Facebook and you could win a $100 gift card or Plum goodies."
Today I'm putting my 'mommy'self in my 10 year old's shoes.
Pondering what it would have been like to be in the middle of a basketball game, with a crew of monkey kins sitting idly by watching.
Wondering how it must have felt when those crazies started acting up.
This story may or may not have happened. However, it is very likely that it did. All participants in the below story, may or may not be monkeys, until they are diagnosed as such by a practicing physician.
All guilty parties shall remain un-named unless I name them, then well, they'll be named. Let the trial commence.
--- x ------
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
UPDATE: And the winner is . . . . . . .
I have always wanted to go to Italy (more specifically Rome!) Something about the architecture and just their way of living seems so magical!
Please contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org in the next 48 hours to collect your prize, otherwise a new winner will be chosen!
I am a caretaker. And I love it.
I take care of everybody, all day long, and it fulfills me.
But. . .sometimes. . . .
I neglect to take care of myself.
"How do you forget to eat breakfast Nicole?" my husband lectures. "And then, continue to miss lunch too? With nothing to drink all day?" I just nod my head because I know, there is no excuse. But I try.
"It's just that. . .I have so much to do. . .and then I had to get on the computer, and go get the girls. . . " Everybody is staring at me now. Nobody believes a word I'm saying. Excuses, excuses.
So, on yet another morning, my husband is off to work, and I gather up the kids for an outing, without eating breakfast. Everyone piles into the car, and I look to my right on the console, and there sits this. . .
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Shelbi: Can I have some tea?
Shelbi: Which tea can I can have?
Me: Either one.
Shelbi: Well . . . .what kind are they?
Me: Black or Green.
Shelbi: Which one's the black?
Me: The brown one.
Shelbi: Which one's the green?
Me: The yellow one.
Shelbi: That doesn't even make sense.
Me: Just drink the tea.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
"Your horse is a mirror to your soul, sometimes you might not like what you see. . . Sometimes you will." - Buck Brannaman
I'm about to go all hocus pocus on you.
All woooo-waaaa, weirdo, strango, lady typing in her underwear on you.
A few days ago, I took my family to see a screening of Buck. Buckshot. The movie about Buck Brannaman.
The Horse Whisperer, some might say.
I don't have a horse.
I don't want a horse.
Never really been around many horses.
So, I don't even know why I wanted to see this movie.
But I did. Really bad. So badly, that I cancelled swimming, basketball, and volleyball for the day just so we could make it work.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Smiles you are to me.
Grinning cheesy toothless smiles, that make my heart glow.
You are swings, swinging high with the wind whooshing by.
Your rhythm is contagious.
It's the rhythm of your life, and you never miss a beat.
As you sway and move your hips, and gently purse your lips.
Your voice blazons like a drum.
Commanding all to hear, as our hearts follow its quake.
We can tell we are alive, in the presence of your vibe.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
This weekend, my husband's family had a reunion.
It was in the country, where it's hot. Sweltering, blistering, and humid.
You know the kind of hot, where in the movies the people are depicted as sexy as they walk around in the 100 degree weather as their bodies shine with a dew from their sweat. Beads of moisture delicately rest on their noses, and their hair seems like its wet from a shower, versus wet from the humidity. And then to cool themselves off, they walk around in their daisy dukes until they find a SouthernLiving front porch to sit on while they eat an orange popsicle?
Friday, June 17, 2011
Yesterday Soledad (4) woke up with a really bad tummy ache.
So she couldn't go to the last day of swimming lessons. It was water safety day and she was super bummed. Mr. Woo promised her a Frozen Strawberry Lemonade from McDonald's if she didn't whine and moan too much. So after lessons, I drove by Mickey D's and purchased my baby her treat.
Happily she slippity slurps on her sweet frozen piece of heaven. The other three girls mope and moan at the injustice.
"It's not fair. Every time I miss swimming lessons you don't buy me a slush." One complains.
"Well, maybe that's because you haven't missed lessons before." I counter.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
If a crazy looking animal popped on the scene, she'd say, "Don't worry, and don't act like you're scared. You're bigger than it, just be cool. It's more afraid of you, than you are of it."
And usually, I looked at her like she was nuts, and ran and got the heck out of dodge.
But now, in front of my children, I try to be brave. I try to kill spiders without squirming. I try to pick up worms and act as if their wiggly pulsating bodies, bother me not. I try to act nonchalantly as some random smelly dog, tries to topple me over. I really do try.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I sat on the shore, with the waves lapping against my feet, as the foam tickled my calves. The baby sat next to me digging in the sand, and intermittently throwing sand in my ear. The sun was beaming down, warm on my skin. The breeze tousling my hair.
I turned around, and could see Warwick sitting in his lounger, waving his hands frantically.
Huh. Wonder what he's saying? Wish? Ish. Now he's waving his hands in and out. Lambada. He wants to go dancing? Now he's pointing his finger towards the ocean. Towards my kids. Huh. Never mind.
I tilt my head back, stretch my legs out, and let the sun continue to warm my skin.
"Mommy! Mommy!" Shelbi runs up breathless, splashing water up my noise.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I told you this was going to happen. And now that it has, I'm all broken up about it. It doesn't help that I had a really crappy yesterday afternoon. Really crappy.
To make a long story short, my kids picked some tomatoes . . . . . .
and it turned out like crap. And we had to eat Sonic burgers for dinner.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
We were at basketball game yesterday evening. Shelbi was running up and down the court frantically. Jumping for the ball, rebounding like a pro, blocking shots. She was so on it.
Bella (7) was in the hallway playing with her friend Rachel (8).
Phoebe was crying at the top of her lungs because she wanted to eat a 10 day old bag of Cracker Jacks that had melted together to form on giant piece of stale caramelized popcorn.
Soledad, was running around acting like a 4 year old nut.
I got up from the stands, and walked Phoebe and Soledad out to the corridor, so their screaming wouldn't bother the lady that was sitting next to me, who pointedly gave me a look from a place where fires burn hot, ALL THE TIME.
Monday, June 6, 2011
A cute little Maltese.
She wasn't a puppy, she was already potty-trained, and a sweet little thing. Her owners couldn't keep her because they lived in an apartment and she barked too much. As you may have guessed, this cute little Maltese had a name by which it was called. My sister's husband wanted to call the dog "Sade" after the R&B/Jazz smooth vocalizing goddess. Clever? Well maybe. If he hadn't had 10 other cats named after the exact same diva.
Much to her husbands chagrin, she decided to keep the dog's given name.
Which was/is Bella.
YOU may noticed I have a daughter named Bella. I told her this. She laughed and laughed and laughed.
Friday, June 3, 2011
My palms are sweaty.
The music is loud, pounding furiously in my head as my heart skips a beat.
MacTaggert has pulled out a gun, and time stops.
Damn I love this movie.
Why haven't my genes mutated into something cool like the power to change my appearance or telepathic tendencies?
I love superheroes with accents.
I really wish I hadn't purchased that X-Large drink.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
When I was a kid my mom used to tell me stories about her tomatoes. Her excitement would make me drool. When she'd tell these stories, as with everything, I created my own mental pictures of the tale she was weaving.
In the early 1970's, a few years before I was born, there lived an enchantingly beautiful woman. Stunning in any light. Long dark hair, radiantly golden skin, and piercing brown eyes. She had a heart and smile that could charm even the coldest of spirits. She was in her mid twenties, beautiful beyond all measure, and she lived in a Fortress of Gold.
She was young and married to a soldier that guarded the gold and her fortress. They had a little child, who like her mother, was sweet beyond all measure, and loved by the couple immensely.
|That's her, the enchantingly beautiful woman. And her soldier is standing next to her.|
He's disguised as a Groovy Cat.