Things That Make Me Smile

In this ever bustling, busy, always in a rush world, I sometimes find a quite moment to reflect on my good fortune and how wonderful life can be. It is then that I find the little, simple things that make me smile.

My children. All seven of them.

Next Wednesday is their first day back to school. It will be wonderful that they will finally end their summer vacation lounging in my house all day, and I can now sit for a quite moment to read, scratch, burp, blog, doodle, and watch TV without being disturbed. By day two I’ll be so bored and hoping upon hope that the bus driver will make a u-turn and bring my children back.

Its when they are at home and fighting, and picking with each other, or just being their own usual rambunctious selves I then grit my teeth and say:

“ONE DAY LORD, JUST ONE DAY TO MYSELF!”

Then again, I haven’t been talking to the lord lately, so when HE sees me on the caller ID, I think he hangs up.

Either that or he just smiles as if to say, ‘You can handle it.’

I’ll go for the latter.

My eldest son, as stated in earlier posts can tickle my funny bone and make me laugh.

The diva shines in her own special way.

Then there is diva #2 who has now come into her own and has surprised me with holding down a job this summer, and she has really blossomed into a beautiful young lady.

Then that leaves Tisha who is twelve, Taj who is nine, Tamara who will be seven soon, and baby Trinity who is three.

Out of those four, it is Tamara who gives me the most reflection on my days when I need a smile.

LAST SUMMER

TAMARA falling off of the steps in her haste to help with the final touches in the flower garden in the front yard: “OWWW! Waaaaah, I cut my knee!!”

ME running to aid my poor clumsy child: “What happened? How’d you fall? Are you okay?”

TAMARA clearly the drama queen as her little ‘scrape’ has now become a very big deal: “Aaaaaaaah! I’m gonna die!”

ME clearly used to the dramatics: “Shhh now. You’ll be okay. Look it’s just a scratch, not even a cut. Why don’t you go inside and get a band-aid? There’s a good girl. You can stand. I’ll help you up the stairs. I got the door. Okay. Now go in your bathroom and look under the sink cabinet

and there is a green and white box full of band-aids. Find one or two and put them on your cut.”

TAMARA pouting: “I want a big band-aid.”

ME clearly tired of the dramatics by now but trying not to sound too impatient: “You can have a big band-aid. Just pick whichever one you want.”

TAMARA clearly all better now that the words ‘band-aid’ and ‘whichever one you want’ was mentioned: “Aren’t you coming in with me? Can you wipe it for me?”

ME: “You’ll be okay girl. Just go in there and find a band-aid. You can use a piece of tissue to wipe off the little bit of blood. Go ahead now. You’ll be okay.”

TAMARA walking away without a limp.

***** FIVE FULL MINUTES LATER *****

ME happily engaged in planting some lavender bushes in my psychedelic array of flowers, shrubs, and herbs. I turn around to the sound of “I FOUND IT.”

TAMARA standing on the bottom step of the front staircase proudly showing off her big band-aid.

A band-aid the same size and shape of a Kotex maxi pad without wings.

EARLY SPRING THIS YEAR:

TAMARA engaged in a conversation with her older brother at the kitchen table one morning: “You know what Taj, one day you and I will be married and have houses of our own.”

TAJ clearly not in the mood to talk about the long off future with his little sister: “I’m not marrying anyone.”

TAMARA: “Well some woman will catch your fancy and make your heart tingle. She’s the one that you’ll marry. And then soon you’ll be engaged in talks about how many children you want, and what college they’ll go to.”

ME clearly intrigued at this little six year old munchkin and her tendency to sound just like her momma.

TAJ clearly annoyed now because he wants to be done with this talk so that he can play the Wii: “Yeah, yeah. Look I’ll have kids. Lots of kids and I’ll bring them all to your house when I’m tired of them.”

TAMARA intrigued as well: “Oh yeah, how many?

TAJ: “Uh, about 10 or twelve.

TAMARA sucks in her breath sharply, eyes nearing bulging out of her head as she stares at her brother while holding her spoonful of cheerios precariously over the edge of her bowl. “Huh?!?”

ME nearly choking on the piece of toast that I almost sucked down my throat at Tajs’ response.

TAJ happy that he finally got Tamara to shut up for once since they began eating: “Yup about ten or twelve will do. I gotta get a big house though.”

TAMARA: Silence

ME: Stunned silence

TAJ drinking the last of his milk and burping in response to our stares. “What about you, how many children are you gonna have?”

TAMARA recovering from the shock of being told that she will one day be the aunt to ten or twelve nieces or nephews from one brother: “I don’t know Taj. I guess I’ll just borrow some of yours.”

LAST WEEK

TIA searching for some tool to finish a necklace that she was repairing: “Help me find it Tamara. I seen you with it last. I told you again and again not to touch my things.”

TAMARA sitting on the couch engrossed in another mindless episode of Spongebob Square Pants: “I didn’t have it I told you! Why you always blame me for things?!?”

TIA clearly losing patience: “Cause you always LOSE MY STUFF!”

ME trying to diffuse the situation: “Alright, calm down Tia. It has to be somewhere. Did you check the garbage? You know that is a favorite hiding place of Trinitys’.”

TIANA coming into the kitchen; our family meeting place, clearly looking for something as well: “Anyone see the tweezers? I think I got a splinter in my hand.”

TAMARA not looking from the TV screen to address Tiana: “I think I saw those in the room somewhere.”

TIANA: “Where?”

TAMARA shrugging her shoulders: “I don’t know.”

TIANA: “Well could you go get ‘em?”

TIA: “First she has to help me find my wire cutters so that I can finish this necklace. I have to have this done by tonight.”

ME sensing that things are going to heat up real soon: Okay, okay girls. Take a breather and calm down. Tamara turn off the TV and find the wire cutters. Tiana come with me. I think I know where some tweezers are.”

***** SOME TWENTY-SOMETHING MINUTES LATER *****

ME: “Tia did you find the wire cutters?”

TIA sounding like she is ready to explode: “NO!”

ME: “Well, join the club. I haven’t found any tweezers either. Tiana you alright?”

TIANA: “Yeah. It’s no biggie. It’ll eventually come out if I can’t find the tweezers.”

ME: “Don’t be silly. It can get infected!”

TIANA shrugging in response.

***** MINUTES LATER *****

TAMARA: “I found it.”

ME: “Found what?”

TAMARA: “The tweezers.”

ME: “I thought you were looking for the wire cutters?”

TAMARA: “Can’t find ‘em.”

ME: “Alright, bring what you got. I’m in the kitchen.”

ME turning to reach for the tweezers that Tamara has found as she walks in the kitchen, only to discover that she has found these gigantic pair of pliers with yellow handles and a scary doodad on the side.

ME, TIANA, and TIA can’t stop laughing at Tamara’s frown as she doesn’t understand what did she do that was so darn funny.

It’s these little moments that makes me smile. And grateful that I have a tribe of seven kids to keep me entertained.

Home Is Where the Heart Is!

Hello bloggers! Long time no see. I 've been a busy bee of sorts, so I will intend to update you.


The DIVA and her little bro are home. Back from their long extended stay up in New York. They really enjoyed themselves and couldn't wait to go out and visit with their friends instead of update their momma on what they did in the 'Big Apple'.


I started classes again this summer on July 6. (gulp) I am taking a Political Science class (the teacher already hates me), and a beginner Spanish class (the teacher is lovely). It is going on week 3 and I already have one quiz due this week for my Political Science class.


The political arena is touchy. I am not a very political person, but I am strong in my convictions and my principles, and do not waver from my views unless human life is at stake. That's when I shut my mouth, and let the big dogs scrap it out!


Antyways


The hubby and I are on a little break from the therapy sessions, and will resume by the end of the month. (snort) Who ever said married life was easy should be strapped to a hard back chair in a room alone, and made to listen to Vanilla Ice with the volume at full blast.


The other children on the BIBI home front are doing okay. Some can't wait until school starts, others want to bum around all day in front of the stupid box and burn their brain cells with as much useless info that they can fill their brain cavity up with.


I on the other hand watch the most educational things that we mommy's find so amusing.


Monday thru Friday 10 AM - Live with Regis and Kelly. My grandmother calls them the Gracie and George of our time. Except they are not married. I just watch to see if they will ever get my email and call me to talk live, on the phone with them so that I can win a prize. Shameless right?

Monday thru Friday 11 AM - The View. Barbara Walters and her posse always make me laugh. I hope Elizabeth drops that bundle soon so that we can see the little bundle of joy!


Tuesday and Wednesday 9 PM - America's Got Talent. Who does not watch that show for all the bad auditions?!?

Tuesday 10 PM - Tori and Dean. Love Tori. Love Dean. Ahhh... What the rich do when they have time on their hands.




Thursday 9 PM - She's Got The Look. Women over 35 looking sexy and doing their thing. There is hope for me yet!





Friday, Saturday, and Sunday - If I am not carpooling to a friends house, sewing, doing homework, studying, cooking, washing clothes, or fixing a crumpled kids spirit 'cause they did not get what they wanted that week, then I tune to TCM for some old b&w movies.


Don't you just love the weekends?!?

A Home of Our Own

I recently watched the movie “A Home of Our Own” starring Kathy Bates and Edward Furlong. Such a touching movie and that mother was strong as an ox to keep her family together. I won’t spoil the plot by telling you what happened in case you do happen to see it. I only mentioned it because it reminded me of my childhood and the constant moving that we did.

Bear with me. I digress.

Well, before leaving the urban jungle that we called home in Brooklyn NYC I always knew that my father was a shady character. When I was thirteen, my father decided he made enough enemies in NYC after living there all of his mean life, so he decided to move my mom, me, my three sisters, and my three brothers to the state capital. Yup. That’s right. Washington D.C.

I apologize in advance if I offend anyone reading who is from the D.C. area, but that place is off the chain! I learned so much about drug paraphernalia I am surprised that I didn’t become a pharmacist. I would have made straight ‘A’s’.

I also watched a neighborhood kid get shot, numerous drug busts, and one too many fights. After three weeks in that place called home, my mom decided that it was too much trouble to go outside, so we spent the next year and a half watching all of the action from our second story windows. I vaguely remember that we didn’t watch too much television around this time either.

After we were evicted from our gray painted peeling and in desperate need of a paint job house called home, we moved in with some friends in Baltimore, Maryland. My mom had the last of the Hann tribe in D.C. which made the grand total of children that my mother had an even eight. Yup. Five girls and three boys. She was only three shy of the total that my father had. He has eleven kids total. At least, that’s what he told us. But who knows.

Yes, with eleven children under his belt my papa was a rolling stone.

Anytways.

We stayed in Maryland for a total of eight months before heading to that great big state that always shines. Yup. Californ-i-a!

I was fifteen by then and would be sixteen in a couple of weeks of arriving there and it was not pleasant circumstances. We lived in the high desert and we were not aware that it only rained but once a year in the Mojave Desert and we just missed the annual downpour. I was missing the East coast by the time I was sixteen and three days.

After almost two years in the desert we made it back to the East Coast. My father liked driving and it took us almost a week, and he was the only driver. And I didn’t feel sorry not one bit for that mean scoundrel. He was a mean wheel man with caffeinated blood that accelerated his hatred. I was so happy to reach my grandmother’s house.

My grandmother has lived in her home since 1971. A year before her first grandchild (that would be me) was born. She has the same phone number and I’ve know her Queens address since I was six. It was the place that I called ‘home’ away from our multiple ‘homes’ before I married and got my own.

Now when I look at it, we moved so much that I began to look forward to the next road trip that would bring us new adventures, a new place to lay my head, and new friends. I never had a problem making friends, just a problem keeping them.

But we finally settled in VA in 1990, after a long extended-stay at my grandmother’s. I call this place home now, with its southern atmosphere, slow-paced patron’s who take the time to smell the roses (or who drive slow enough to watch them grow), and that everyone knows your family, and you know theirs. All of my children were born at the same hospital, they have the same pediatrician for the last 16 years, we visit the same library, and my children check out the same books now that I picked out when I was a teenager starting off here.

It’s a wonder I don’t get ‘town fever’ for staying put in one place for so long. I guess home IS a place where you lay your hat. Or in my case a Yankees cap.

I am still a New Yorker deep inside.

Bear with it!

Schools Out and I Don't Intend to Stand Around and Twittle My Thumbs Either!

I apologize for being such a bad blogger of late. I promise, now that my semester of school was officially over this past Friday I can now pay attention to more important things! =^)

First things first, I have to post a BIG thank you to some of you for giving me awards. You are the best!

Second I have to write SOMETHING that has been plaguing the news of late. I don't like to talk about death, but my conscience won't let this one go away. (You are too bossy dude, go away!)

Third, I have two new followers. Thank you guys for being my friend. I totally enjoy the extra company.

Fourth, everything on the BIBI home front is doing okay!

The Diva and her little bro (my very articulate son) are in N.Y with my little bro. Rock on kids, school is not for another 7 weeks!

My kids go back to school in August. Something to do with making sure we get in early before the snow falls and we miss weeks and weeks of school. (Hey! I say the earlier the better! Like August 19th early )

Anytways, the hubby and I are doing okay. He has sleep apnea and sounds like Darth Vader when we go to bed now that he has to sleep with the CPAP mask on every night. But hey! it's a great idea for some role playing before I put my nightcap on. ; )

The baby, my little Trinity, turned 3 on the 24th of this month and I am exhilarated. This is the first time in a LONG time that one of my babies turned three and there is not another bun in the oven. Thank you Doc B for making sure that my momma factory stays closed. (no chastity belt required, besides its too late to observe some chastity now.)

I have only 5 children at home right now and I have no idea what to do. Why do I feel like a part of me is missing since my two oldest kiddies have been gone for two weeks now? Little bro will probably let them loose in about a week or so.

Until then, I'll take Tiana (14), Tisha (12), Taj (9), Tamara(6), and Trinity(now 3), to the community kiddie park for some quality time. Ohh! my creative mind is in overlaod.

Love, Growth, and Maturity

I was looking through some old cards of the hubby and mine. We will be married for 10 years in August. Looking back on when we first married I have to say that we did have a whirlwind romance.


I was working at a giant retailer at the time, and he happened to see me working in the electronics department. He eventually started a conversation and we went from there.


I was getting over a BAD relationship with the first husband, trying to raise my three girls and one boy, and working on earning my first degree in college. (Going back to school after a eight year hiatus bites, but I got through it!)


He comforted me, consoled me, and reassured me that I was a strong women who was doing the right thing. I fell head over heels. We were married after two months courting.


The children were in the wedding and really loved having a 'dad' around again. I enjoyed having someone around to talk to and help me with the kids. Some would say I was on the rebound but I never felt as if I was going to give up on the relationship until we were married for about five years.


We never reached the seven-year itch before the real fights began. But we survived it and we are now smiling at each other, making goggling eyes at each other and talking 'dirty' when the kids aren't around. I think the therapist has done her job, but we will still continue to see her until we feel certain that we are absolutely on the right track.


While looking through some of the cards, our wedding cards, anniversary, new additions to the family, millions of birthday cards, and dozens of father and mother day cards, I found some with letters in them.


Have you ever wrote letters to your loved ones trying to explain the content of the card as well as the meaning behind the card?!? Well, if you are the BIBI that is a lot to write down. Being that I AM the talkative kind, I once wrote a letter with a beautiful card that was EIGHT pages long!!


Whew! Was I that into myself then?!?


Endlessly trying to explain why I snapped at him and why he needs to be patient with me and I've had such a shitty childhood that's why I am so messed up. Then spending a page or two apologizing for being me, and asking him to be patient with me because I was sooo screwed up and blah, blah, blah, blah, and blah.


I now realized that a marriage is about two people who share the same common interests and that one person cannot always see life as a victim. I was always making myself into the victim, one who could do no better because of my past. But my past does not define me anymore, because I am now the victor of my own destiny. I make my choices, good or bad, I decide to do better instead of waiting for someone to tell me that I have changed and that I am good now. I no longer acknowledge that little voice in my head that puts me down and tells me that I am no good.


I am good, not perfect, but good. I care, I love, I feel, I embrace my emotions,I laugh, I raise my beautiful children, I strive hard to make my loved ones comfortable, and I work hard at making sure that they are loved. I am me embracing life, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, whether I am sick or healthy. I am me and it is pretty absolutely gucking freat!

Farewell

I want to take this time to say goodbye to my beautiful great Aunt Clara who lost her battle with a brain tumor on May 8, 2009 at 11:01 PM.

Also called a glioblastoma multiforme, my Aunt Clara was diagnosed with this type of fast growing; the most malignant form of a brain tumor in the summer of 2008. Late summer of that same year she had her first surgery which was done with much apprehension from the medical crew, but everyone was hoping for a success story. After the surgery, my Aunt Clara had chemo, and she was able to enjoy life for a while.

By Thanksgiving of last year it came back. The doctors opted for more chemo therapy and juggled with more surgery on her tumor invading her brain. My Aunt Clara then had another surgery and this one left her weaker than before she was operated on. But that wouldn’t stop her from hosting Christmas that year at her house, even though it was done while she sat on the couch in the living room the whole time. She was always a gracious host.

By January the tumor began to metastasize on to her central nervous system, and the doctors ultimately thought it was beyond their control to try another surgery. Her body couldn’t handle another one and she gave up on the chemotherapy as it made her too sick.

The last week of March was the last time that she would go to the hospital and leave with any good news. Soon after she was placed in Hospice and we all waited. Soon my Aunt Clara couldn’t sit up any more because the cancer began to invade her spinal cord and she was steadily losing muscle tone.

The next week she couldn’t speak as her vocal cords were ravaged by the cancer. She would still respond to verbal communication when you spoke to her by nodding her head and keeping eye contact.

Soon after she began to lose her eyesight as the cancer infiltrated her blood vessels in her eyes and they became bloodshot red. She still would reach out to you if you spoke to her. This Friday she lost her battle with her enemy who wanted to take her from her family, friends and loved ones. My Aunt Clara is survived by a son, my cousin Kevin, a daughter-in-law Vida, and two grandchildren Raynard and Zarah. She also left behind her six sisters, one of whom happen to be my grandmother, who stood by her side and made sure that her ‘little’ sister was always comfortable. My Aunt Clara was 71 years young.

Of course I can not forget her love of her life, her husband, my Uncle Charles who stood by my aunt for more than 50 years. They also retired together traveling to China, Europe, Italy, numerous trips to Disneyland with the grand kids, and countless trips to VA, whenever I had a wee little one. She was the most generous woman in our family always organizing family reunions, birthday parties, holiday get-togethers, and just plain picnics whenever one of us wanted to get together, especially if we came from out of town visiting one another.

My mother said that my Aunt Clara had a ‘long arm’ which is a Persian saying meaning someone who is very generous. And that she was. Sharing her boisterous laugh, advice and love I will miss my Aunt Clara greatly. She was always a comfort to me whenever life got me down especially whenever I was going through many prepubescent and teenage trials and tribulations. With a great big smile on her face and not a seemingly fake bone in her body, I was always glad to see my Aunt Clara at family functions or reunions.

Her funeral will be held this Friday at 12 PM in Westchester County, New York. Surrounded by loved ones, friends and family I am hoping that she will feel the love that we will bestow upon her that day as we celebrate not her death, but the life that she led and left behind for us all to remember.

Farewell my sweet sweet aunt. You will be surely missed.

May you rest in peace!

Come and Meet Mr. Whazitooya!

I digress.

The hubby is getting on my nerves. Again. Nothing new, he is always getting on my nerves. But this time it is more serious. In the last two weeks of thought of the 'D' word at least five times.

No not 'damn', 'dummy', or 'dead as a door nail when I get through with you', but divorce!

Here's why.

Anyone who has been reading this blog knows that the hubby and I do go to counseling/therapy. Ms. G has recently begun to see us every two weeks instead of every week because she thought we were making such good progress. She thought.

Now, this coming up session I am going to tell her that we need to come back every week so that the hubby can begin to learn to use his resources that God gave to him at birth.

It's called a piehole. It's the thing one inch right above your chin, and when you stand up straight it sits right under your nose.

He uses it to stuff it with food, talk/yell at the kids, talk to the boss, cuss at the TV, and to call loved ones when they are too far away to visit. He uses it for everyone except me. I get the silent treatment.

Me addressing the hubby when he comes in from a long day at work: "How was your day"?

Hubby with back turned: "Ok".

Me frowning: "What was that"?

Hubby talking in a higher octave than necessary: "It was okay".

Me silently fuming with arms crossed and everything.

Hubby using the bathroom and making it smell like something died in there.

Me with one can of air freshener sprayed directly at the bathroom door as the hubby comes out of the 'stink room': "Ummm... you don't smell that"?

Hubby ignoring me as he clears his throat and shrugs his shoulder.

Me: "Well"?

Hubby quietly: "Well what"?

Me: "Don't you want to talk about your day"?

Hubby: "It was okay".

Me: "And what else? And in case you have forgotten I've been holed up in the house with three teens who right now hate me because I made them go to bed after Jay Leno's' monologue and are probably plotting my demise right now as we speak, a 12 year old who picks on her little brother ALL DAY LONG, a six-year old who runs all day even to go so far as to kick in her sleep, and a two year old who loves to wear make-up to bed and screams when I try to remove it. So please, no wise cracks. Just some honest to goodness adult conversation".

Hubby blinking at me as I try to catch my breath.

Me staring back at him as I try to regain my composure.

Hubby makes a beeline for the bathroom to take a shower.

Me sighing as I now realize that it is going to be another non-talkative lonely night.

**************************************************************************************

I really don't want to make the TV my best companion at night as I turn to it to have some normalcy of conversation. Or spend another night fuming in my journal and pressing down so hard on the paper I can read what I wrote six pages ahead. But what else is there to do?

I think the hubby forgot that when we agreed to counseling for our marriage we were to get better at communicating, not shutting each other out of our lives.

I also realize that he does work two jobs and is under a lot of stress and maybe making conversation at 11:30 PM when everyone is just beginning to look at the back of their eyelids is probably not the best time to converse.

But then what is?!?

Tuesday Smile: Then the Fight Started...

Then the fight started...



My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.

I turned to her and said, "Do you want to have sex?" "No," she answered.

I then said, "Is that your final answer?" She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying "Yes."

So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And that's when the fight started....

*********************************************************************

I asked my wife, "Where do you want to go for our anniversary?"

It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.

"Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!" she said.

So I suggested, "How about the kitchen?"

And that's when the fight started....

**********************************************************************

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, grabbed the dog, and slipped quietly into the garage.

I hooked up the boat up to the truck, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.

The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.

I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible.'

My loving wife of 10 years replied, 'Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?'

And then the fight started ...

*********************************************************************

I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.

Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95.

I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.

And then the fight started....

*********************************************************************

A woman was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.

She was not happy with what she saw and said to her husband, 'I feel

horrible; I look old, fat and ugly.

I really need you to pay me a compliment.'

The husband replies, 'Your eyesight's damn near perfect.'

And then the fight started.....

*********************************************************************

I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.

"I'll have the strip steak, medium rare, please."

He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?""

Nah, she can order for herself."

And then the fight started...

*********************************************************************

My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept

staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.

My wife asked, 'Do you know her?'

'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'

'My God!' said my wife, 'who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'

And then the fight started...

*********************************************************************

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security.

The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's license to verify my age.

I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home.

I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt.' So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair.

She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office.

She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'

And then the fight started...

*********************************************************************

When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her someplace

expensive... so, I took her to a gas station.

And then the fight started...

**********************************************************************

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.

She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds.

I bought her a scale.

And then the fight started...

*********************************************************************

My wife sat down on the couch next to me as I was flipping channels.

She asked, 'What's on TV?'

I said, 'Dust.

And then the fight started...


Tehehehe... You all have a good one and enjoy!

So Real, I Must Be Dreaming!

My little "ladies"

Ever had one of those moments in life that felt so real, looked so real, that you just had to be dreaming?!? I did.

The hubby and I like to go for walks. And since we like to walk but not on the country roads, we usually take a ride into town, walk the track at the University and then perhaps do some shopping afterwards before going home.

Well we did that this particular day, and decided to leave Tia home with the children. No biggie right?!? She always does some baby-sitting on the side to earn a few bucks.

So, the hubby and I are walking and enjoying our little time together. Usually I have my cell phone on and with me as I walk, but this particular day I decide ‘nahhh, the kids never call me so I’ll leave it in the truck’.

An hour has passed and the hubs and I are still walking. Little did I know my cell phone is ringing off the hook with Tia trying to reach me.

The hubby and I decide that we don’t need to go to the store, and take the scenic route home. I never once looked at my phone to see if the children had called or anything, I am just enjoying life and just peachy.

I get home and my front door is wide open, and Tamara is in the doorway crying. My momma sense kicks in and I immediately begin to open my door as the car is still rolling up the driveway. I would have jumped out as well if the hubby hadn’t grabbed me.

I storm into the house, ready to take on the world when I notice that all of the kids are gathered in the living room and crying. I immediately see that Trinity is not there.

“Where’s my baby?” I ask, looking at all of them and they immediately begin sobbing like they feel guilty.

I panic and look at Tia, who is by the way crying silently and looks the guiltiest of all.

“Mom, Trinity is gone.”

My mind takes a moment to register as I try to process the word ‘gone’.

“Like gone to heaven gone or just decided to walk off into the forest as if trying to runaway. And remember answer correctly because she IS only two years old”.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know who he was. He said that he came from the American Beauty contest and that he was to pick her up and take her to the station in Richmond and that …”

I put up my hand to silence her. Strangely quiet and calm I don’t realize that I am shaking. The hubby is still outside twinkling with his truck and has not come in yet. I know this because I hear this low rumble that reaches a pitch in tone, then levels out, then reaches a pitch, then levels out. Strange sound to take notice of when your child has been potentially kidnapped but hey that’s me, taking it all in.

By this time I am stuttering to make sense of my words; “Wwwhat, wwhen, and how did this happen?”

I look up and notice that my eldest son is gone and that Tamara is gone as well. I shrug guessing that they couldn’t handle it and went into their room for privacy.

Tia by this point is crying uncontrollably and I can’t console her. I can’t move. The hubs is still outside and I look out the still open front door and wonder where in the heck is my truck?

Tia comes up behind me, and has miraculously stopped crying and says; “He also took your truck.”

I slump to the floor as I have been hit with a six-pack. MY TRUCK! Who on God’s green earth would want to steal my truck? It never did anything to anybody, let alone break down and cause anyone any harm. MY TRUCK?

The hubs shows up in the doorway by now and has my cell phone in his hand.

“You missed your calls.”

“My truck is missing along with Trinity.”

“What?!?”

“I said, that our reliable daughter here let some creep into our home, let him take Trinity on the pretense that he was from some ‘Reliable Baking Company’, and he must have stole my spare key from the bureau in the vestibule when no one was looking and decided to take my truck instead on his way out. Which by the way is weird because his car is nowhere to be seen.”

“Oh.” He looked like he was in shock. Couldn’t tell because he decided to pick up some fruit and bite into it at this point.

I then realize the magnitude of the situation and realize that my baby, my little girl is missing! Missing.

I then scream, and fall out flat on the floor. I come to and realize that Tamara is laughing. She is watching a home video tape of Trinity and laughing at the dance that she is doing. I look at the TV screen and immediately start to cry.

Meanwhile, I am crying and wanting to move but can’t and wondering all at the same time, ‘Where in the heck is the Police? The hubby should have called them by now.'

Nope he hasn’t. And that sound came back. The low rumble that goes up and down in pitch like someone is grumbling in the back of their throat.

I go outside for some fresh air, and then decide to hop in the truck to go look for Trinity. I call out to her: “Don’t worry baby, momma is gonna find you!”

I look all over the small town, crying and looking, looking and crying, picturing my daughter crying and holding and out her hands in some strangers arms waiting for me to come rescue her.

I start to drive back home as the sun sets and pull up into my driveway. There is a limo parked in our driveway and the children are surrounded around it. This guy comes out of the limo and begins to pat my son on the head. He looks strangely familiar but I can’t place him.

I park the hubby’s truck and realize that Trinity is standing with the children. I am so happy I forget to put the truck in ‘park’, I felt like a small kick in my back, and I then hop out of the truck to go see who this person is as well as figure out how my daughter came back home.

I walk up to the limo asking myself ‘who is this person?’ ‘Is he the one who stole my baby?’ ‘He is very, very familiar whoever he is’.

I get a closer look as I come upon the limo and see that the person standing in front of me is Edward. Edward as in ‘Twilight’s’ Edward.

He turns to look at me and says “Hey how’s it going?”

I had no time to reply before the rest of the Cullen family popped out of the limo all dressed in their baseball gear as if ready to play a game. And they have Jacob with them as well.

I soon forget all about Trinity missing, my truck is gone, and that the hubby for some strange reason is now making me upset because he won’t stop snoring.

“You can come on in Edward, but the rest of you have to stay outside.” They don’t look so surprised that I have said that and just go into the neighboring field and start to play ball. Without any thunder or rain clouds. They don’t need it, their lousy ball players and don’t strike not one ball.

Edward is standing in my doorway and telling me: “Come on let’s watch a movie.” I look at him and want to say ‘You know what, lets invite Emmet in and see if he wants to see the movie as well.’ But I don’t say it because I don’t want to hurt his feelings and let it be known that I think Emmet is cuter than Edward, but ah well!

Okay, I admit it I am not the brightest light bulb in the ceiling light fixture, but when I awoke from this dream I just knew that it was real. So real that I had to pinch the hubby and get Trinity’s foot out of my back as I quietly got out of bed and on the computer to jot this all down before I forgot.

Now, do you think I am weird because I dream so vividly? You decide!

Tuesday Smile: Life Lesson

You don’t have to be mom to enjoy this one.

Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal Brian's mother couldn't help but notice how beautiful Brian's roommate, Jennifer, was. Brian's Mom had long been suspicious of the platonic relationship between Brian and Jennifer, and this had only made her more curious.


Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Jennifer than met the eye.


Reading his mom's thoughts, Brian volunteered, 'I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you Jennifer and I are just roommates.'


About a week later, Jennifer came to Brian saying, 'Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy Ladle. You don't suppose she took it, do you?'


Brian said, 'Well, I doubt it, but I'll send her an e-mail just to be sure.'


So he sat down and wrote:

Dear Mom,

I'm not saying that you 'did' take the gravy ladle from the house, I'm not saying that you 'did not' take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that One has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.

Love, Brian


Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read:


Dear Son,

I'm not saying that you 'do' sleep with Jennifer, I'm not saying that you 'do not' sleep with Jennifer. But the fact remains that if Jennifer is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.

Love, Mom


LESSON OF THE DAY - NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER!

Thanks Sparkle1978 @ Sparkpeople.com

Get In. Sit Down. Shut Up. Hold On.

Well, I did it again.

I went to therapy and let the hubby drive again, against my better judgment. Against ALL better judgment.

The morning started out like any other morning. I packed lunch, hugged the kids, ate breakfast, showered, and dressed for our 10:30 AM appointment.

Needless to say, I wanted to leave at 8:30 but we left at 9:03.

Hubby started the truck up while I added the finishing touches to my face. You know, a chewed up black eyeliner pencil, baby lotion, and Vaseline for lip-gloss. A momma can never find what she is looking for when the kiddies ransack her bathroom and leave her the bare necessities.

I finally got in the truck, and we took off. The fact that we took off at a pace of a NASCAR driver should have hinted me on to what was to lie ahead, but I was concentrating on keeping the hubby awake whilst he drove.

15 minutes into the drive, I blinked all of my eyeliner off, my face felt like I rubbed sandpaper on it, and I licked all of the Vaseline off trying to keep my tongue in my mouth as the hubby swerved around cars to try to make up for lost time.

I felt like I was on a bad rollercoaster ride. I tried to make it more interesting so that the hubby wouldn’t begin to nod off.

Me: “Why are you swerving? I’m getting nauseous just trying to keep in time to the swaying.”

Hubby: “I’m trying to make up for lost time.”

Me: “No duh. But you can drive at a reasonable speed limit and let some of the cars past you. This is not a race.”

Hubby immediately slows down to 55 MPH. The speed limit is 65.

***driving, driving, driving***

Me: looking at my watch as the time rolls by and we haven’t reached the next county yet “You know the speed limit IS 65 MPH.”

Hubby immediately speeds up. He then fiddles with the radio and turns to ‘The Steve Harvey Show’.

We listen contently as a girl named Mikka is interviewing bachelors for a date in Chicago, fully paid for by Steve Harvey.

***driving, driving, driving***

Me: “Whoa! Slow down and let Shamu of the highway get past you. Damn trucks always hogging the road.”

Hubby: “What did you call that truck?”

Me: “Shamu. You know like the whale at sea world somewhere. I don’t know. He’s big and annoying and he practically ran us over trying to get to that next stop sign.”

Hubby: Chuckling “Your silly.”

Me: sourly “I’m glad to be of some amusement to you.”

***driving, driving, driving***

Me: “Pew whee, do you smell that?”

Hubby: “Yeah. The farmers must be out early fertilizing their land.”

Me: voice muffled as I try to talk with both of my hands covering my nose and mouth “You would think that they would have found a better use for cow poo poo than the fields near the highway. Don’t they realize that people actually drive past here and don't want their nostrils insulted?”

Hubby: “That’s not cow manure, it’s human sludge.”

Me: voice muffled as I am still covering my nose and mouth “Na-uh. Stop joking around. They wouldn’t use human waste for farmland.”

Hubby: looking at me as if I just came from the planet bobble head “Hon, this is Amelia County. Welcome to human sludge wastelands U.S.A.”

Me: “Oh my God!” Momentarily forgetting to cover my mouth and nose, and quickly covering them back up again.

Hubby: “You know I heard that it is a good fertilizer for your hair as well. Want to stop and get some?”

Me: I am now using the bottom half of my upturned sweater and both of my hands to cover my nose and mouth as the smell now permeates through the vents in the truck. “Ha. Ha. And ha! I’m so glad that you find yourself sooo amusing.”

Hubby: pouting “Well I’m just saying…”

Me: “Why? I don’t think that joking about.. WHOA! Slow down! You almost hit that car!”

Hubby: “Too late. I’m way ahead of you.”

Me: “But you did almost hit them.”

Hubby: “Well, then he should watch where he puts his car in front of someone then.”

Me: “Why can’t you admit that you almost hit that car?”

Hubby: Turning to me as if his neck is possessed by the devil with a frown on his forehead to match “Please let me drive!”

I back off, because he IS driving. Plus I want to get there in one piece.

***driving, driving, driving, driving***

Hubby is beginning to nod off.

Me: “Dude, watch the road.”

Hubby: “I’m alright, I’m alright.”

Me: grumbling under my breath “You NEED to watch the road.”

Hubby: “Wanna drive?”

Me: “You betcha damn skippy.”

Hubby: sighs as he shakes his head awake and shifts in his seat “You know I can drive.”

Me: “No argument here.”

Hubby: yawning. Hard. With his mouth open.

Me: “Pew whee!! Did you eat cheese this morning?”

Hubby: “Yup!”

Me: mumbling under my breath as I roll down the window “Good God have mercy.”

***driving, driving, driving***

We finally reach our destination, and I announce that I would drive home. The hubby shrugged me off. I took it as a yes.

*** ONE HOUR LATER***

I race to the truck and get in the drivers seat. The hubster didn’t have a chance.

I adjusted the seat, fixed my mirrors, popped in my Whitney Houston Greatest hits CD.

Hubby sat in the passenger seat, leaned back and folded his arms across his stomach.

I drove out of the parking at a respectable speed and made it to the highway without a sound from him. The only sound between the two of us was the sound of Whitney singing.

***driving, driving, and more driving ***

I am now singing along with Ms. Houston, and trying to match her high notes. I am content that I don’t sound so screechy. I am in my own little world and the hubby is silent so I assume that he is sleeping. I look over at him.

Nope. No luck. He is still awake, gripping his knees and frowning.

***driving, driving, driving ***

20 minutes from home and the hubby is still silent. I am still singing along to Ms. Houston and making good time on the highway.

I then look over at the hubs and notice that he is sitting up in his seat gripping his knees and frowning into the windshield.

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Hubby: “I was trying to sleep but I can’t.”

Me: “Why can’t you?”

Hubby: “I liked your nagging this morning better than this singing of yours.”

Damn, I thought I sounded good.