boo.
I took my kids to the children's museum the other day.
It was cool, with vacuums on the wall and a pillow fight room.
a true mattresses on the wall filled with pillows- room.
It's interesting, the people that hang out at the children's museum.
Like the mom, who forgot that she was going out in public and wore
Lycra bicycle shorts and a faded green tank top. The tank top didn't respect
the fact that her belly was supposed to be covered. A bra would have been nice too.
It gets cold in there.
Her little boy was about 4. And when he fell backwards into the pile of soft foam blocks,
it was the end of the world.
For her.
She picked him up, and rocked him, kissed him, cuddled him, whispered sweet nothings, and loudly spoke about how he had fallen backwards.
(um on his ass where it's cushioned. He didn't care until she went beserko.)
Then I ran into Grandma. As we left the awesome pillow fight room, I saw a pair of pink high tops.
Pink converse with a brown strip up the back. Absolutely adorable.
I said to Grandma, "what cute shoes!"
I must have been speaking ding dong-ese
because she grabbed them from their spot a foot away and clutched them to her lap.
Apparently she thought I said "Oh my god I will snatch your grandchild barefooted and stuff you inside the port-a-party music booth just so I can have those amazing million dollar shoes." Or something like that. I guess I should have told her how being a shoe klepto is in my past. I am a changed woman.
The museum staff is friendly. Especially the one playing with the TV. Her crack was playing peek a boo with all the children. As in her buttcrack. For at least a half hour. I guess it take a rocket scientist to realize that crack at a children's museum is a no-no. Crack of any kind.
We went to lunch afterwards. Where the organic burger restaurant is on the list as kid friendly. But for $9 a burger with no fries, nothing is friendly. I settled for walking my children pass the homeless man dancing and gesturing and perhaps humping the pretzel counter, before we settled on Steak Escape. I win mother of the year for that.
I could go on and on. But I won't. People are crazy. Let's leave it at that.
but it was fun. Crazies and all.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Summer quilt.....
Looky what's finished. Remember that pile of yellow lovin' from oh... march? Yeah... I finally did something with it. I wanted a quilt for me, for my kiddos. For them to see when they are old and gray and it will take them back to picnics at the beach, soccer games, softball, and just happiness. And countless hours of booger wiping.And I mean really, yellow oozes happy.
Here it is in all it's yellow glory on the back lawn.
Up close the hodge podge of happiness.
The back, with a ray of sunshine peeking out, and a quote.....
Up close in your face yellow happiness....
And the quote... "Today will be the best day."Because it will.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
No words....
They say life is like a book. That it is the chapters that tell your story, bits at a time. A lot of the time, stories flow on so smoothly, you don't know when a chapter ends and the next begins, and honestly, most of mine are like that. I am quite content with that. And sometimes, whether it's wanted or not, the chapter writes it's own ending, and and the hard part is learning to be content with that too.
It's about a boy. When you're a teenage girl, it's always about a boy, or so it seems. He hung back from the crowd, a silent observer, it was obvious it was not his idea to be going to a week long summer camp. Just his luck that he was placed in the van with the two most talkative, goofy girls in the group. Just her luck that he laughed when they offered him teen magazines. A friendship was born over shoving candy wrappers into people's pillowcases, and junk into their luggage. The next few days the boy and the girl hung out, every waking moment between group games, hanging out at the food store, going to chapel. She noticed how tall he was, with brown sparkling eyes. She noticed the way he would look at her and tilt his head sideways. How he didn't mind the obnoxious golf pants she wore from the local thrift store. He told her he liked the piggy tales she wore, and waited for her for hours one afternoon while she laid in her bunk with a migraine. He held her hand at the lunch table, and laughed at her when she had to eat an entire lemon.
And then he kissed her. On a starry night, on a hillside in the forest. She remembers every word that was said that night. It was every bit a summer camp romance should be.
They went home and remained close. Remained boyfriend/ girlfriend. They spent hours together, and hours apart. He made choices that kept them apart, and yet they exchanged letters often. He made choices that kept them close, and they still exchanged letters. They spent time at the beach, in the pool, the mall, the park. The movies, ice skating, sitting on a hill, hours of talking. Hours of laughing. Being a teenager in love allows you to love someone for all the simple things. Before hearts are hardened and cautious.
They were different, he was the "bad boy", she was the "good girl". He was known for getting into trouble, she walked a line far out of that realm. They were drawn to each other, even though he would sink, and she only knew how to swim. She loved him because although people could find reasons not to, she found reasons she could. He taught her lots. She held his hand while he struggled with life, she learned the importance of just being there. She learned when things just plain suck, you can always find something to laugh about. He kept a letter in his wallet she wrote him, when he was going through a rough time. She had no idea he kept it there until one day he pulled it out, worn and creased from having been read- often it seemed, and he told her why. That it had meant that much to him what she had to say about him, and who she knew he was. She learned at that very moment, the importance of words, and letting people know their value in this world, and their value, even if it's just to you.
Months went by, and the boy and girl went separate ways. It was time. Still they remained friends. He would call her, she would call him, they would hang out. Every time seemed like old times. They tried dating again, and it didn't work out again. Friendship suited them better. If anything, even though the romance had faded away, the friendship remained. That's where the story ends. Not all romances end on happily ever after. Sometimes they are just a marker on the pathway to a soul mate.
Life went on, they both married others and had kids. They always kept tabs on each other through other people, one asking about the other, and happy that life had been kind to both. They ran into each other a few times, and exchanged small talk and smiles. The end.
A few days ago....
She had recently learn that the boy was struggling and had tragically passed away. That he was hurting inside too much to remain in this world any longer. He had struggled for so long. It's just sad. In so many ways, for so many people.
I'm glad I knew him. I'm glad I loved him then. He knew exactly where he stood with me and I with him. We had a history, and I have memories that I look back and smile. I told him good-bye years ago. But not like this. This good-bye hurts. It just hurts.
In the end, everything has a story behind it. Everyone has a story behind them. I wouldn't change my part in the story, even though the ending is absolutely heartbreaking.
It's about a boy. When you're a teenage girl, it's always about a boy, or so it seems. He hung back from the crowd, a silent observer, it was obvious it was not his idea to be going to a week long summer camp. Just his luck that he was placed in the van with the two most talkative, goofy girls in the group. Just her luck that he laughed when they offered him teen magazines. A friendship was born over shoving candy wrappers into people's pillowcases, and junk into their luggage. The next few days the boy and the girl hung out, every waking moment between group games, hanging out at the food store, going to chapel. She noticed how tall he was, with brown sparkling eyes. She noticed the way he would look at her and tilt his head sideways. How he didn't mind the obnoxious golf pants she wore from the local thrift store. He told her he liked the piggy tales she wore, and waited for her for hours one afternoon while she laid in her bunk with a migraine. He held her hand at the lunch table, and laughed at her when she had to eat an entire lemon.
And then he kissed her. On a starry night, on a hillside in the forest. She remembers every word that was said that night. It was every bit a summer camp romance should be.
They went home and remained close. Remained boyfriend/ girlfriend. They spent hours together, and hours apart. He made choices that kept them apart, and yet they exchanged letters often. He made choices that kept them close, and they still exchanged letters. They spent time at the beach, in the pool, the mall, the park. The movies, ice skating, sitting on a hill, hours of talking. Hours of laughing. Being a teenager in love allows you to love someone for all the simple things. Before hearts are hardened and cautious.
They were different, he was the "bad boy", she was the "good girl". He was known for getting into trouble, she walked a line far out of that realm. They were drawn to each other, even though he would sink, and she only knew how to swim. She loved him because although people could find reasons not to, she found reasons she could. He taught her lots. She held his hand while he struggled with life, she learned the importance of just being there. She learned when things just plain suck, you can always find something to laugh about. He kept a letter in his wallet she wrote him, when he was going through a rough time. She had no idea he kept it there until one day he pulled it out, worn and creased from having been read- often it seemed, and he told her why. That it had meant that much to him what she had to say about him, and who she knew he was. She learned at that very moment, the importance of words, and letting people know their value in this world, and their value, even if it's just to you.
Months went by, and the boy and girl went separate ways. It was time. Still they remained friends. He would call her, she would call him, they would hang out. Every time seemed like old times. They tried dating again, and it didn't work out again. Friendship suited them better. If anything, even though the romance had faded away, the friendship remained. That's where the story ends. Not all romances end on happily ever after. Sometimes they are just a marker on the pathway to a soul mate.
Life went on, they both married others and had kids. They always kept tabs on each other through other people, one asking about the other, and happy that life had been kind to both. They ran into each other a few times, and exchanged small talk and smiles. The end.
A few days ago....
She had recently learn that the boy was struggling and had tragically passed away. That he was hurting inside too much to remain in this world any longer. He had struggled for so long. It's just sad. In so many ways, for so many people.
I'm glad I knew him. I'm glad I loved him then. He knew exactly where he stood with me and I with him. We had a history, and I have memories that I look back and smile. I told him good-bye years ago. But not like this. This good-bye hurts. It just hurts.
In the end, everything has a story behind it. Everyone has a story behind them. I wouldn't change my part in the story, even though the ending is absolutely heartbreaking.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Teacher Gifts
I think I forgot to share this from the end of the school year in June. I like doing the crafty thing, so the kiddos and I made these vases for their teachers. I just bought a vase at Michaels, pencils, cutsey ribbon, and a wooden apple from the wood section. I glued down paper to the glass, because hot glue wouldn't adhere to it, so I just used craft glue on paper. Then I hot glued the pencils to the paper. Hot glued the ribbon around, tied a bow, some more hot glue and voila!
Just something to keep in mind for the upcoming school year!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Smile
...........................................................................baloney 2007
Find something in everyday that makes your heart smile
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Confessionsof a shopamomlic
I braved back to school shopping today. By myself, all three girls in tow. We had a plan... well I had a plan, and by golly we would follow it.
We headed down to the good mall. The mall that is a half hour away, but has the best selection. And the most stores. Well the most high end stores. Coach, Hermes, Louis, Betsey J, Tiffanys, all those stuck up punks are there. Nordys, Neiman, Bloomi, them snotty folks too. Macys- macy's has the brow bar.
The brow bar is where one plops their bushy caterpillar eyebrow sportin' ass in a chair and gets those suckers ripped off in a flash of burning hotness. I love the job they do, shaping and styling and filling them in, looking like a celeb in In Touch magazine. I of course had an overgrown weed garden growing above my eyeballs that needed tended so that was our first stop.
She did a magnificent job, and I sat there patiently while she finished up, holding my breath since her hand was a millimeter from my mouth and I didn't know if she had swine flu or typhoid fever and didn't want to breath in some deadly amazon jungle vapors. Or something contagious like that.
Next stop was MAC..... the make up wonderland. Showing off my newly found eyebrows, I wanted to see what was new. I didn't get many offers of help from circus clowns, which was odd, but whatever. Lunchtime was coming up.
We order, at 2 different places and I sit down. I put napkin in my lap and realize someone has.....
left the barn door open.
Um, as in my zipper is not in the upright position. I am tramping around with my business file exposed. Serious confidentiality breach.
Better yet, I have on green and white striped underwear. So I'm all paranoid that someone has been enjoying a Where's Waldo peep show- Leprechaun edition- as I've been walking around. I should charge admission.
Sometimes I'm a walking train wreck.... missing a door on my caboose.
We headed down to the good mall. The mall that is a half hour away, but has the best selection. And the most stores. Well the most high end stores. Coach, Hermes, Louis, Betsey J, Tiffanys, all those stuck up punks are there. Nordys, Neiman, Bloomi, them snotty folks too. Macys- macy's has the brow bar.
The brow bar is where one plops their bushy caterpillar eyebrow sportin' ass in a chair and gets those suckers ripped off in a flash of burning hotness. I love the job they do, shaping and styling and filling them in, looking like a celeb in In Touch magazine. I of course had an overgrown weed garden growing above my eyeballs that needed tended so that was our first stop.
She did a magnificent job, and I sat there patiently while she finished up, holding my breath since her hand was a millimeter from my mouth and I didn't know if she had swine flu or typhoid fever and didn't want to breath in some deadly amazon jungle vapors. Or something contagious like that.
Next stop was MAC..... the make up wonderland. Showing off my newly found eyebrows, I wanted to see what was new. I didn't get many offers of help from circus clowns, which was odd, but whatever. Lunchtime was coming up.
We order, at 2 different places and I sit down. I put napkin in my lap and realize someone has.....
left the barn door open.
Um, as in my zipper is not in the upright position. I am tramping around with my business file exposed. Serious confidentiality breach.
Better yet, I have on green and white striped underwear. So I'm all paranoid that someone has been enjoying a Where's Waldo peep show- Leprechaun edition- as I've been walking around. I should charge admission.
Sometimes I'm a walking train wreck.... missing a door on my caboose.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
More Grandma lovin'
Just finished another rag quilt. For the other grandma. I feel very fortunate to be as old as I am.. (21) and am still surrounded by my grandparents. I made the other grandma a quilt this spring, and then this one last week. She recently had a stent put in, so it was a little "get-well-I-love-you-be-happy-I-miss-you" quilt. She loves purple, is stubborn, sassy, determined, and built like a brick shithouse. (her words, not mine, though hilarious to me all the same)
It was all cotton, and the first time I used a flannel middle instead of batting. I think I might like the batting better. I don't know if it was the use of all cotton and no flannel on the outside,but it didn't seem as soft, and cuddly.
Stay tuned for the yellow quilt of summer.
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