No Way Yes Weigh

I am just over being sick. I was pretty sick. After visiting Pop-Pop in the nursing home I began to feel sick to my stomach - not all that unusual - however, this time the feeling got worse, and worse, and worse. I was stuck in bed for a few awful days. We got a call from the nursing home saying that they were put under quarantine because of an intestinal bug. I told them that was like closing the barn door after the horse got out. They were not amused. My family was so very sweet to me, offering me tea and toast and applesauce every few hours. Just when I thought I was feeling better and ate some stew - wham! I got hit again and had another few awful days in bed. I was feeling sick and weak and doubled over with stomach pains . . . but I had to get up . . . I sat up in bed, moaned, but kept going . . . I put one foot on the floor . . . then the other . . . I stood up while the room spinned around me . . . I put one foot in front of the other and forged on . . . each step was torture . . . but on I went . . . you may be wondering where I needed to go at that moment . . . slowly . . . I made my way over to the . . . scale . . . I lost a miserly 4 pounds!!! . . .

My poor husband thought I was delirious when he came into the bedroom and I was muttering to myself and laughing in a sick sort of way, over and over again, "No way, yes weigh . . . no way, yes weigh ........................

Tea Kettle P.S.

So, my husband went to return the infamous tea kettle that he got me for Christmas. His conversation went something like this:
"I want to return this tea kettle."
"Sure, is there anything wrong with it?"
"Well, it doesn't whistle."
"Okay - (typing and talking) d - a - m - a - g - e - d."
"No, no, it's not damaged, it just doesn't whistle."
"Okay - (typing and talking) whistle broken."
"No, no, it's not broken, it just doesn't have a whistle."
"Okay - (typing and talking) defective."
"No, no, it's not defective, it's not suppose to have a whistle."
"Okay - (stumped) what do I type in this box that asks me why you're returning it?"
"Is there room for - husband is an idiot?"
"Okay - (typing and talking) d - a - m - a - g - e - d."
"Whatever."

Barley:

- spilled hot tea on my computer

- spilled the plumber's coffee and lapped it up and then ran around in circles for about 1/2 hour

- chewed and destroyed a chair

- put his paw in the pizza

- ate a precious picture of a friend of mine who went to Jamaica and hand delivered cards and gifts made by my children to a home for deaf children - the picture showed my friend handing a picture of my girls to this child we sponsored until her graduation. Irreplaceable.

- bit me in the thigh as I was stepping over the gate we use to keep him in the kitchen, which caused me to throw my plate of toast and opened water bottle down the hall

- ate a whole box of tissues that I keep in the car (yeah, I was wondering why he was so quiet while I was driving)

- ate a granola bar, a guitar pick, a magnet, a candle

- was found chewing on a sneaker - to this day we have not figured out whose sneaker it was or where the other one is

- knocked out our Internet service for 2 days

So, when the puppy club called to see if we were bringing Barley to the nursing home - yeah, we said, "No."

Listen Up Ladies

Not that I speak from experience, just a random thought that went a little wild . . .

Here is the same advice given to you in different voices:

Confucian style:
Wife who drives husband crazy must live with insane man.

Joyce Meyer style:
Listen up ladies! Come on now! If you don't want to live in a nut house, then don't drive your husbands crazy!! Can I get an Amen.

Erma Bombeck style:
Stop the insanity! Leave your husband alone.

Martha Stewart style:
Please don't drive your husband crazy because then you'll have to add a room to your home to keep him. First, you'll need some 2 x 4's and sheet rock. Just frame out the room like I did here. Don't worry about painting or papering the walls because you'll be tacking up mattresses. If you go to K-Mart you can pick up my collection of "Soothing Sheets". You need some strong glue. I just happen to have some glue I made from an old mare of mine that died. Glue down the furniture. For his drab straight jacket you can perk it up with some pearl buttons, I just happen to have a few I made from fresh water pearls that I harvested in my back yard. Use satin ribbon for the arm wrap around and be sure to tie it securely around the back. Finish it off with a beautiful bow.

King Solomon style:
It is better to stay outside on the roof of your house than to live inside with a nagging wife. Proverbs 21:9 CEV

My style:
It is easier to set up a sturdy ladder to the corner of the roof than to expect to be sane during peri-menopause......................

The Basketball Game

It's always interesting to see myself through the eyes of others. That being said, I will post a letter my daughter wrote, in my voice, to the Tech school where my son plays basketball. This was the situation: I went to his game to sit in the stands behind the players, to cheer his team on, to shout words of encouragement when they missed a shot and words of praise when they made one. I even wore the school colors to show my school spirit. I was as excited as any proud mama would be to see her freshman son play for a few minutes on the Varsity team . . . . I sat with the other fans in the crowded stands, grinning from ear to ear, with my camera in hand, ready to snap a shot of my son . . . oh, the anticipation, oh, the excitement, oh, the . . . vulgar language, the cursing, the rudeness, the feigned coughing and sneezing while the other team attempted foul shots, the shock to my senses. . .

Dear Tech,
I am a psychopathic conservative Christian mother who is delusional enough to think my voice can make a difference. The fans at your games are obnoxious and foul-mouthed. I have not yet realized that the majority of the teen population has degenerated into vulgar perverts, which is why I was shocked. I felt that I needed someone to blame for this behavior so I chose the administration and would like you to fix it, even though you have no more control over the students than their parents. Have a pleasant day.

My actual letter appealed to the school's desire to present itself as a class above the rest and included the following statement:

I would love to see Tech fans express their enthusiasm and support for their sports team in a manner more befitting a high school of this standard.

fast forward to next game. . .
. . . Mr. K. was in the stands making sure you could hear a pin drop while the other team was shooting foul shots and when the ref made a bad call no one yelled expletives. Thus, proving to my daughter that one voice can make a difference. Of course, now only 3 fans come to the games ...............................

Recycle This

So, I'm walking down the street in my neighborhood on recycling day with Bart, who I affectionately call Barley (Marley with a B). I love walking on recycling day. I get to peek at my neighbors eating habits. The Italian folks have huge tin cans of olive oil in their recycling bin, you know the kind I mean, the ones with all the art on the can - olive groves and ladies in flowing white dresses- do they bathe in it? How do you consume so much olive oil? They also had cans of tomatoes; crushed, chopped, pureed, sauce and paste, and cans of olives, too. They also had an empty quart-size container of basil, some diet soda cans, a mayonnaise jar and that's all I could see because Barley was walking too fast. Then there are the chubby neighbors - they put out one small bin with yogurt containers and diet soda - I figure they must eat out a lot. Then there is the house with the 2 college students and busy parents, their cans (3 to be exact) were loaded with beer bottles, Mountain Dew bottles, a Maxwell House coffee can and Dinty Moore Stew cans (I didn't know they still made that stuff). Then my next door neighbor, sure enough, has empty laundry detergent bottles, just like every week - they must be the cleanest folks on the block. Our new neighbor, Chucky we call him, who never speaks to anyone, never spends time outside, always wears black pants and dark glasses and we can't tell how old he is - guesses range in age from 25 to 55, hmmmmm, what's he got in his recycling bin . . . . we'll never know, he puts a lid on it................................

For those of you who are curious, the peri-menopausal lady with 3 teenagers and a chocoholic husband, had 2 cans filled with peanut butter jars, marshmallow fluff containers, Hershey's syrup bottles, water bottles, jelly jars, a can of pink beans and black beans, salsa jars and diet soda bottles. You can tell a lot about a person from their garbage, that's why we keep a lid on ours, too......................

You Wiener!

So, I have this friend. She's not elegant or savvy. She's not concerned with some of the same things you think of woman being concerned about. She doesn't dye her hair or wear jewelry. Her eye glass frames are from the 90's and her coat from the 80's and her husband from the 70's. She rescues cats and dogs and rodents and birds and bats. She hasn't been familiar with a musician since Frank Sinatra and she still watches Wheel Of Fortune. She does, however, follow politics and remembers every one's birthday and never fails to make you smile. And she almost never lies. She's honest as the day is long. If she tells you something, you can take it to the bank (how does one measure honesty in hours and why would you want to take a truth to the bank? Why not the church? Or the cleaners for that matter?) So, I had a conversation with my friend the other day and we got to talking about weight. She said, "Oh, what are you worried about?" I told her I felt like a sausage, too much meat inside the casing, busting out at the ends. She said, "Ah, you're not a sausage, you're a wiener!" Never in my life have I been so happy to have someone call me a wiener. You're a real pal and just a wiener yourself...............

Academy of Love

So, for the past 4 years I have been asked to speak at the local college about homeschooling. The class I am speaking to is made up of the folks who are currently in or wish to be in leadership positions in the community. The day long class is to educate these folks in the educational system in our community. Last year, the line up of speakers was as follows: Head Master at **** Academy, The Superintendent of the Regional High School, the NJ Commissioner of Education, The Dean of the Community College, The Superintendent of the Elementary Schools and me. I feel wholly inadequate to speak. Each year I am convinced that I will not be asked to return and each year I am asked to speak again. So, when Mr. Gully called me and asked me to speak this year, I said, "Are you sure you want me?" He said, "Yes, please come at 1:00." I asked, "Am I giving the right kind of information?" He paused and then said with sincerity, "I like your speech best." I was wholly surprised and asked why. And he said, "Simply because I like the way you talk about your children. You really love them." Well. . . . I guess I do............

Resolutions

So, the folks that know me, know I like alliterations for my New Year's resolutions. Balance and boundaries; healing and harmony; sweet and simple . . . . so, this year I said to my daughter, "I'm not going to do an alliteration for my New Year's resolution. Instead I want to do . . . uh, wait, what do you call it when the end of the words sound the same?"


"Rhyming, duh."


"Thanks Smartypants. But, all I can come up with is "sharing and caring" or "lying and dying" and that's just no good."


"You've got issues, Mom. Keep working on it."



Maybe that's the key to my resolution "issue" this year, just keep working on it. If I learned anything this year, it was that I have a lot to learn. Just when I thought I could keep quiet no longer and went against my top resolution for 2008 (listen more, talk less) and said all I wanted to say (plus some) I realized that I would have been better off if I had said less. It's hard to listen when you're talking (ranting). So, I will keep working on it. I think I'll keep my resolutions from last year and

maybe add a few,

for me and you,

and go to the zoo,

to see a ewe,

and a bird or two

And I need a tissue,

because

I've got a rhyme issue...........................

Resolved

I just can't come up with a New Year's resolution. No matter how hard I try or how much I think about it, I can't come up with anything. I resolve to . . . um . . . er . . . humpf . . . .

Hmmmmmmmmm. . . . .I must be perfect. . . . . .

10 minutes later. . . .

Okay, so I came up with one:

Practice humility.

Happy New Year All (all both of you that read my blog).