Strawberry Girl

No, I haven't renamed my kids again. Yet.

We just finished reading a book by the name of Strawberry Girl. It was a really great book. I particularly enjoyed it because it takes place in Florida and everyone has a backwoods, Southern accent. I can do that particular accent really well! I am not backwoods, but I am Southern. I struggled with previous books that had French, Italian, and British accents. The girls always giggle when I try those for some reason.

I think though, that the most rewarding thing about the book was that it made my girls realize just how easy they have it! I mean, they don't have to set a gazillion Strawberry plants and then water them by hand. They don't have the endless job of weeding a large plat of land. Their family's livlihood does not rest, in any part, on their shoulders.

And they realized this last week. That alone made the book worth reading. I can't recommend it enough!

The First Half Marathon!

Do you love it? Party Boy ran his first ever half-marathon yesterday! His time was 2 hours and 15 minutes.

I am so proud of him! Of course, this means that he has met his goal for the year, which also means that he does not have to suffer the punishment that he picked out if he did NOT run a half-marathon in 2008, wearing a tire around his waist on 1/1/09. Bummer.

The race was great. It started off pretty bleak and rainy, which was a bummer, but the rain let up after about 45 minutes and then it was just cold and VERY windy.

He's so psyched by the whole experience that he decided that he wants to run a marathon now.

Maybe as early as September.

Wow.

Hollywood and Party Boy

My DH (previously known as Super-Sonic Cheeseburger) has a habit of changing people's names. He either nicknames them or just forgets their names and calls them by some random name. And since most people are too polite to point it out (especially sales people that want his $$$) he just goes on calling them by the wrong name. I haven't yet figured out if he does this on purpose, or if he really is that bad with names. He won't tell me either. He just smiles knowingly and evades the question.

So anyway, daughter #2, previously known as Tater Tot, loves sunglasses. Loves them. She wears them all the time, even inside.

So, DH started calling her "Hollywood." It was funny, and now it's stuck.

We were at the mall the other day and Hollywood was, once again wearing sunglasses, as if she needed protection from all of the paparazzi flashbulbs! Dh starts in on the Hollywood nickname again. She just smiles and plays along.

And then, are you ready for this? He asks her, "You ready to go Hollywood?"

She replies, "I sure am, Party Boy."

Now at this point Party Boy is speechless and DD#1 and I are laughing so hard that we can barely walk. We were creating quite the scene at the mall.

And it's stuck now. Hollywood and Party Boy. I love it!

As an editorial note, DD#1 will now be refered to as "The Mouth of the South." Go figure. She picked that one. :)

This One is Going to Cost Me!

I discovered the coolest new toy today! Have you seen this? It's the Lowe's Garden Planner. I have spent the morning laying out my house, the fence, the patio, the driveway, and all without taking any real measurements! It's okay though, I only want an approximation of what I can do.

I got the idea to poke around on the Lowe's site because we are redoing out front yard flower beds. We wanted to use stone to surround them. I think they look great. Check out the after.


Before featured a pathetic black rubber border that didn't serve much purpose beyond annoying the heck out of me. It wouldn't stay in the ground and it did absolutely nothing in the way of keeping the grass out of the flower beds.

Now we have new lovely, castle style stones bordering the beds. We also leveled and raised the beds with manure (SSCB pronounces this muh-NOOR, which cracks me up, but I don't know why). This will enrich the soil and also improve the drainage, or so SSCB says. I'll just take his word for it. I am mostly concerned about what we will be planting this year.

Truth be told, I am not a big fan of the bushes that are in our front beds, except for the dwarf nandina that we planted. Sadly, they were already there and mature when we moved in. We could remove them, but it would be a huge pain, so I live with it. I would however like to have a few words with the genius that decided it would be a great idea to plant holly berry bushes in front of the outside faucet. Everytime we go to turn the water on we come in looking like we lost a cat fight.

Which reminds me of the best lines in the movie I, Robot:

[Detective Spooner enters Calvin's home after the demo-bot destroyed Lanning's house... with him in it. His head is bleeding and he looks really bad]
Detective Spooner: Hey, do you like cats?
Susan Calvin: What?
Detective Spooner: Cats, do you like 'em?
Susan Calvin: No, I'm allergic. You're saying cats did this to you?
Detective Spooner: How the he!! would cats do this to me? Are you crazy?
Susan Calvin: Why are we talking about cats?
Detective Spooner: [as if it were the most natural thing] Because I have a cat in my trunk and he's homeless.

Sorry about that...

Anyway, now, I am inspired and wanted to see what I could come up with to do in our side yards, which are pretty much bare right now. I think they need some work, which usually translates into money spent and back-breaking labor for poor SSCB. Awwwwwwwww.

So, as we put in our new flower beds someday I will be sure to post before and afters of that, okay?

Poor Dad

I know that I tend to mention Mom in a lot of my posts, especially lately. That's because she actually READS this blog! Hey, it's what Moms do. They support their children's lame creative endeavors. She even saved a lot of those early crafts. They replaced pictures of my brother in the memory box, which is my explanation for why we only have three pictures of him. Well, he was a second child after all.

:P

About my Dad. He did contribute to my childhood, but I don't know that he actually reads this stuff. I'll tell you about him though. He's a writer. He doesn't admit it, but he is. I remember reading some stuff he wrote when I was little. One story was about the brutal murder of a State Trooper. That one still haunts me, but not as much as the one story he wrote about Biker Boy, my brother.

That one haunts me for a different reason. Because I am a parent now, and remembering that story and the raw emotion contained within just makes me shudder. Through my eyes as a five year old there was nothing impressive about biker boy when he came home (as evidenced by the fact that I remember little about him until he was about 18 months old!). But he had some eventful early months and I know from reading that story that my parents lived those months with their hearts in their throats and their stomachs in knots. And I know this because it's how I would feel now if it were my kids.

Dad is also a photographer. Always has been. He has a unique way of seeing the world. I swear, even without a viewfinder to look through, that's what he sees. Composition, color, light, shadows, Photoshop. It's what he lives for. It's who he is!

I get my creative instincts from him. I love photography too. I enjoy writing. And I played trumpet in band in High School. Just like Dad.

Mom is a reader like me, and she taught me sew. And crochet. And cross-stitch. And how to cook.

And now you know all about my Dad, and what he is like (and a little more about my Mom).

P.S. Hi Mom! :)

Coffee Talk

When I was growing up my parents did not drink coffee. My grandparents did. They drank it black.

I did not drink coffee. Even when Starbucks came to town I only drank hot chocolates and the odd cappuchino. Not really coffee. And never black!

And sometime after Small Fry was born my Mom went over to the dark side and started drinking coffee. I blame the pod machine that made custom coffee stocked in every flavor imaginable with unlimited cream and sugar supplied for free in her office at the time. French vanilla coffee with french vanilla creamer. Oh, it was good. And when I ended up at the office with her she introduced me to the beloved, wondreous coffee maker. Never mind that I was pregnant with Tater Tot at the time. I checked with the OB/GYN and one or two cups of coffee a day was approved and so it began. My on-again, off-again affair with coffee. French Roast with Irish Cream flavored creamer and three sugars. So what if it was more cream and sugar than cream? I needed the dairy - pregnant remember?

But then I left that office for another job. A job that sadly did not have a personal cup of coffee machine brewer. But there was a Starbucks next door. So the daily coffee habit became a twice monthly iced coffee habit. Starbucks is expensive!

And then I left that job and became a Stay-At-Home-Mom (SAHM) without a coffee maker. So the coffee habit died.

And then....my mother the dealer :) made coffee last Thanksgiving while we were staying at her house. Sweet mom made a cup the way she likes it for my sweet SSCB (Super Sonic Cheeseburger).

Two months later I had to go to Wal-Mart and buy a coffeemaker, French Vanilla Folgers and creamer because my husband was craving coffee. It is now a daily addiction for both of us. Sad. But, I still won't drink it black!

Now? McDonald's is my new dealer. Their vanilla iced coffee? Oh, it's GOOOOOOOOOOODDDDD! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I try to make it at home and can only create a pale washed out version that passes for iced coffee but it lacks the richness of the McDonald's version.

The point of this post? Thanking Mom for getting me addicted. Thanking Mom for getting SSCB addicted. And forcing me to buy a coffee machine. The first hit's always free, right?

And you want to know what the real injustice here is? Mom quit coffee! Can you believe it? Now she's pushing Chai tea! Oh, the humanity. Thankfully I can brew the tea in my coffeemaker. Mmmmmmmmmm, chai tea. With milk and sugar.

But I'll wax nostalgic on the chai some other time!!

:)

Here's a little Freebie for you!

American Girl

Tater Tot picked out her birthday present. Kirsten.

She was adamant that she wanted a blond haired, blue eyed doll. Much to Small Fry's chagrin. Small Fry had been campaigning for weeks that Tater Tot should ask for Felicity because Small Fry is the proud owner of Felicity's best friend Elizabeth.

And because Tater Tot loves her sister (and because Small Fry no doubt led TT to believe that it was a given that they should have matching dolls) she went along and at first told us she wanted Felicity.

And then I pulled TT aside and explained that she could have any doll that she wanted. She didn't have to get Felicity, that all of the dolls could play together!

Her eyes lit up! It was a toss up between Kit, Julie, and Kirsten. The tie-breaker? Kirsten has blue eyes and long blond hair.

Now she just has to wait for her birthday. What a cruel, cruel world.

And does it bother anyone else that Julie, the latest historical doll, is from the 1970's? That is really disturbing to me. I mean, come on...what's next? Jessica of the 80's complete with parachute pants and a Member's Only Jacket? Ugh. I don't like to think of the 1970's as historical. It just makes me feel old.

We are TOO Scientific!

We Small Fry was born she had a club foot. Thankfully our pediatrician recommended that we take her to Scottish Rite Hospital for Children. She was enrolled in a new therapy for club feet that was far less painful and less invasive than the traditional therapy.

When she was three she had surgery to ease her range of movement. It was a great experience. She really only remembers that she got lots of toys when she got to the hospital and that she was coddled and kept entertained by the wonderful staff!

After her surgery we were called and asked if we would participate in a scientific study involving children with club feet. Sure! We love science. So, every two years we pack up and head to the hospital and the scientists hook Small Fry up to leads and reflective balls to measure her muscle strength and gait. She walks around and they video her and we all have a great time.

We also go in every 18 months or so to see her orthopedist and he checks her progress. The kids love going to the hospital because, well, because everything there is all about kids! They have toys and books and games and we never go that we don't come home with something fun. I am not even sure that they understand that it is a hospital.

And a really positive side-effect has come of this. SRHC doesn't just treat club feet. They treat lots of different childhood afflictions. The girls have gotten used to seeing children on crutches, in wheelchairs, with walkers and in every state imaginable. They probably won't realize for a long time just how lucky they are to be healthy and whole, but I imagine that someday they will look back and understand just what a gift they have in that.

All the Smelly Animals

We went to the zoo on Monday. It wasn't a holiday, unlike Good Friday, when we last attempted a zoo visit, along with the rest of the free world.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny and just the right temperature. The animals were more active than I have ever seen them and we usually try to go to the zoo a couple of times a year.

We gave each of the girls a disposable camera for them to take pictures at the zoo. Tater Tot used most of her film on random pictures around the house. "Oh, Mommy, can I take a picture of the light fixture?!?"

Small Fry took lots of pictures of the first three animals that we saw, despite warnings that the film was limited. Poor kid, she was thinking of Mommy's digital camera that has room for 400 some-odd pictures. She had 27. Life really isn't fair, is it? Everything was okay after I promised to share some of my pictures. I am sooooooo nice.

Here's some of what we saw:


A red wolf. As many times as we have been to the zoo, we have never seen this wolf. It has always been safely hidden in the foliage at the back of the exhibit. The girls were so excited to see it come walking right up towards us.


Here is one of the coyotes that put on quite a show for us! As we were standing there discussing that these coyotes were so much smaller than their brethren that we see around town they started howling and yipping. I could not believe just how loud they were. It was painful and yet, I couldn't walk away. It was a haunting sound and had such a rhythm to it.


Here is the poor jaguar that is forced to live next door to the coyotes. The jaguar was, frankly, not as enthralled with the coyote song as the rest of us. Probably because he has to listen tot he show several times a day (and most likely, night too!). As the coyotes were reaching a peak in their music the jaguar charged the fence in between them and roared. We all jumped, including the coyotes. They quieted down and the poor jaguar marched to the other end of its enclosure and started pacing.

And here is the parakeet that we fed. Actually we fed quite a few of them. They are in an aviary and you can buy seed sticks and the birds will fly down and perch on the sticks to eat the seed. It was so much fun! The buzz kill was the people that insisted on elbowing in to get at the birds and trying to "steal" birds from other peoples sticks. Sheesh!

Much to your relief I did not take a picture of the single most interesting thing we saw. The boa constrictor in the herpetarium having his breakfast. Mmmmmm, yummy.

And the Skies Opened up...

The last two weeks have been a mild form of torture for me. I am horribly scared of thunderstorms and tornadoes and all manners of meterological disturbances. I handle them outwardly for the sake of my children, but inside I am secretly tied up in knots and quaking in my metaphorical boots.

I blame my 2nd grade school in Alabama whose name escapes me. See, apparently, there was a tornado producing storm somewhere in Alabama. It wasn't over my school where the sun was shining and the birds were singing. Who knows if it was even headed in our direction... Anyway, we had to assume the tornado position and anyone who went to school in the South is wildly familiar with the tornado posistion. You get into the school's hallway on your knees, duck your head down and put your arms over your head. Duck and cover I think they call it. So, we are in the hall in duck and cover position. And we stay there. And stay there. And stay there. It felt like an eternity to this poor little girl. And here I am keeping it real. I had a runny nose. And it was running. And I had no tissue and the teacher yelled at me when I turned around to ask for a tissue. And then I started to cry which made my nose run even more. And then the boys on either side of me started making fun of me. Let's face it, I was a crying, snotty mess. My knees were starting to hurt (wood floors), my back hurt, and the teachers were at the end of the hall having a little party.

After we had been in the duck and cover position forever we were finally allowed to turn around and sit up. Maybe the tornado had moved into Georgia or something. Then the teacher griped at me for not asking for a tissue and I started to cry again. I remember that I cried at school alot in Alabama.

And Mom, I'm sorry, but it is time to come clean. Just be happy that I am not on Dr. Phil, cause I know how you feel about that.

I even got sent to the Principal's office once. I hated Alabama. I don't anymore, but I did then.

So anyway, last Monday we had a tornado in town. I was on Main Street, but it ended up going north of our house. The kids and I spent about 45 minutes in the bathroom reading Ginger Pye though. And now anytime there is rain in the forecast, Tater Tot asks if we will have another tornado.

Then Thursday, at 3 a.m. we had a massive hail storm. I really thought our skylight was going to break. I was so scared as once again the kids and I were huddled in the interior of our house. I even called my poor DH in Arizona and woke him up I was so scared. Here's a picture of the hail - yes, that is a quarter next to it.


And then last night! We had a line of storms come through that was just freaky scary. Several tornadoes, massive damage. And they all managed to miss us, thank goodness.

It was not cool. I seriously hope that does it for our rather frightening spring weather around here. Seriously.

I hope to have another freebie up tomorrow or Monday!

And Mom, I never told you half of what school was like in Alabama. It was awful. They say when you get removed from a situation that you start to only remember the good things. Not that. I seriously remember the misery quite vividly. Just piling on the guilt today, huh?

It;s okay. My therapist says I'll get over it after he makes a few more boat payments.