Big City Momma!

Today's moms are an incredible hybrid of sorts. Made up of one third Super Woman, one third Bat Girl and one third Wonder Woman, super heroes, if you ask me moms are busy super humans. So it's no wonder that moms, after doing everything they need to for everyone else barely have a moment for themselves. And I'm sorry to tell you ladies-it's beginning to show. But fear not-I may have just come up with a solution!

Busy moms everywhere, take notice!

I'm giving my expert beauty advice to moms on the Big City Mom's blog, click HERE. 

And trust me when I tell you-it gets better. And just when you think you got this mom thing down,  you are left missing them when they grow up and fly the nest. So enjoy it while you still can, but make sure you take a little time for yourself along the way.

The Lady In Yellow

She sat next to me on a crowded, skinny, two-seater airplane. She was a larger woman and I noticed her at the gate, thinking quietly to myself that she looked unsure. I wasn't feeling a hundred, so when we got to our respective seats I sat down quietly and closed my eyes. I noticed during take off that she had closed her eyes too. As I stated before, the plane was narrow and crowded so the fact that the larger woman sitting next to me, the lady in yellow, had her elbows in my gut became something that I knew I couldn't control.

Yet I didn't mind. 

As I restlessly slept on the plane I would open my eyes every now and again and looked at the woman next to me. Her skin was as dark as a bar of chocolate but it was luminous and beautiful. Her two-toned dreadlocks were swept up into a bun on top of her head and the sea shells that were expertly woven in between the locks made her appear much more stylish than that of a woman her age. Her fashionable leopard print scarf let me know that this woman knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to look like. But it was her smell that got me.

She smelled like my childhood.

She was chewing on bubblegum that smelled exactly like the bubblegum of my childhood. And that scent? It was so pleasant. I found myself wanting to put my head on her shoulder because she felt safe. The fact that our arms were smashed together because of the close proximity of the small seats didn't bother me at all. I liked her yet I hardly knew her. She was a woman of faith. I could tell because with her she had a 1997 biography of the Reverend Billy Graham and she opened it and began to read it while we were on the plane. I thought it adorable that before we took off she asked me exactly how to put her cell phone into airplane mode. I showed her where to find it in her settings AP. Obviously it was important to her to conform to the rules.

I must have been coughing a bit, because she asked me if I was OK, and asked me if I had allergies. I told her I had been visiting my son in college. He was sick with an undiagnosed strep throat that was mistaken for allergies. It had proceeded over the weekend into a full blown, swollen throat so painful that he could hardly swallow water. The fact that my emergency trip to North Carolina that Sunday to take him to the hospital was not lost on her. We agreed that I spent the most contagious 24 hours with him and I told her I hoped that I would not get sick also. 

We chatted a bit about being a mom and that when your child is sick, it's no matter where you are; you go. I found out she was from Kenya, just visiting relatives in NC and stopping briefly in my home town of Boston before flying to Amsterdam then on to Nairobi. It was her first visit to the United States. She had 3 grown children, each living in different parts of the world, and a new grandchild. I told her jokingly as we landed that she could now add Boston to the places in the US she has been, even for a short time. I helped her with the bags she had stowed above our seats, and I wished her a good trip and safety as she traveled back to Kenya.

Then I said goodbye and walked away from the Lady in Yellow forever. 

But I still thought about her. I'm thinking right about now she must be landing in her homeland, hopefully safe and tired. Maybe her children will be waiting to greet her as she arrives, maybe not. But I want her to know that somewhere, someone is thinking of her and hoping she makes it home safely. 

How The Hell Did That Happen?

Really? It's already over?

The summer flew by and I hardly realized it was over. A waitress at a restaurant last night said to me when I ordered scrod, "Oh cmon, you can do better than that. It's the last weekend of the summer." Then it hit me. It's Labor Day Weekend already? I guess I have been so focused on Frick going to college and Frack's golf that I didn't even give it a thought.

I didn't really do much this summer, but I stayed close to home; close to the heart.  I'm over the BBQ thing and I'm not feeling a melancholy sense of dread like I usually do at this time. I'm actually looking forward to fall. I've got some great things coming my way.


 Highlights:

• I'm going up to Maine to attend a birthday party for a dog. Yes, a birthday party for a dog, a great excuse to have a party. It should be a good time. 
• Frack got his braces off on Wednesday and damn! if my baby boy isn't drop dead handsome! I keep asking him to see his smile, and it's driving him crazy. Too bad, is my response. I paid for them, so I wanna see them. Kid's got a killer smile, and I keep telling him his face is so much brighter! That's the best adjective I can use to describe it. We told him to get a stick, cuz he's gonna be beating the chicks off with it when he goes back to school. He's also playing light's out golf right now. Kid's a stud.
• Frick is LOVING college and surprisingly, she calls pretty regularly. I'm so proud of her, she is fulfilling her dreams right now and becoming the person she will be for the rest of her life. I miss her like crazy, but I am so excited for her and happy that she is enjoying this wonderful time in her life. I wanna go to college. 

Peace to you and yours for a safe and happy Labor Day. 

So This Is Really It.

This is it.

Her time has come. It's time to leave the big nest and fly. Fly she will, of that I have no doubt. It's me I'm worried about. How am I ever going to get through this? I'm gonna miss her so much it already hurts like crazy. What will I do without my baby girl?

Truth is, I'll be fine. I did the exact same thing that she is doing this weekend 28 years ago and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Part of me is jumping up and down for her in excitement, and part of me is dying inside. She's going to be great. She's going to thrive. She's going to fall in love with her city. HER city, because that's what it is now. And I've never been more confident that she's going to be EXACTLY where she belongs.

The pride is swelling up in my throat, right next to the lump that is omni-present these last days. I know I have to let her fly free. But part of her is holding back too, and I wonder if she's picking up on what I'm feeling. Part of her is scared and part of her does not want to go. But we both know that this is good for all of us. This is what growing up is all about. This is what all that hard work was for. One look at her and I know I've done good. She's awesome, and I couldn't be more proud of who she has become. Keep her safe New York city. She's my whole world.

So, I'm embarking on this journey with her today and because I'm a helicopter hover-er, I'm staying  in the city until Monday. I will not be returning to the bloggersphere until Tuesday, August 28, 2012.

She's going to be great.
I'm going to be a mess.

I'm going to try to play it cool in front of her because this isn't about me.
God grant me the strength to get through.

"Children have to be educated, but they have also to be left to educate themselves."-Ernest Dimnet

"Can I Have A Moment To Myself?"

The following matter is herein referred to as, "The Wooby Wars"

This conversation may or may not have taken place recently in The Daily Dandy household, before someone goes off to college soon.  

Allegedly. 

A Telltale Sign That I Have Way Too Much Time On My Hands

Get paid to watch TV? Where do I sign up?

While in NYC with my BFF, she showed me this new app called Viggle that actually earns you rewards for watching TV shows. Really? Really. Viggle users can accrue rewards points while watching TV shows that are redeemable for premiums. They are offering gift cards for Starbucks, Amazon, Burger King, iTunes and many more with your redeemable points, and things like free monthly subscriptions to Hulu and Spotify and even big ticket items like a MacBook Air or a Kindle.

Viggle uses some kind of software sound recognition, like a Shazam app, that actually listens to what TV show the user is watching. By "checking in" to a specific show, the user is awarded points depending on how long they stick with it. Half hour shows, are awarded 30 points and hour long shows, like CBS's Person of Interest are 60 points, and if you change the channel  into the show, your total is then knocked down to 10 points.

But, these days, with the Olympics, I have been accruing over 100 plus points a night with the lengthy Olympic coverage. There are also daily bonus shows where you can earn extra points for watching. Last night, the Olympic was 100 point bonus, plus 185 points for the Track and Field and Beach Volleyball coverage( I was late for check in). The nightly bonus shows are clever way to get viewers to watch something that they normally would not watch and sometimes it's even enjoyable. There are also nightly Viggle Live games that earn points for answering questions about the featured shows. The challenge for me seems to be to wrack up the most points I can on one given day. And who doesn't love a challenge? All for doing something I'm going to be doing anyway?

This morning I received 75 bonus points for watching a 60 second Pepsi Ad, and I'm wondering if I will accrue extra points for each time I watch that ad. (I'll keep you posted) In two days, I have accrued over 3000 points, which puts me a quarter of the way to 9000 points for a $5.00 Starbucks reward card. For 18,000 point I can earn a $10.00 Sephora egift card.

But the truth of the matter is this, I don't do it for myself. You know who came to mind immediately when I was shown this "Watch TV, Earn Rewards" Viggle concept? My kids, of course.

 Maybe now, I'll be able to share with them the fruits of my TV labor. I'm certain these are rewards that they can fully understand.

Teen Mantras

 So a friend sent this to me over the weekend, and I loved the whole message. Even if you don't have teens, these are worth reading and sharing.

1. Yes, your freshman year counts towards your GPA for college entrance. Screw it up and you’ll work for crap wages your whole life. 

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2. No means NO. In every possible circumstance.

 

3. Join every sport, every club, every after school activity no matter what the cost. It’s cheaper than bail.

4. Repeat after me: I am never in that much of a hurry…I am never in that much of a hurry. Now say that every time you get behind the wheel. It will save your life and that of your best friend in the seat next to you.

5. Don’t smoke pot. It ruins your

 short term memory. (Did I already say that?)

6. Don’t ever get a credit card. Ever. You earn it or you live without it.

7. If I yell at you, it’s because I love you. And also, because you pissed me off. To avoid the latter, stop being an idiot.

8. Make a vivid picture inside your head of every great moment of your childhood. You’ll need those to get through adulthood.

9. Make snow angels as often as possible.

10. Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.

11. Be always benevolent. Yes, that’s a word. Look it up.

12. Call me for a ride even if you are so drunk you barely know my number. I’ll probably be mad for a while but I’ll respect you for calling and I won’t kill you. Riding with someone who is drinking will.

13. Be a leader, not a follower. Unless you are doing stupid things, then follow the kid with the highest GPA.

14. Love your siblings, even when you don’t like them. Some day you will be trying to get them to take care of me in my old age. If they are mad at you, you are stuck with me.

15. I’ve been there, done that on more things than you can imagine. I’m not stupid and I know what you are doing. I was once you (times ten).

16. Work hard at everything you do. Anything worth doing is worth doing your best at.

17. Cover it. (Enough said.)

18. When I tell you to clean your room, do not point at my messy room and raise your eyebrows. I’m trying to raise you to be better than me.

19. Learn to type; to budget; and to pray. All are equally important.

20. Never be sedentary. Some day soon you will no longer be able to move like that. Enjoy it.

Special Is As Special Does

I had the WORST day yesterday. I mean the worst.

It started out bad and got worse as the day progressed. It wasn't just one thing but a culmination of a lot of things and I was quietly, secretly trying to hold it together. Then, the biggest hit of all came and it was like a tidal wave of bad about the one thing that you can get me with 10 out of 10 times. My kids. And this time it wasn't just one, it was both.

As you know, we have been in celebratory mode around here with Frick graduating and all, and it all culminates this weekend with a big, blow out, $$oiree for her on Saturday. It's the party she never had, but I think she deserves and I made sure to "order it up from the caterer" (this will make sense in a minute) Then the blow came and it left me sick to my stomach.

I'm still in limbo over my feelings, and as I sit here today and wait for the rental company (that there is no turning back on), to come and set up the massive tent, tables, chairs and dance floor, I have to ask myself, "What the hell are you doing?". Then like a little grace from God, just when I had asked for it and needed it, it came to me in my morning paper. It's not really the answer, because there is no answer, but it's a statement. A mission statement to all those parents who are feeling like I am right now.

A local English teacher addressed the students at commencement last weekend and his speech entitled, "You're  Not Special" put it into perspective for me. He said what needed to be said to all of us parents and students and overachievers who think our shit doesn't stink. Boy are we wrong.

Basically it was a much needed bitch slap to all of us who get caught up in the race for perfection.

"You are not special. You are not exceptional.

Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you... you’re nothing special."

Was my cape really that obvious?

What the heck? It was like this guy was talking directly to me and his words were never truer. He did what needed to be done and he told it like it needs to be told. As a parent in the community, an educator and mentor, he gave it to them straight, just like the real world undoubtedly will. 

"Yes, you’ve been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped. Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again. You’ve been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored. You’ve been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie. Yes, you have. And, certainly, we’ve been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs. Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet. Why, maybe you’ve even had your picture in the Townsman! And now you’ve conquered high school... and, indisputably, here we all have gathered for you, the pride and joy of this fine community, the first to emerge from that magnificent new building...

But do not get the idea you’re anything special. Because you’re not."

Guilty as charged and justly so, because we may have taught our over scheduled, over achieving children that it's more about the medal and less about the race. He then goes on to encourage the graduates to pursue a more fulfilling life, one that puts the focus on hard work and achieving. Because Frack's three week trip to Uganda this summer NEEDS to be about the children they are helping and the school they are building, not the resume he is building. The irony is not lost on me. 


“The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you’re a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer.”


Amen to that. Because I will certainly remember it this Saturday as I'm cutting the check to the caterer. 

This Is Now

I can't believe it's finally here. This is now.

This is that day, when you give birth to your child and you look at her with hope and joy in your eyes, this is one of the days you think of; someday she will graduate.

This is the day I have looked at from a distance maybe a thousand times but never really saw it until today, never really felt it until today.

This is the day she has been looking forward to forever and I reminded her, with a tear in my eye, to stop and take a moment and breathe it all in.

I can't believe I have a child that is graduating. My child, the one I coddled and took care of and wiped her nose and scratched her back and soothed her fears. Today she graduates from me too, and the woman before me is powerful and bright. She will illuminate the world just by being in it.

Today we celebrate her work ethic and her determination to succeed. It's all culminated in the pomp and circumstance of ceremony. I'm so proud to be her mom, today and everyday. She is a gift.

This is the day.
This is now.

My Name Is Candy And I Am A Helicopter Mom

So I saw this commercial yesterday and I'd be lying if I didn't tell you it cracked me up. It was for the new Capri Sun Super V juice drink and the commercial made me think about Frack and about how I sometimes, maybe a little, kinda sorta may hover a little too much around my boy. At times.

He's 16 and these days he just tells me to back off, but I remember the days of hovering well.

Damn if I didn't chuckle and see myself in more than a couple of scenarios. I just love that little punk that much. But really, he's almost a man now. Stop hovering mother...

Separation Anxiety: A Re-Post

I had the most horrid dream last night.

Seriously, I'm kinda freaking out. In my subconscious.

The thing is I didn't know I was freaking out. I know I have been thinking about it. A lot. But I think I know exactly what the dream is about. My subconscious is doing all the tough work, while on the outside I appear cool as a cucumber.

Yeah, I think I know what I'm freaking out about. As a matter of fact I'm quite sure, I know what I'm freaking out about.

I dreamed that Frick was...abducted. Horrible. I don't even want to give it credence because it was a nightmare, but when I woke up, I realized why it happened. It's quite clear I'm having separation anxiety. And evidently, I'm having it bad, because in the dream I couldn't breathe; the pain was so palpable. I guess I'm grateful that my subconscious is working it out, because come August, I may be able to leave my baby girl in the middle of Manhattan, stress free. I won't say worry free, but by then I will have hoped to have come to terms with her leaving and made my peace with it.

Today I decided to do a re-post from a time when I was my kid's universe.... and while I'm glad they have grown into who they are today, I sure do miss those days.

This post debuted on Feb 26, 2009


Sometimes I miss the good old days, back when my kids were really little. Those were the days of innocence, before they both became TWM (Teens With Mouths) and I was their God. I was a stay at home mom and since Frick and Frack are only 19 months apart, we pretty much did everything together. My two amigos and I; they were then and will always be, the yin to my yang. We are still very close, me and my kids, the difference between then and now is that now they know everything and have all the answers. My bad for not seeing it their way. These days I get a lot of, “What-ever mom!”

Anyway, yesterday I was over at Vodka Mom’s blog, I Need a Martini Mom, and she had posted a wonderful, sincere note of gratitude to all of her 541 blog followers. (I stand in awe. The woman is a legend) In perfect Vodka Mom fashion she closed the post with a funny story about her kids which gave me the inspiration for today’s post! Many thanks to Vodka Mom and her wicked sense of humor! (here in Boston, wicked is a GREAT thing! like wicked pissa!)

So, as I told you, when the kids were babies, the three of us were like matching luggage. We traveled everywhere together. Where ever I went, they would follow, especially around the house. If I were cooking, my babies were on the kitchen floor, happily playing with wooden spoons, whisks and pots and pans. If I were watching TV with them, it was usually a Disney Sing Along Video, and we would play together as they sang along with the Disney classics. If I had to go to the bathroom, they would follow me right behind me into the bathroom and find something to get into while mom took care of business.

The only time this bathroom business got tricky was when AUNT FLO came to visit. To tell you the truth, I never really thought much about the manner in which I ushered them out of the bathroom during those times, but I knew I had somehow managed to do it. As I said, I never gave it a second thought until one day, when my baby girl was sitting on the bathroom floor opening and closing the doors under the bathroom sink while I applied my make-up. She came across a box of tampons and proceeded to open it up and take one out. She studied it intently for a few moments. It was almost like I could see her brilliant little mind working overtime to figure out what the strange item was. She held up the single, un-opened Tampax and said triumphantly, “Look mommy. This is your privacy!”

My little future brain surgeon had figured it all out. The strange item equated to mommy’s privacy. I soon realized that I must have consistently held the Tampax in my hand while ushering my babies out of the bathroom while explaining, “Mommy needs her privacy.”

A child’s mind is a wondrous thing. Oh how I miss those days!!

Little Miss Woods, Comma, Elle, Part II

Encore! 

It was a long weekend and a great time was had by all. Sorry about Friday bloggers, but we had out of town family that came in to see the show with us and the schedule was quite hectic. It's amazing to me that my child is graduating high school and going off to college. Like, when did this happen? I never gave my permission to this, yet the whole thing continues to progress getting realer and realer as each day dawns. 

And Frick? She's growing and maturing into quite a young lady. She had all her girls from the show stay over on Saturday night. They "rolled" in about 1:30 (her curfew is 12 midnight) after a late night Wendy's run, and all 8 of them went down to our basement where they did Lord knows what till Lord knows what time.

Actually, I do know what Lord knows what is. While making the crew breakfast on Sunday morning, I could not locate the salt shaker. 

"Where is the salt?" I inquired.

"Oh, we had nachos late last night, downstairs," they responded. 

This seemed logical and I dismissed the entire thing until I went downstairs to assess the damage done to the basement and I found 2 shot glasses and about 20 chewed out lime wedges strewn around the coffee table. The missing salt shaker immediately clicked.

I chuckled, and gave Frick a free pass. Like mother, like daughter. 

Anyway, we are all slowly coming down from our high, so by request, I post this video I shot from Friday night. What a show! The Weston High School Theater Company should be quite proud. People were actually saying it was better than Broadway.

This was Frick's big moment on statge, but forgive me the horrid quality. I shot it with my 3GS iPhone and the quality sucks. But you can hear Frick, and you get the point. 

If you want to see more of Frick's performance, go to my Facebook page and click any of the three other links. Crystal's Aunt captured the videos on Saturday night and they are awesome quality. 

Bravo Frick! 

Little Miss Woods, Comma, Elle

She's been preparing for this for what seems like her whole life.

It's opening night and she's about to live a dream, in front of all of us.

She's been working so hard; they all have, and tonight they get to dazzle us with their theatrical prowess. Performing for a sold out crowd, a first time ever for their high school.  For Frick, the role of Elle Woods, is the brass ring on her high school merry go round and the proverbial "cherry" on the musical theater sundae. See? Dreams really do come true when you work hard and you believe in yourself.

I'm watching you grow and reach for those stars I always knew you would land among. I've been waiting for this day to come, but somehow it snuck up on me and caught me a little off-guard. Now that it's finally here, I couldn't be prouder.

 I'm in awe. My baby girl is all. growed. up.

Frick, I wanted to find a quote about opening night that would give you some sort of great inspiration for this evening. Something you would always remember and call to memory in the hundred of other opening night's you will have in your career. But you know your mom.... I think I found one that best puts tonight into perspective.


"The best audience is intelligent, well-educated, and a little drunk.
Alvin Barkley"

Break a leg kiddo.
xoxoxo

Who Is Smarter Than A Second Grader?

WHY GOD MADE MOMS
Answers given by 2nd Grade school children to the following questions:

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's mom like me.

What kind of a little girl was your mom?
1. My mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that mom didn't have her thinking cap on.

Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess mom is, only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What's the difference between moms and dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller and stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friends.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

The Mold Incident

So a family member is eating a sandwich the other day and notices a small, green spot on the bread of the sandwich.

Just one spot, not at all like the one pictured above. Ballistic is how I would categorize the reaction that took place. Gagging and spitting and screaming ensued.

My reaction? I laughed.

My family member didn't find the situation funny at all and began searching the Internet for proof that they had not just ingested a lethal poison.

"They make penicillin out of mold," I giggled. Again, the family member reiterated that my reaction was one of cruelty.

Seems mold is not lethal to ingest in small amounts. It's probably not advised and can sometimes cause stomach aches, but a little green dot on a piece of bread isn't going to kill anyone. Or is it? This got me to thinking.

Penicillium is more often than not the green mold that appears on store bought bread. Research says it isn't great because it risks killing off the good flora in your body and leaving the bad ones, but a small amount isn't going to make a difference one way or the other. Unless you are allergic to penicillin, which could kill you from anaphylactic shock.

We survived the great mold incident. Thank God no one got sick or went into shock, but somehow it turned out to be my fault. How could I let this happen?

Really?

My answer was simple.

When was the last time any of you bought a loaf of bread?...Silence.

Yeah, that's just what I thought.

The Sleepers

When Frick and Frack were babies, they were good sleepers. Well, Frick was better than Frack and now that I think of it, Frack was not a great sleeper at all. Never napped and had a hard time going down at night. But he's certainly making up for it now.

When they were little, 6am was not uncommon for them to rise and face the day with a cute, peppy smile on their precious little faces. Now that they are teens, they have transformed themselves into what we refer to as, "The Sleepers". Making up for lost time, most days.

And dang, if sleeping were an academic, my kids would be National Honor Society sleepers. The funny thing is that no matter what time they go to bed; early, late, whatever, they never seem to be able to rise earlier than 10 am. All of my research on this topic confirms the fact that teens need more sleep, but my goodness, if I didn't wake them who knows when they would rise? Noon? 1PM? And the day is shot to hell by then, according to me.

So this being the first full week of no school, I figured I'd give them a break. You know, let them sleep in before the summer schedule really kicks in, and they have been shattering the all time sleep records around here. Frack is a golfer, and a pretty good "waker upper", but lately it is getting harder and harder to get him to move out of his bed in the morning. Especially when he has an early tee time in some far off locale that I need to take him to. At the tender age of 15, he is a grumpy mizzer the entire ride there. Oh what a joy for me!!

And Frick? Oh the drama! All she wants lately is a "break" from her grueling school schedule, and I agree, a break is due, but she's got a job and her own wheels and yes you have to get up and go to work. I can't write you a note because you slept in today. The gas does not magically flow from a private, free gas pump. Alarm clock you say? Both have em but why use it when mom is much better at getting us up at least 10 times every morning?

I know this is a phase, and they are no different from any other teens, but for the love of God, can someone please get their own sh*t together and get the hell up when they are supposed to? I don't know how much more of this I can take. It's like sleepy hollow around here.

How many more days till school starts again?

Ode To Mother

"I'll always love my mama. She's my favorite girl." The Intruders.

Mom, you're the one.
The only one, or the one and only; depending on what day it is.

You're my best friend and my biggest fan.
And my toughest critic.

You're my center, my soul mate and the most influential element in my life.
From you, I learn all.

I may not agree with you all the time, but I don't have to. You taught me to respect what I believe in.

You may not know this but I strive to be like you. Even more as an adult.
You leadership strong and unwavering.I would never be who I am, without you.

You're the first person I need when times get tough, and you always know just what to say...whether I like it or not.

Being with you is like being home, safe and warm.

I love to laugh with you and I love your mind. Hanging out with you makes any day complete.
God damn it though, mom! Do you always have to be right?

Most of all I just love you. My mom, my friend.

And I want to wish you the happiest of day's on what should be considered the National Holiday that it is. Your birthday.

Happy Birthday mom. I love you.

Wally World's Muthas: Heff's I'd Hit That Edition

Hey Bloggers! It's a Mutha of a weekend and to salute all you mother's out there, I thought we'd play a little game with my favorite Friday crazees from WalMart.

I'm calling this the, "Heff's I'd Hit That Edition" as a tribute to one of my favorite mutha's Heff, from the now defunct, "Heff's Bar and Grill".

So say he and WE! The object here is in the comment section, you decide whether Heff would Hit That or not.




So I know my boy has standards, and I'm guessing here that Heff wouldn't hit that with a 50 ft pole. Jiggle or not, the lady has to have some manners. NOT. No way.



Miss Thang here is certainly interesting....a little rumble with the tumble, eh Heffy? I say you'd hit that.

And speaking of stripes, Freak of the week looks pretty sexy even if it may cause seizures if you stare too long. I'm thinking Heff would definitely hit that.

Star light, star bright, I'll rock you outta the stratosphere.

Oh Heff baby, let's hit it tonite.

Now this is just silly, and I'm not thinking Heff is a junk in the trunk kind of guy. No way Heff'd hit that. Maybe.

Now I know little something about skin and in my professional opinion, my girl here looks a little old to be parading the cheeks of her ass around town. Unless Heff has a cottage cheezed old lady on his bucket list, I'd say not hitting that. EVER.

And finally, my favorite. This is just the kind of FREAK groupie my boy is used to beating off with his bass at a Butlik show. Hell to the yeah! Heff'd hit that then order up some Moo Goo Gai Pan for after.

Happy Mother's Day to all you mutha's and to you Heffy, my favorite mutha.

Thanks for playing along.

Frick Does New York

College Road Trip continues!

We are in fabulous New York City visiting NYU. Frick and my nephew Wack and I are trolling the streets of New York city looking at the campus of NYU. Last night we ate Thai food and had Pinkberry and life couldn't have got much better. Today we will visit NYU'S Tisch School for the Arts and it's one of the top programs in the country for theatre and SUPREMELY selective and hard to get into.

Of course, it's Frick's first choice.

While I have always told her that she can accomplish anything that she puts her mind to, we have to be careful to manage expectations when looking at these programs. But hey, why shouldn't she shoot for the stars???

And so it begins...

What's Cookin'?

So, today is a holiday with our observance of Columbus day and my store is closed. I find myself with a happy, much needed day to bond with my family. Growing up, when my mom wanted to re-connect with us, she would cook, knowing that the wonderful, wafting scents from her kitchen would keep up all around all day. This is my plan for today. On the menu:

• Cupcakes. Seriously, who doesn't love cupcakes?

• Muffins. My Guy has requested homemade chocolate chip. No problemo.

• Chili. I got a serious hankering for some veggie chili after reading Corey James' blog today.

• Pot Roast. It's getting chilly, so tonite a nice pot roast will be a welcome meal for the troops.

Nothing makes me happier than knowing my family is eating wholesome food cooked my mom. Frick and Frack love to help in the kitchen too, so sometimes I can get them to tell me things while we are cooking together that they wouldn't otherwise. You know, they can't use the TV or the computer as an excuse for not answering any of my pointed questions. In the kitchen, it's just easy, casual, conversation...most of the time.

What's cookin' today? A whole day of family love and fun.

And I can't wait.