waved those flags at the cars as they drove by. I didn’t tell them to do this. Even more amazing, in the background was a rainbow.

Sometime on day 3 or 4 we noticed how quiet the sky was. I never noticed before that I was NOT noticing air traffic, I had become immune to it. But the lack of sound in the sky was deafening.

Sometime on day 4 or 5 there was a massive American Flag covering an entire wall at work. There was not one single house that I could see that did not have an American Flag waving. There was not one single car that did not have an American Flag print-out in their back window.

I miss those flags.

I miss the camaraderie we felt towards each other.

Years ago we watched a 9/11 documentary with our now three kids. One wasn’t even born and the other two really do not remember. Sometimes I wish they had been older. 9/11 made a difference in how I think and how I express my patriotism, but no amount of re-calling events can impress that upon them.

I do not want to forget EVER.

House PAINS

I fell down the stairs.

A good flying-up-into-the air-full body slam-down-thud-thud-thud kind of fall.

I heard a crack, cried, then did a combo laugh-cry.

The kids were horrified – including the quiet hardly-know-he-cares teenager. I had to throw in the laughing so they knew I was ok.

I realized pretty quickly the crack most likely was the step and not me. I just broke my pride and my back side. My bum is a lovely color of purple and blue and if the hubby casually smacks it one more time I may just have to casually …. ( I can think of a few equally torturous things to do)

This was a great excuse to spend an entire labor day on the couch in jammies watching movies. Unfortunately, we picked some really depressing ones (The Beaver, & Everything Must Go – don’t bother paying for those just catch them if they are ever on) but the one that I really liked was a documentary called The Elephant in the Living Room. This was amazing. However it was based in my state and now I am seriously worried about all of the exotic pet owners out there. Seriously, in Ohio alone, 15,000 lions are living amongst us. But watch the movie, it was really well done and probably hasn’t gotten the credit it deserves.

Then I spent an hour watching teeny tiny ants in my kitchen – not a lot of them. It is the strangest thing. They seem to come in from the window, just a few here and there and walk back out. We have had an exterminator out 3x since we moved in because I am a pest hater. I am still obsessing about the snake skin and the occasional spider that the kids will see, then tell me about but not quite know how to explain to me where to find it. I love that.

And then, this morning, I was looking for a pair of shoes.

I wish!

Let me explain shoes and me.

I love shoes. I have a lot of shoes. I take care of my shoes. When I was little I threw temper tantrums when my shoes got any kind of scuff or dirt on them.

I keep all of my shoes in their original packaging and boxes. I moved my shoes carefully, the boxes are labeled and in order by style and color and I looked in every single shoe box because I had to label them of course.

I have good feet. Shoes are the only guaranteed thing that will fit me and look good. Some people like jeans, jewelry or purses. I like shoes.

So I am in the cupboard where my shoes are kept, (in the basement - the largest cupboard I could find) and I am looking for the box that holds the particular shoes I wanted to wear today. I opened a box that I thought contained these particular shoes and just stared open-mouthed at (well, frankly I had NO clue what I was staring at) it appeared to be shoes. Once I settled, I realized the shoes I was looking at were completely covered in green fuzzy MOLD.

COVERED. Completley. My Shoes.

The box they were in was fine. The cupboard is fine. But now, three boxes later, more mold on my shoes.

I had called the hubby down to see, to console me in my nightmare, but that really didn’t go over well. It probably isn’t good timing at 6:30am to freak out about the discovery of moldy shoes, then tell him to not mess the order the boxes are in (because I did spend 3 hours putting them in that order) while he is trying to figure out what could have happened. Needless to say we argued. Loudly. At 6:30am with the windows open...

I had to leave for work. In tears. With three boxes of moldy shoes to drop off in the garbage on the way out the door.

And I have to call him to tell him to buy a dehumidifier for the basement and try to be nice while doing so.

Then thanks to my Mom who did actually console and understand my shoe plight (she was there for the temper tantrums when I was little and GETS it) found a home remedy of mixing alcohol and water to clean the remaining shoes.

Then I will move them somewhere else – I have no idea where and I didn’t just spend eight hours at work worrying about it (it was more like nine hours including drive time)

But it’s just shoes. I know this. I know there are a lot worse things in the world than some moldy shoes, a bruised butt, mysterious snake skin, invisible spiders, poop in the pool, and little teeny, tiny ants.

Like worrying about the 15,000 exotic pets living in Ohio that could get loose.

I mean it’s not unheard of that a Boa Constrictor would ever get loose right around the corner from me or anything….

It’s just shoes.

PS – One de-humidifier, a new home for my shoes in an upstairs closet, another call to the exterminator, and a good shoulder to cry on and I feel normal. Now if only I can find the body that goes with the snake skin and I’ll be fine… (and some new shoes, of course)

Does the Fair have Snake Charmer's do you think?

It’s Fair Time

Our county fair is this weekend and since we moved, we are now just down the street from its entrance. Not quite close enough to make money on parking on our lawn like all the other people are doing, but close enough to walk.

Doesn’t a county fair just make you feel good? Despite the itchy eyes, dust, dirt, mud, occasional slur, (I mean any hoot or hollar is kind of worth it)  and witnessing of gluttony, there is just something about a fair.

I love looking at the horses, and cows – well, it is kind of hard explaining to the kids to walk quickly in case of a kick, blow-out or gusher. It would be NICE even to see their heads and not their hinds, but still, the sheer size of those animals is cool to see even if you are speed walking through the barn.

Then there are the pigs, goats, sheep, chickens and bunnies. If you can stand the smell in the 100% humidity. I still imagine a Charlotte up in the corner of a stall somewhere…..

The food of course is always once in a year worthwhile. If you don’t mind the lack of napkins and place to sit and eat it properly. Just don’t wear a shirt you love. It might break the bank, but fair fries, funnel cakes, Italian sausage and lemonade are just so good and worth it.  (  I said we walked there, right?? )

This year I actually walked through the buildings where they had iron workers, tree carvers, quilters, weavers, broom makers, and candle stick makers. All the dying arts. This was helpful when trying to avoid the rides and games section. The kids were too tired and hot to complain about my rule when it comes to rides and games.

Did you know you can enter hay, wax carvings, bread, and photography into the fair?? Yes, HAY.

So tonight we are attending the Demolition Derby and if you know me you know that I have this weird love of destruction-sports – camper pulls, figure eight races, and demo’s.

And of course the kids have earned a few dollar bills for the games section that I have said no about a thousand times over.

But after a week of the following, a good old fashioned fair is exactly what a good psychiatrist would order:

We started the week with the third day of school and a call off already. Looks like we are going to have to cut milk out of my daughter’s diet and see if that works.

I had a few work days from hell and then one of my vendors sent me an email that was like reading the funniest blog post ever. I thought how dare he be wittier and funnier than I am, and he doesn’t even write a blog! But he did make me laugh out loud in the middle of a miserable day.

And then.......
and then folks - this is the real clincher of the week:

 I got a phone call from my daughter who claimed that she found some SNAKE SKIN on the floor of her bedroom. Of course I told her NOOOOO, it’s something else for sure.

After a little yes and no and your crazy’s,  I asked her to put her pessimistic brother on the phone. As predicted, as he walked to the crime scene he told me there was no way it was snake skin. And then, yes then, He said:
         “That’s definitely snake skin, Mom.

So I hung up and went back to work in complete denial.

When I got home the snake skin was in a plastic container and the scene of the crime-  my daughter’s American Girl Doll bed,  was shown to me.


ARE YOU KIDDING RIGHT NOW?? I have a snake in my house????

This so called skin was definitely the real thing. American Girl Rebecca could have a nice pair of snake skin shoes if she wanted to!!

This house of mine, that I adore…. is giving me something to write about isn’t it?

A freaking snake in the house. Somewhere, lurking.

You know, I have cleaned this house from top to bottom several times. We have been in every nook and cranny. Where on earth is this snake??

So now I am on my way to the fair to try to relax, to try to stop my nervous break down…. And to make sure no one gets their shoes dirty while finding a snake charmer.....

and I thought Maple Queen was bad......

My IS

Do you ever wonder what you would do if you were just you alone in the world? No hubby, no kids. I do not mean this is what I WANT. I love my life and wouldn’t change it.

Sometimes I just think about what I would do to remind myself that I am an individual as WELL as a Mom, Wife and Co-worker. It’s good to think what I would do without those responsibilities and then maybe I could fit some of that in my life now.

I know people who do exactly that. They train and run in marathons, work and are Moms. They cook, they travel, they adopt abused animals, write books, Climb Mountains, and paint.

I write a blog – whoop-de-doo. The people above do this too, that’s how I know they do all the other stuff. I work full time, I am a Mom and a wife but maybe I should take the individual me out, shake off the dust and start something.

When I drive by any small cottag-y house with a postage stamp yard or even a field of grass, I picture my individual self (from here on out otherwise known as my IS) there. I do not need a lot of space. I need the smallest kitchen ever – I would never cook if it were just me. In this scenario, I run some kind of small home town shop/store/restaurant. Everyone in town knows me. I do all my own repairs, drive an old vintage pick-up truck. I take vacations alone to places like Montana, Maine, Northern California. I have a large dog. I write. I take amazing photographs and I speak French. I wear jeans and t-shirts and vintage dresses. I am tan from riding my vintage bike everywhere I go. I know a thing or two about engines, plumbing, carpentry and even roofing. I am not afraid to get dirty. I have tons of friends and am rarely alone.

When I visit the city, I look at the tall buildings and I see a window into my IS life. I picture myself always in a sharp skirt and heels. I carry a briefcase, the latest in electronics and I have mastered looking cool, calm and collected 24/7. I work non-stop, and am always on the move. My work takes me to Italy, Ireland, New York, and Chicago. My apartment is a walk-up, with a doorman. I do not own a car. I know how to play blackjack, poker, order a drink, hail a cab, and negotiate the lowest pricing on just about anything. I never cry and I never get attached.

Both of my IS appeal to me.

Both are nothing like me right now.

When you drive by a white house in a small town, you might see a girl in capri’s and a hoodie. She drives a Honda Odyssey, works 8 -5 and keeps her house immaculate. She has called off of work as many times as you have fingers since the day she was 15. She has three kids, two cats because her kids were sad and a hubby whom she has known since high school. She reads, she writes, visits with friends when she has time. She skips vacations to pay the bills and has never been overseas. The things she is good at aren’t things you can really be recognized for.

Who is your individual self?

I never did get to be the line leader.

I moved half-way through Kindergarten to a new town and a new school. I got there just in time for the big circus production where the teachers thought it was fun for the kids to be circus animals. I really wanted to be a dog that jumped through the hoola hoops, but it wasn’t meant to be.

I am the palest child on the left side, middle row

In first grade I was happy that my teacher had more freckles than I did. I had a lot of freckles but she was COVERED in them. We had a freckle bond and I ended up becoming her babysitter years later. I am pretty sure this was also the year that I lied to the cafeteria lady and told her we had gone to Germany on our spring break. It worked out great until she had my older brother a few lunch periods later.

For some reason we were all into catching flies.  Yes that is me to the left of the teacher.

Second grade was the year I got my glasses. Freckles, glasses and moon boots. I would have traded a pair of crutches for all three in a heartbeat.

In third grade I accidentally swallowed one of the little space guys that floated in my water pen. I was kind of panicked about that one. But then my new jeans made my legs turn blue and I thought I was dying for an entire day. I might have been a hypochondriac that year.

Fourth, Fifth and Sixth grade I spent a good amount of time being the go-between for the boys who liked my friends. That and fielding the never-ending prank calls. It wasn’t quite as embarrassing as when my Dad fought the school board for the bus to come down to our house on the street instead of us having to walk. He rode the bus a few times and then made the school pick my brother and I up in a school owned utility van.

In seventh grade I got contacts, boobs and my first French kiss behind the local library. But it still didn’t score me any dates. I might have had (1) Love is…… on the back of a hand.

In Eighth grade –I finally felt normal looking for the first time – my hair was huge, my shoulder pads were puffy and I could cuff my jeans with the best of them.

I learned in high school that the senior prank was to remove the Letter C from the school name. So in all the other schools we were known as Hard-on High ALL the time, whose mascot wore lederhosen. (the intimidating Hilltopper)

I had to take Driver’s Ed through the school program that was free, so I spent an entire semester eating my lunch in the back seat of an AMC Eagle listening to Rush Limbaugh on AM radio. I managed to not throw up one time and passed my driving test with flying colors.

bottom row, third from the left - just trying to squeeze those shoulder pads in.....

When I won prom queen my senior year someone yelled “I want a re-count!"

Not the year I won - CLEARLY wasn't ready....

My freshman year of college I drove an Aries K car that everyone called Milky. This car was towed every single Saturday of a home football game because I would forget to move it out of the parking lot our dorm shared with the stadium. I had to babysit to pay the fines, which would have been OK, except I could never get to the jobs without my car.

I failed my first college class because of a boy. He got an A.

I had my first sexual harassment experience in college when I interviewed to be a professor’s assistant. I should have known when the interview was in his home and there were no lights on.

I am so glad my school years are over. I am one person who never, ever dreams of going back. In fact, my nightmares are focused around school.

But for all the kids going back to school this week, I wish you luck and the least amount of embarrassment possible.

They seemed to have gotten the good genes.

Dog Days of Summer

or is it CAT days?

 Too much to do to really just sit down and write lately.  So here is a quickie update: (I know how you all love a good quickie) and a chance for you to give me lots of SOLICITED advice!

The hubby spends a lot more time in the yard than either of us ever realized was possible.  It really never ends. Kind of hard to ignore the weeds when you own them, but I am getting a little jealous of the way he fondles the bushes lately.

The kids hate the color of wood floors we picked out so I'll ask you what you prefer - (the wood floors are just a dream plan at the moment, we are putting it out there into the universe that we want them, WHEN we get them is the real question - but I like to plan in advance.)

My choice

Two out of Three kids prefer



Compromise?

Update: The snake was found - in the yard where he came from- which makes me look really stupid for cautiously checking every nook and cranny for a few days - YES, even the toilet.

Update: The pool pooper was found and unfortunately he is spending some time away for awhile. Not just for this reason and it's really kind of sad.  We did get an apology letter from him  -whether he was forced to write or not, it did have have some sincere qualities.  My question is now - Do we write back or just leave it? 

I have been dreaming of decorating for fall/Halloween - I cannot wait.  Is Labor Day weekend really too early?? I promise not to wear white pants while decorating if you prefer.

The kids are getting ready for school  (I mean I am getting them ready) - I spent one night too many in a dressing room and I'm OVER it. I HATE clothes shopping.  I get all sweaty and annoyed in the store and I can't seem to focus.  My kind of shopping is going to a small town and walking fairly quickly in and out of boutique shops.  But the thought of going to the mall gives me anxiety.  I hate Kohl's or anything similar. I typically only go to Target, but gosh darn it those kids are starting to need real clothes that can only be bought in real stores......   This is when I dream of having a personal assistant who would take the kids shopping while I got a pedicure or something...... 


My sister in law talked the girls and I into getting feathers in our hair for fun before school starts.  Yes, it's the new thing and it's really kind of fun! 

I have accumulated a few more favorite vintage things along the way:

Love the RED suitcases!  The picture is from my Dad's family home

$2 scale and FREE vintage toaster

One just wasn't enough

My Mom found the glass piece and the cookie was hand made by my son when he still loved me - you know, before he turned 14.....

Hope your summer is wrapping up nicely !