No Wonder We Take Forever

Shane graduated from 8th grade last week.  Yes, "graduated" from EIGHTH grade.  I know, stupid.  Only, not so much.

The school the boys attend stops at 8th grade, so leaving can be a bog deal, especially for the students who have been there since kindergarten (or before).  They go all out, caps and gowns, diplomas, a dinner after with a DJ and photo booth.  The girls wear pretty dresses and look 25; the boys wear dress pants and ties and look like dorks.

As family members attending the graduation, we are supposed to dress nicely so as to not embarrass our graduate.  Brian wore a suit.  He had showered that morning, so all he had to do was change his clothes.  It took him maybe ten minutes to get ready and that included helping two boys tie their ties.

It took me longer than ten minutes.  That morning, I got dressed and make Andrew's lunch then drove him to school.  I met a girlfriend and we went to get coffee and pedicures, then went to two different stores looking for dress pants for Andrew.  Which I would have to hem with stitch witchery when he got home because everything is too long on him.  When I got home I  showed Brian the pants I bought and he said, "I have some he can wear, but you will have to hem them."  Seriously??  We could have gotten manicures too but no, I had to find pants for Andrew.  That were at home the whole time.  Men.

I showered for the second time that week (don't think that's gross, you've done it too) and started with the makeup.  I don't wear makeup often so it's always a production and it never ends well.  I had to remove and reapply mascara because the first batch was too clumpy.  Which meant lotion, primer, under-eye brightener, concealer, the eyelash curler, and eyelash primer.  Good lord.

So, the biggest issues for men are to pick out a tie that matches the suit, and to not wear too much awful cologne. Oh, and maybe not white socks.

Women need to do their hair with at least two round brushes and product and a curling iron or flat iron.  Oh, and hairspray.  We need makeup - lotion, primer, concealer, powder, lip stuff... probably more but I don't know.  Then a bra that matches the underwear and can be concealed under the dress.  And the dress.  And flawed-in-our-eyes-body-parts-containment garments.  And shoes.  Matching shoes.  And jewelry.  Not just the wedding rings, either.  Earrings, a bracelet or two, a necklace, and a watch and I'm sure I'm forgetting something. And a purse.  And oh my god really?  All to sit in a church for a 90-minute ceremony that doesn't really mean anything? It's not like he's going to college in the fall.

Not bad for an old lady

I had to renew my driver's license before my birthday so I went online and was able to renew it with a few simple clicks.  It arrived in the mail today and the new expiration date is 2020.  I'll be 53 by then? (wow, that was not an easy sentence to write but I won't care by then.)  Funny thing, though, when you renew your license online you get to keep your picture.  The picture that they took when I was 40. So that's not too bad.

Spring has Sprung

This week is Spring Break.

When I was in school, Spring Break was always around Easter.  For a long time, it was the week before Easter and then when I was in high school, planning went all to hell and SB was the week AFTER Easter.  I only remember that because when I told my mom about the change, she called the school to confirm.  She thought I was trying to get out of school for two weeks.  If that were the case I would have done another note.

Notes were great.  I would write something lame, like "please allow Kathy into the library after school" and I would get my mom to sign it early in the morning when she was still mostly asleep (and as I write this, I am wondering where that fish smell is coming from? It's been driving me nuts all day).  After she signed the note, I would erase what I had written in light pencil with something in pen along the lines of "please excuse Kathy at 10 for a doctor's appointment."  All that to get out of school early.  I should have at least done something fun.

Anyway, Spring Break usually meant going to Michigan or Ohio to visit relatives.  Or we would stay home and do nothing.  When I was in college, one Spring Break was spent in LA with my sister, and the next one was spent at home, repainting my bedroom.  I didn't do the Florida thing because I never had money, my parents wouldn't pay for it, and I hate crowds. 

So this year we are home and we don't have company.  I love it because I get a vacation too.  Vacation from driving to school, making lunches, homework issues, practice and game issues.  I do not, however, get a vacation from "what are we doing today?"  While I have a break from the few things I mentioned, I don't have a vacation from laundry, cleaning and cooking (PS I did all three today while one child hasn't bothered to change out of his pajamas OR brush his teeth).

Maybe tomorrow I'll spend the day in my pajamas. I will, however, brush my teeth.

Feel the Burn

I am the best athlete ever.

I have visions of myself at the gym, running on the treadmill.  Properly using the machine.  Taking a class without laughing at myself and being asked to leave (which did happen once when I was living in Los Angeles).  There are more visions -- hot yoga.  Running in the neighborhood.  Participating in one of those mud competitions, where you get beer at the end.

Maybe I should rewrite that sentence up there.  I am the best athlete ever in my head.

I am lazy and uncoordinated.  Easily intimidated, and I don't like being around a lot of people. We have a membership at the YMCA in our neighborhood.  It's maybe 2 miles away, an easy bike ride.  During the summer, I am there every day because the boys have swim team.  It's the perfect excuse to work out, while they're swimming.  Only I don't work out.  I drop them off and go back home.  I'm really looking forward to this summer because they will be 11 and 13 and can ride their bikes to practice.

The Y offers several different classes, and sometimes I look at the schedule and think, "oh I could do that class." And a few years ago (okay, several years ago) I did take some aerobics classes.  I even got to the point where I was going twice a week and I was on time.  I stayed in the back and was a little slower than the rest of the class, but I went. And because I didn't immediately look like a super model, or my friend Shawn, I quit going.  So far, though, I haven't gone because when I go, I will see people I know and they will know the routine and will be better.  Which I know is the lamest excuse ever.  Have I mentioned I'm lazy?

There's a Y near Shane's school.  I could drop him off and go work out.  Or, since I drive the afternoon car pool, I could work out before picking them up.  I don't know anyone at that Y, so wouldn't have the lame idea of people laughing at me in my head.  My neighbors Jane and Phyllis walk every morning.  We have a nice 3-mile loop that takes about an hour.  I almost never go with them, even though Jane calls me every day to ask.

What the hell is wrong with me?  Is it really that hard to get off my ever-increasing ass off the couch and go to the gym?  Apparently.

I think I need professional help.

Sleep Talking

Shane talks in his sleep.  Like,  a lot.

The first time, that I remember, he was 2.  We were staying at a lakeside cabin and he was sleeping in our room with us (it was a really small cabin).  As we were getting ready for bed, I was looking at Shane, so peaceful and snuggly in the huge bed.  Out of nowhere he sat up, smiled and said "CHEESE!"

(He also had a bout of night terrors that lasted about 10 years, but this is about what he says when he's sleeping.)

Now he's 12.  And he talks but it's a little racier, language-wise.  Most of the time we can't understand what he says (hence the "mumble" below), but three talks are in the bank and are, really, just awesome.  And hilarious.  Especially the last one (just wait!).  Here they are, in a random order since I can only remember when the last one happened since it was just last week:

Number 3 - After dinner with friends who have a very energetic puppy.  "Mumble mumble mumble fucking dog mumble mumble"

Um, hello?  Where did we learn words like that?

Number 2 - In Orlando for the weekend, all 4 of us in the same room.  "Mumble mumble" and then he yelled "shut the fuck up!" and more mumbling.

There's that word again.  Fortunately I've only heard it twice.  I know it's not a nice word, and really I don't like to swear in public, but without the F word, it's not the same.  Please be assured you won't be reading the F word anymore, unless I write more later about what he says in his sleep.

Number 1 - this just happened last week.  Shane wandered into our room in the middle of the night and climbed in bed with us.  "Mumble mumble leave me alone mumble." A little later, "mumble I KNOW" kind of loud, followed by "well what about this" and then, and I swear I am not making this up, he farted.  For real.  A real, live, fart followed immediately after "well what about this."

I am still laughing about that one.

Andrew doesn't talk in his sleep.  He snores.

I love my boys so much, and I love that they have no idea I have a blog.

Thank god that's over

I'm getting all organized since it's January.  New Calendars all over the place.  I have one that I write in every day and I'm amazed I still have it since I lose everything.  Well, maybe not lose.  Misplace and can never find again is better.

I'll be organized for about a week.

Welcome to My World

Welcome to my little blog world.  I have no idea what I am going to write about but I need an outlet and I keep misplacing my spirals.  So we'll see what happens.  Maybe I'll tell you a little about my world and if you're interested you can come back and see what we're up to.  Maybe I'll do some airing of grievances if I can find my Festivus pole, and I might brag a little about my family.  I don't like to do that in public though because it's really annoying.  It's great that little Johnny is Citizen of the Month at school, because he certainly isn't at home.

I have two children (neither is named Johnny).

One wants to be a Navy SEAL, and is pretty sure he will become one on account of he's on the swim team every summer.  He's very confident that way.  I don't know if it'll work though.  I was just driving my other son home and this one called three times to find out where I was.  I don't think I'm allowed to go to SEAL training with him.

The other takes forever to finish anything (I was going to say a task, but it's everything, all the time).  For example, math homework.  One problem in and, "Can I take a break?  That was really hard."  And the next morning he has to get up early to finish the homework he started 15 hours before.  Or cleaning his room, which still isn't finished.  It could just be he doesn't want to do his homework or clean his room.  I've found cups in that little area of the fridge where you get water, empty cups waiting to be filled.  "Hey, where's my water? Oh, I forgot."  Seriously?  It was 10 seconds ago! He may take forever to do things because it took him almost 17 months to figure out how to walk.  He could have a conversation with you before he could walk.  Very busy mind, that boy.

So two boys.  They are really great kids, and there's much more to them than wanting to be in the military and an inability to finish cleaning a room.  You'll find out more about them if you hang around.  There's a husband, who I've known since I was 11 and he was 13.  And a dog, two cats and a fish.  They're boys too.

I love being the only girl in the house, most of the time.  I think the only girly thing we have in the house is the comforter in the guest room, and it's girly because it has flowers on it.  But the flowers are red and green and brown.  Girly and not girly.  

I like to think I'm low maintenance because I don't wear makeup or get mani-pedis or wash my hair every day.  But I'm not.  I have a drawer full of  makeup (that I rarely wear but still...), a closet full of cute shoes and a huge box of purses.  I love to go shopping but end up wearing the same thing all the time.  I have long hair that I've been coloring forever.  I have no idea what color it is anymore, and I'm afraid to find out.  Having long hair kind of requires me to be high maintenance because long hair takes forever to maintain.  I can't cut it because I don't want to.  I had really long hair when I was little and one day my mom cut it off because I wouldn't let her brush it.  So now I have long hair that needs to be cut because I can't get a brush through it.  Maybe my mom had a point.

So I think that's a nice introduction.  I'll be back, hope you will too.