Eat your heart out, Mr. Rogers!

I have the most hilarious neighbors on the face of the earth!  Yesterday I posted this status update on FaceBook:

I was telling my neighbor "B" last night how I ended up with a package of deli ham in my grocery bag yesterday. It must have been from the customer before me at the grocery store. She said "And you think you're ethically obligated to return the ham?".  I said "Heck no, I'm asking if you think it's still safe to eat!". Her idea of me is obviously way more noble than the reality of me.

Soon, neighbor "K" posted this update:

Bought a package of deli ham at a local grocery store last night, but they forgot to put it In my bag - probably ended up in the bag of the person behind me. Oh well, people are good. Someone will probably return it.

Followed by an update from neighbor "B":

My neighbor Lisa was nice enough to bring me over a ham sandwich...she keeps asking me how it is.

Say "Cheese"!

I am a wannabe photographer.  Recently, I took a photography course through the county and showed up at the local high school for my first class.  As the teacher gave his intro and described what we'd be learning, I noticed a woman looking at me from across the classroom and I could tell she was trying to figure out why I looked familiar.  During the break I walked up to her and said "Hi!  You have no idea how you know me, do you?"  And she said "You look so familiar but, I'm sorry, I just can't place you."  I said "Maybe this will help..."

I hopped up on the tall metal stool, put both feet up on the table and said "...how about now?"  She burst out laughing when she realized that she was my OB/GYN and had delivered my last child a few years ago.

I guess I know who to call when I need pictures taken for my memoir entitled "Looking Inside Myself".

It Can Only Get Better, Howard Jones Told Me So.

This morning started out OK.  Woke the boy, made his lunch, talked to him while he ate his breakfast.  I realized just as he was about to leave the house that he had a doctor appointment at 8:50am and he could have slept in.  Ooops.  He complained and said - get this - that he WANTED to go to school.  Ugh.  Seriously?  OK, let me think.  I sent him to school and told him I would pick him up at 8:40a.  Bye mom.  Bye son.  Wait, did I say 8:40am?  Crap!  That’s precisely the time my daughters catch their bus.  OK, let me think.  Maybe, for the first time ever, the girls (9 and 6) could walk to the bus stop by themselves?  I would have to leave the house at 8:25a, they would be at home alone for 15 minutes.  Run this by husband for a sanity check.  All systems GO.  Got the girls up early so I could make sure they knew exactly what was going on, where they had to be when, and to make sure all of their gear was together before I left.

What could possibly go wrong?

I had just gotten to the doctor’s office with the boy when my cell phone rang.  Unfamiliar number.  Stomach lurches.  It was Carson.  Crying.  On the cell phone of the father of the other boy at our bus stop.  Lainey had fallen and had a bloody nose.  I told her to take Lainey home, put her on the couch and give her some tissues for her nose, I’ll be home in 30 minutes.  Then the dad got on the phone and said he had cleaned Lainey up and the bus was here and she wanted to go to school.  OK, let me think.  Tell her to get on the bus but go see the nurse as soon as she got to school.

I called the school to give them a head’s up and asked the nurse to call me after she looked at my daughter’s face.  And to please check her teeth! (parents always freak about teeth)

Ran to the Mall to return the boots I bought yesterday that I HATED the minute I got them home.

Next call was from the nurse.  Lainey was alright, a little banged up and was hanging in the nurse’s office for observation for a few minutes with an ice pack.  But Carson was very upset so the  nurse had her talking to the Guidance Counselor.

Next call was from the Guidance Counselor.  Carson was fine but is a very sensitive child (What???) and was very upset about her sister.  She felt as the older sibling she had messed up her obligation to take care of her little sister.  I called Carson’s teacher who put Carson on the phone.  I told her it could have happened even if I had been there and not to worry about it.

Next call was from the nurse.  Again.  Lainey was in pain and her temp was 99.3.  She wanted to come home.  Told the nurse I was getting my son’s prescription and would be there in 30 minutes.

My therapist told me that I had to give my children responsibilities if I wanted them to grow up and be responsible people.  Next time I will just have them clean their rooms.

The Not-So-Obvious Reasons We Should Be Thankful This Year

My daughters were asked to read from a Thank You book before Thanksgiving dinner this year.  I thought the words they read were well worth repeating.

Thank you for:

...a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning and gutters that need fixing because it means that I have a home.

...taxes that I pay because it means I have a job.

...the mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends.

...my huge heating bill because it means I'm warm.

...the lady behind me in church who sings off key because it means I can hear.

...my shadow who watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.

...the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I'm alive.

...weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means I have been productive.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Do as I Say, Not as I Did (and had a REALLY good time doing!)

There are certain questions that every parent dreads.  The first one is usually "Where do babies come from?"  Now that I have a teenage son, that question seems like a piece of cake, a walk in the park, a big softball right across the plate.  The questions I have been asked recently are the most difficult I have ever had to contemplate answering:  When did you lose your virginity?  Have you ever tried drugs? Do you regret anything you did when you were a teenager?

*blink blink*

I feel there are three basic ways to answer these types of questions, and all three start with a generous helping of Xanax:

1.  Lying - I'm not going to judge anyone who goes with this strategy, but I would like to look back and know that I never told any (really big) lies to my kids. Also, I did not want a lack of ever doing anything to be used against me, as in "You can't tell me (drugs, premarital sex, skipping school) is a bad decision because you never even tried it!"

2.  Total Honesty - Puh-lease!  "Well son, remember the movies "Fast Time At Ridgemont High" and "Dazed and Confused"?  That was mommy. Except they left all the really good parts out of the movies."  And, just like with Lying, I didn't want my past to be used as justification, as in  "Well, you snuck out of your bedroom window and went to Georgetown with your friends and drank while you were underage and went to strange parties with strange people and ended up in strange and dangerous situations and experimented with stuff and things, and you turned out ok!" (BTW, if he thinks I'm ok, he should sit in on one of my therapy appointments)

3.  It's None Of Your Damn Beeswax - This is the route I've decided to take so far.  I've told him how I feel about drugs, sex and drinking and told him he needs to make his own choices and deal with the consequences of those choices.  (Unless he's really clever like his mother and doesn't get caught.)

One of these days I might tell him the truth about some of my misadventures.  But only when he has a teenager - and a therapist - of his own.

If Life Imitates Art, then what kind of life am I living???

I know that I can't keep every single piece of artwork that my kids create.  I have three kids and only so much storage space.   But there are certain pieces that scream "Save me!  I will make you smile some day!"  Like this picture my daughter did in first grade...it is a picture of her teacher, Mr. B, and herself walking into a sunset.  Adorable, right?

Then there are the pictures that you want to save for entirely different reasons.  Also from first grade, this picture screams "Save me!  I will be evidence one day!  And by the way, I'd lock your bedroom door at night if I were you!"

Everyone Lies

It's true.  Little white lies, big obvious lies, lies of omission...we all do it or have done it.  Some are good liars, some not so much.  I'm not advocating it, but it is what it is.  Human nature.

I was an excellent liar when I was a teenager.  I think my high school friends (who better be following this blog by now) would agree - I was a quick and skillful liar and rarely got caught.  (My husband was disturbed to hear this when we met.  I promised him I would never lie to him and I have kept my word.  Or have I?  Muahahaha!)

I have come to realize that the apple has fallen far from the tree when it comes to my 16yr old son.  I should probably be grateful for that, or maybe just chalk it up to kids being brain damaged until they are well into their twenties.

Anecdotal evidence:  Today is a half day for the local high schools as the kids are taking PSATs.  I texted my son this morning and asked him to please call or text me as soon as he gets out of school and let me know what his plans were.  I didn't hear from him so around 1pm I called him.  Here's how the conversation went:

Me:  Hey boy.  What time did you get out of school?

Him:  Around 11am.

Me:  Why didn't you text me.  I sent you a message this morning asking you to text me right after school.

Him:  Really?  I never got your message.  Plus, I told you last night what I was doing after school.

Me:  **silence for several seconds**

Him:  (laughing) Oh. Umm.  I just forgot to text you.  Sorry.

Brain damaged or stupid?  You be the judge.