Summer is almost over

Enough of you have asked why I haven't blogged that I decided to try and post something. Without going into lame excuses I'll just apologize to my faithful readers for the lack of reading materials lately.

It's hard to write anything comical or meaningful when the writer's mind is so full of "what ifs..." that there is no room for anything else.

Let's see, our neighbors have been writing vulgar and inappropriate notes to my girls and leaving them on our mailbox. I have intercepted them, so my kids have not seen these horrible pieces of vomit these neighbors are trying to spew on my children. As a mother I feel like pounding on these kids a little. They don't have a mother that would be receptive to any of my overtures of concern...she seems to be slightly childish too. They girls on their own have decided they don't want to play with these kids given the regular verbal onslaughts they receive from these demons in children's clothing.

The "F" Word

I know this title will raise some alarm in my traditional, conservative readers. But this is too good to not post. (Mostly because I don't ever want to forget it myself.)

The other day I was singing that song from "Tommy Boy," "Fat guy in a little coat...." to my very thin husband. I was just making a joke about something I barely remember right now when Kayci comes running in and says: "Ummmm mom said the "F" word." (You see, in an effort to keep the girls from obsessing about being fat or thin or others being fat or thin I just banned the word Fat from all conversation. I figure it is going to be a problem as they reach their teenage years when all tiny girls become fat in their imaginations. But for now, we consider it a bad word around here.) Everyone knew what Kayci was talking about except apparently Courtney. She said completely innocently, blue eyes wide with concern, "What....huck?"

I am so glad that Courtney is still struggling with her phonic pronunciations. (Especially the differences between the "H" sound and the "F" sound).

She really may just be a pretty face.

Birthday #36

I am officially 36. Like it or not I am on the down hill slide to 40. Crazy to think about, because my mom was 36 once and I remember it oh so clearly:

The year was 1986, the oil industry was once again on a down turn and my dad was a casualty. I was in 7th grade and mom and dad announced that we would be moving from my beloved Tulsa, Oklahoma to sunny southern California ; my whole world was turned upside down. If there could be drag marks left on pavement by a teenage girl's lack of enthusiasm all the way across the country, I would have left them because I REALLY did not want to move. Now, I still do believe that God is sovereign over everything and at this late stage in my life I can look back and say that it was a great thing that we moved here. But when my mom was 36 and I was 13, it seemed like a bad idea. I didn't handle it well, and I don't think my mom handled it well either. We both did the best we could with what we had to work with. Thinking back, 36 seemed a lot older back then. I don't feel like the grown up my mother was expected to be back when she was my age now. I still feel, so often, like a little kid who is going to get in trouble at any time for sleeping in the same bed with a BOY and taking care of children as if they were my own. Any minute someone is going to walk in the door and say, "Jennifer R. Seymour, you get back home now!!"

But alas, it hasn't happened and when I look in the mirror at my wrinkles, slightly graying hair, tired eyes, I realize that this is real. I am a grown up. I am 36. And someday my children will be writing about how weird I was when I was 36. And believe me they will have a lot to write about. (Or possibly talk about with a well qualified and licenced professional).

Mother's Day

Today I played hookie from church. Courtney also stayed home with me. As most of you know, Courtney is a character. She becomes more and more a character everyday. She is funny and surprisingly witty. I could keep this blog current daily with the weird and amazingly funny things she says and does. Also, if you know Courtney well, you will also know she loves to draw. She is constantly drawing pictures, and she has elaborate stories that go with each one. In school she is learning to read and sound out words to spell them on her own. She has actually gotten surprisingly good at writing words by just sounding them out. Today she decided to combine all of her favorite things into one culminating event. She very studiously drew a picture of God and His angels hanging out in heaven. She sounded out "I like God, I see God, Go, God, Go." She carefully folded the paper and handed it to me. Thinking it was something for me I asked her, like I usually do, to tell me about it. She very abruptly said, "Give this to God when you die!!" I was a little taken aback by this and said, "Is that going to be soon?" She simply said, "uh huh," and skipped away. Later on I asked her when she thought I was going to die and she said in about 100. I said, "100 years?" She said, "No, 100 days."

Now I am wondering, is she a prophet? Should I be worried? She seemed so sure.

Happy Mother's Day...I hope all of my favorite mothers out there were not told they were going to die by one of their offspring today. I hope it was a great day for all of you who have dedicated your lives to being moms.

Sometimes Life Seems Just Right

It is Thursday night and I have been so anxious to sit down and write about one of the single most thrilling experiences of my life. It has taken so long, because while visiting my parents it turns out they don't have a wireless router in their home. How was I supposed to stay caught up in such primitive surroundings?

So for the great event...besides having children, realizing the truth about a God that loves me and forgives me over and over, and seeing Roger Federer in person, this past Sunday evening was one of the greatest events in my entire life. Thanks to my favorite blogger Jodie's husband, and Jodie's very understanding nature, I was asked to be a seat filler at the Academy of Country Music Awards in Las Vegas. While seat filler may not sound very glamorous, it was EXTREMELY glamorous. Thanks to a cute black cocktail dress and really stunning red high heals and seats right next to the likes of Leanne Rimes, Jamey Johnson, Carrot Top, The Oakridge Boys, Matthew Maconaughey, four rows from Taylor Swift, Kelly Pickler, Carrie Underwood, Kenny Chesney and the Great George Straight, I experienced glamour like I have never experienced in my life. I was actually sitting with, listening to their comments about each other, and pretending to be one of them, while watching the greatest Country talent of our time preform so closely I could see them spit. It was awesome!! It was so awesome.

Not only did I get to see so many great performances, but I got to share it with my good friend Tana!! She's such a good friend she even switched shoes with me for a while because I just could no longer stand the pain that these very adorable shoes were causing me. Of my circle of friends, I don't think any of them love and appreciate country music as much as Tana does, so she shared my excitement for each celebrity we encountered. I didn't have to act like it was no big deal. We shook and squealed like little girls meeting the Jonas Brothers. We were unashamed of our heart palpitations as Matthew sat down RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!! Tana shared my high pitched whisper as Trace Adkins took his seat right behind us. And she never got tired of me saying, "I can't believe we are here!!" Because when I wasn't saying it, she was saying it. She was the perfect person to share this experience with.

We ate a yummy dinner at PF Changs and happened to sit next to some of the members of the Westpoint Glee Club that sang behind Trace Adkins. We walked part of the strip, while my feet throbbed and complained, and ended up at a club called PURE at Caesar's Palace. Not my scene at all, but I tried for the sake of the one who invited me to this wonderful event. However, people dancing in close proximity to each other and spilling alcoholic beverages everywhere makes me stressed. Tana and I slowly (remember my shoes?) headed back to our room, were hit on by a drunk Brazilian on our way, but made it to our room with my feet and shoes still attached...barely. We made some comment while I was soaking my badly deformed feet about staying up and talking all night...

....not another word was spoken until 10:00 am the next morning. Tana and I are real party animals.

But don't ask me if I took any pictures....me, the queen of taking too many photos, threw away my batteries out of fear of not getting into the show at all. They said no cameras!! I hoped that if I proved my camera was not usable they would let me in anyway. After all the fear they put into me about having a camera, the metal detector never went off and no one searched my bag. EVERYONE was taking pictures. So, the girl who takes pictures of EVERYTHING did not get one picture of this amazing experience. Not one. It is especially sad, because the shoes I wore were really, really cute and I will NEVER, EVER, wear them again.

It was an amazing experience. Not one I will soon, if ever, forget. And for all the days that I am stressed and worried about decisions that need to be made, finances that need to be figured out, and children that need my very best, on this day life seemed to be just right.

So...

I was just sitting here at church doing my taxes. (Hoping the environment would keep me honest.) When my youngest asked a very thought provoking question:

"Mom, does your tummy get big right away after you kiss or does it take a long time?"

I'm not sure where she got this bit of information on how babies are made, but maybe it will keep her from kissing boys for a little longer.

My kids might be a little sheltered, but I was relieved to find out they aren't too far behind. At Haley's 10 year old sleep over the other night, one of her birthday cards mentioned the word puberty. She was reading all of her cards out loud to prolong the joy of opening presents. My heart skipped a beat when she read this word, wondering what was going to come next...but to my relief every single girl there said, "What's puberty?" My quick wit responded with, "You'll find out sooner then you think." That was enough for all of them and a near catastrophe was avoided. By catastrophe I mean me trying to explain to a bunch of pre-teen girls that soon they would be menstruating, growing breasts, and how great it all is because that means they will be ready to have babies. Yes, I believe that string of information was waiting in line in my brain right behind, "You'll find out sooner then you think," trying to push its way to the tip of my tongue and into the ears of this eager learners.

My kids are telling me they are bored, while nearby lies a large pile of barbies, a game boy, and a leapster. I am giving them a writing assignment that they will never forget. I will teach them to tell me that they are bored. Each of them will be writing, in age appropriate terms, a list of all of the toys, games, and imagination capabilities they have access to at any given time. Haley will be writing 3 paragraphs from this list, Kayci will write one paragraph from this list, and Courtney will do a detailed drawing from this list.

I am so mean...but I hate when kids say they are bored. I HATE IT especially when I am trying to do my taxes.

I told Kayci to leave me alone and use her imagination because I had to work on some grown up stuff. She complained that I didn't HAVE to do it right now; her exact words, "It's not illegal to NOT do your grown up stuff."

"Ha, Ha, Ha," I laughed. "I will go to jail if I don't do and pay my taxes; I'm serious Kayci I will go to jail and dad too." The look on her face said she believed me. I just wonder why my conservative clones didn't quip, "Not if you're in the inner circle of the Obama administration."

Thank you ladies and gentlemen...I'm here all week!!

Allergies and Other Lessons

As I type this at this late hour my eyes are almost completely swollen shut. Not from a beating I may or may not have deserved from my life partner, but rather from a self induced allergy attack. I am waiting for the Benadryl to kick in so I won't bug Steve with my sneezing and blowing and itching and groaning. I have had allergies now for about.....as many years as I have a memory. I have always been allergic to anything with fur, especially fluffy, soft fur like one may find on a cat or a cute little BUNNY. This is nothing new. I went over to my friend Tana's house to participate in the book club that I quit two months ago (ha, ha) and decided to make friends with her bunny Theodore. He is a mini-lop and so friendly. For those of you who have known me for a long time you will remember that I once had a mini-lop named Bunnel who was my best friend in Boston. She was given to me by one of my science students and quickly bonded to me. We spent many happy evenings together while Steve was off at school and I had no one else to talk to. I built up a kind of allergy tollerance to her because we lived in such close proximity to eachother. I loved Bunnel and Bunnel loved me until I had Haley and Bunnel was moved outside. Then Bunnel met our dog Dori, and well that relationship turned out to be fatal for my sweet Bunnel. (And that's all I have to say about that.) Anyway I got down on the floor to relive my memories of Bunnel with Theodore. He loved being stroked and sat very contentedly. I reminded myself not to touch my face under any circumstance after touching the bunny. I did pretty well until I got home and dropped my guard. When I see my cozy bed, beckoning me so invitingly, I immediately have to rub my eyes and not 10 seconds later the itching started. I didn't immediately figure out it was allergies, so I continued to rub one eye and then the other. Steve at one point said I looked like a football player and encouraged me to look at myself in the mirror. (He adores me, he really does.) The the eye itching became so intense that I remembered my encounter with sweet Theodore and searched for my Benadryl. The people who package Benadryl have obviously never had problems with allergies, because it is the most frustrating thing to open when your eyes and your nose are dripping and your adrenalin is making it impossible to open the teeny tiny package. I finally decided to get out my small trimming scissors and cut the packaging off of this precious pink pill of relief This proved to be difficult too, but I finally got the pill out only to drop it in my very cluttered, and open, makeup drawer. So with eyes swelling and shutting, nose running, sneezes overcoming my very existence, I began to search through my make up drawer looking for this tiny pill. I found it, took it with a stale cup of water that I found on the counter and here I sit, waiting for the relief only Benadryl can provide. It was/is an adventure. Maybe when I turn 36 I'll remember that I have allergies and it is NEVER a good idea to touch bunnies.

As for other lessons: 1. Men always make jokes anytime you say the word "Balls," even if you are talking about tennis balls.
2. The most unlikely people can pour such wisdom into your life if you are willing to take the time to listen.
3. Good friends really make everyday a little bit easier.