There's sickness in Frannieland.
Yeah for head colds! I suppose it's better than a stomach flu.
The Kid is spending this week with his dad so when I got my after school phone call it went something like this:
The Kid (with an odd amount of excitement): Mom. Dad just took me to the doctor. I have a virus in my throat.
Me: Really.
The Kid (again with glee): Yeah, it's like the size of a nickel and it's sticking out.
Me: Sticking out of what?
The Kid: My throat! It's totally cool! But it hurts when I swallow.
In the back ground I can hear his father: Stop poking at it. It would serve you right if it pops and you get a mouth full of puss.
The Kid: You know I'd just spit it in a cup so that I could show you.
Me: EEeeewweee.
Again from the back ground: DO NOT LICK ME!
Me: Bahahahahahaha.
Remember when there was Road Kill Love? Well now we have Virus Love.
I told you we were awesome.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Madness has set in
The madness would be all mine. Just in case you were keeping track.
This weekend I managed to squeeze in the following:
- A shopping trip with my parents and the Kid. He needed a new winter coat.
Can you say North Face? Oh how I love their things but not their prices. The grandparents generously sprung for the coat but the picky teen bicker fest I could have done without.
Teenagers.
He ended up with the black fleece with no hood. If you're from the northeast this should come as no surprise to you. Apparently that is the winter uniform for ages 13-18, boys and girls alike.
-Booking our family vacation for next July. That pretty much cemented my insanity.
This entailed 62 Internet searches and 9 phone calls to my dad to discuss time-share trading options.
When it was all said and done I had managed to book a three bedroom villa for two weeks in Orlando, FL by trading two Efficiency weeks from West Palm Beach, FL.
Score!
I also found airfare for $189 round trip, non-stop! And a rental car from Alamo for the two weeks for $384. (Both of those prices include taxes.)
Go ahead and say it. I am the Vacation Goddess!
I also managed...
- 1 football game,
- 1 baseball game
- and grocery shopping.
Thank god it's Monday so that I can go to work and relax.
What did you do this weekend?
This weekend I managed to squeeze in the following:
- A shopping trip with my parents and the Kid. He needed a new winter coat.
Can you say North Face? Oh how I love their things but not their prices. The grandparents generously sprung for the coat but the picky teen bicker fest I could have done without.
Teenagers.
He ended up with the black fleece with no hood. If you're from the northeast this should come as no surprise to you. Apparently that is the winter uniform for ages 13-18, boys and girls alike.
-Booking our family vacation for next July. That pretty much cemented my insanity.
This entailed 62 Internet searches and 9 phone calls to my dad to discuss time-share trading options.
When it was all said and done I had managed to book a three bedroom villa for two weeks in Orlando, FL by trading two Efficiency weeks from West Palm Beach, FL.
Score!
I also found airfare for $189 round trip, non-stop! And a rental car from Alamo for the two weeks for $384. (Both of those prices include taxes.)
Go ahead and say it. I am the Vacation Goddess!
I also managed...
- 1 football game,
- 1 baseball game
- and grocery shopping.
Thank god it's Monday so that I can go to work and relax.
What did you do this weekend?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
How can you NOT be aware? It's everywhere.
I don't keep up with the news. Mostly because it depresses me but apparently you'd have to be living in a cave to not know that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
I'm not sure why we should only be aware of one type of cancer, frankly I think it should just be cancer awareness month but whatever.
This one's gonna be tough...
My best friend's mom, Mrs. C., passed away my freshman year of college, the Fall of 1991, from cancer. She had suffered from various forms my entire life. It was as if my own mother had died.
I remember her like I saw her yesterday.
She was the receptionist/bookkeeper for the dance studio that my best friend and I practically lived at when we weren't at home.
She taught us how to make jello eggs. The mess was extra.
She introduced me to Mexican Hats, i.e. fried bologna, and told us not to lean to close to the pan or we'd light our hair on fire.
She taught us to do the Twist in the living room while playing records on the largest record player I'd ever seen.
She let us keep kittens in the basement even though Mr. C said we couldn't have them.
She didn't care if we got dirty playing in the backyard or if my hair was brushed.
She taught me to never quit by witnessing her multiple attempts to quit smoking. My favorite being when she would walk around the house with an Oreo cookie between her fingers instead of a cigarette.
Because the many years of chemo had taken it's toll she had various red haired wigs that she exchanged depending on the season or her mood. "Because sometimes you just feel like curly hair," she'd say.
A trip to the toy store was always an event. Long before insurance companies paid for reconstruction for breast cancer survivors she had figured out a way to beat the system.
"Nerf balls, she'd say. Cut'em in half and you're an instant C, without all that pesky weight."
She always made us laugh.
I miss her everyday.
Not just in October.
I'm not sure why we should only be aware of one type of cancer, frankly I think it should just be cancer awareness month but whatever.
This one's gonna be tough...
My best friend's mom, Mrs. C., passed away my freshman year of college, the Fall of 1991, from cancer. She had suffered from various forms my entire life. It was as if my own mother had died.
I remember her like I saw her yesterday.
She was the receptionist/bookkeeper for the dance studio that my best friend and I practically lived at when we weren't at home.
She taught us how to make jello eggs. The mess was extra.
She introduced me to Mexican Hats, i.e. fried bologna, and told us not to lean to close to the pan or we'd light our hair on fire.
She taught us to do the Twist in the living room while playing records on the largest record player I'd ever seen.
She let us keep kittens in the basement even though Mr. C said we couldn't have them.
She didn't care if we got dirty playing in the backyard or if my hair was brushed.
She taught me to never quit by witnessing her multiple attempts to quit smoking. My favorite being when she would walk around the house with an Oreo cookie between her fingers instead of a cigarette.
Because the many years of chemo had taken it's toll she had various red haired wigs that she exchanged depending on the season or her mood. "Because sometimes you just feel like curly hair," she'd say.
A trip to the toy store was always an event. Long before insurance companies paid for reconstruction for breast cancer survivors she had figured out a way to beat the system.
"Nerf balls, she'd say. Cut'em in half and you're an instant C, without all that pesky weight."
She always made us laugh.
I miss her everyday.
Not just in October.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
How do I love thee? Let's start with road kill...
Nothing says I love you like road kill. I wonder what the Road Kill Anniversary is? Anyone?
Anyway, I digress.
Saturday as the BF and I were leaving the house for the Littlest Kid's football game we noticed that up the street at the far edge of our front lawn someone had hit a possum.
Me: Aww crap.
BF: What?
Me: Someone hit a possum. See *points*.
BF: Ugh...crap.
Me: You know the Littlest Kid is going to stage a funeral in the middle of the road as soon as he sees it.
BF: Maybe he won't notice. It's pretty far up the road.
Me - more to myself than anyone else: Maybe. (But I'm not convinced.)
So football game comes and goes and around 2 o'clock as we're leaving the house yet again for a baseball game I notice that the possum is still there but now he's looking a little worse for the wear. Traffic and all.
Crap, again. Nothing good is going to come of this, I think to myself.
Getting out of the truck after the baseball game...
The Chica: Ewwweee, someone hit a possum!
Me - in my head: Shit.
The Littlest Kid - panic stricken: WHERE??!!
Me: Don't look. It'll be fine.
Once inside the house:
LK: Are people going to keep hitting it? How will it get picked up? Can he feel anything?
Me - in my head: OMG! OMG! OMG! We're going to have to take care of this thing. Out loud: Don't worry everything will be fine.
So, I go outside to find the BF in the garage and ask him how strong he thinks his stomach is? Needless to say, off we went armed with yard gloves, double lined black trash bags and a snow shovel.
I held the bag, since I was the one with the gloves and the BF did the shoveling.
The BF: Lower the bag. He's kinda falling apart.
Me (with my eyes squeezed shut and my teeth clenched together, while holding my breath): Okay. Is he in?
Him: Yeah, I'm going to go find some bleach for that bag and then throw up. Be right back.
So trash day is Tuesday (today) and the possum has been resting quietly on the side of our house until then. The Littlest Kid was relieved that he was no longer in the road but wanted to bury him in the backyard. We convinced him that wasn't the best idea considering the dog would most likely dig him up and yeah, picking up after that would just be fantastic.
So how much to we love thee? Just get us the garbage bags and a shovel and we'll show you.
Having kids is awesome!
Anyway, I digress.
Saturday as the BF and I were leaving the house for the Littlest Kid's football game we noticed that up the street at the far edge of our front lawn someone had hit a possum.
Me: Aww crap.
BF: What?
Me: Someone hit a possum. See *points*.
BF: Ugh...crap.
Me: You know the Littlest Kid is going to stage a funeral in the middle of the road as soon as he sees it.
BF: Maybe he won't notice. It's pretty far up the road.
Me - more to myself than anyone else: Maybe. (But I'm not convinced.)
So football game comes and goes and around 2 o'clock as we're leaving the house yet again for a baseball game I notice that the possum is still there but now he's looking a little worse for the wear. Traffic and all.
Crap, again. Nothing good is going to come of this, I think to myself.
Getting out of the truck after the baseball game...
The Chica: Ewwweee, someone hit a possum!
Me - in my head: Shit.
The Littlest Kid - panic stricken: WHERE??!!
Me: Don't look. It'll be fine.
Once inside the house:
LK: Are people going to keep hitting it? How will it get picked up? Can he feel anything?
Me - in my head: OMG! OMG! OMG! We're going to have to take care of this thing. Out loud: Don't worry everything will be fine.
So, I go outside to find the BF in the garage and ask him how strong he thinks his stomach is? Needless to say, off we went armed with yard gloves, double lined black trash bags and a snow shovel.
I held the bag, since I was the one with the gloves and the BF did the shoveling.
The BF: Lower the bag. He's kinda falling apart.
Me (with my eyes squeezed shut and my teeth clenched together, while holding my breath): Okay. Is he in?
Him: Yeah, I'm going to go find some bleach for that bag and then throw up. Be right back.
So trash day is Tuesday (today) and the possum has been resting quietly on the side of our house until then. The Littlest Kid was relieved that he was no longer in the road but wanted to bury him in the backyard. We convinced him that wasn't the best idea considering the dog would most likely dig him up and yeah, picking up after that would just be fantastic.
So how much to we love thee? Just get us the garbage bags and a shovel and we'll show you.
Having kids is awesome!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Random Kid Convo of the Week
Before we left the house for school this morning...
The Kid: Ma, where are the fingernail clippers?
Me: Under the sink in the bathroom.
Now one would think that after that short conversation I could assume he used them before we left, but no, in the car on the way to school he pulls the clippers out of his pocket.
Me: You'd better be throwing those out the window. (as I roll down his window)
Him: Of course....mostly.
Me: What? Mostly? Out. The. Window.
So, I'm humming along to the radio, clip, clip, toss out window, and out of the corner of my eye I see his left arm move.
Me: Did you just throw that in the back seat?
Him: No, I clipped it, and it FLEW in the back seat.
Me: Well, where is it? Ewwweee, pick it up.
Him: Can't find it.
Me (freaking out a little on the inside): It better not be in my hair or anything!!!
Then he laughed.
Brat.
The Kid: Ma, where are the fingernail clippers?
Me: Under the sink in the bathroom.
Now one would think that after that short conversation I could assume he used them before we left, but no, in the car on the way to school he pulls the clippers out of his pocket.
Me: You'd better be throwing those out the window. (as I roll down his window)
Him: Of course....mostly.
Me: What? Mostly? Out. The. Window.
So, I'm humming along to the radio, clip, clip, toss out window, and out of the corner of my eye I see his left arm move.
Me: Did you just throw that in the back seat?
Him: No, I clipped it, and it FLEW in the back seat.
Me: Well, where is it? Ewwweee, pick it up.
Him: Can't find it.
Me (freaking out a little on the inside): It better not be in my hair or anything!!!
Then he laughed.
Brat.
Friday, October 15, 2010
You're Judging Me Right Now
Mommy Loves Stilettos wrote a post about judgement yesterday and I absolutely love it.
It amounts to sheer perfect in my book because she's right. We're all judgemental in our own way. We just can't help it, I bet you're judging me right now for calling you judgemental.
I'll give you some examples:
Last week while on vacation the Chica and I couldn't help but mock the families that were dressed alike but what really got us going was the one group with a family cheer. No I am not joking. We witnessed them doing it at the Ticket and Transportation Center while waiting for the boys to come out of the bathroom. We were totally judging them.
I come from a fairly long line of Army men, they've served in World War II, Vietnam, and have been stationed overseas in Korea. If you open your big mouth to utter one harsh word about the service men and women from this country you'd better make sure I can't hear you because your freedom to open your big-ass mouth was paid for by their sacrifice. I'm judging you and the odds that I'm going to punch you are not in your favor.
If you plan outrageously expensive vacations but can't pay your rent. I'm judging you.
If someone is giving you money every week, you plan outrageously expensive vacations and still can't pay your rent ALL while complaining to anyone who will listen that you're broke. I'm judging you times 100.
If you are obnoxious and rude to your server whether it be in a restaurant or a retail store. I'm judging you.
If you think your child does no wrong. Juuuddddgggiiinnngggg.
If you are a religious fanatic who tries to foist your whack-nut principles on the world...can you say Sister Wife? Judging.
Now on the opposite side. There are things I could care less about:
If you're gay. Don't care. You can like/love anyone you want.
If you're a different race than me. Don't care. You are who you are. Love it like there's no tomorrow.
If you make more money/have a better job than me. Don't care. I'm doing alright with what I've got.
If you have a bigger/better house, car, phone, shoes....whatever. Don't care. I like what I like and I've got what I've got. And I'm good with that.
Let the comment judgment begin.
Ready?
Go.
It amounts to sheer perfect in my book because she's right. We're all judgemental in our own way. We just can't help it, I bet you're judging me right now for calling you judgemental.
I'll give you some examples:
Last week while on vacation the Chica and I couldn't help but mock the families that were dressed alike but what really got us going was the one group with a family cheer. No I am not joking. We witnessed them doing it at the Ticket and Transportation Center while waiting for the boys to come out of the bathroom. We were totally judging them.
I come from a fairly long line of Army men, they've served in World War II, Vietnam, and have been stationed overseas in Korea. If you open your big mouth to utter one harsh word about the service men and women from this country you'd better make sure I can't hear you because your freedom to open your big-ass mouth was paid for by their sacrifice. I'm judging you and the odds that I'm going to punch you are not in your favor.
If you plan outrageously expensive vacations but can't pay your rent. I'm judging you.
If someone is giving you money every week, you plan outrageously expensive vacations and still can't pay your rent ALL while complaining to anyone who will listen that you're broke. I'm judging you times 100.
If you are obnoxious and rude to your server whether it be in a restaurant or a retail store. I'm judging you.
If you think your child does no wrong. Juuuddddgggiiinnngggg.
If you are a religious fanatic who tries to foist your whack-nut principles on the world...can you say Sister Wife? Judging.
Now on the opposite side. There are things I could care less about:
If you're gay. Don't care. You can like/love anyone you want.
If you're a different race than me. Don't care. You are who you are. Love it like there's no tomorrow.
If you make more money/have a better job than me. Don't care. I'm doing alright with what I've got.
If you have a bigger/better house, car, phone, shoes....whatever. Don't care. I like what I like and I've got what I've got. And I'm good with that.
Let the comment judgment begin.
Ready?
Go.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Just ask me. I'm sure I have it in my bag.
Today I want to talk about what you carry with you when you leave the house.
Handbag, purse, wristlet, clutch, hobo, satchel...
The list is practically endless. I always went with the adage that if I could fit my purse over my head it was too big.
Let me explain.
If given the means and opportunity I will carry around half of my worldly possessions. Similar to Ally Sheedy's, 'Ready to Jam' girl from the Breakfast Club. She had everything in that bag just short of a panini press and she probably would've had one of those too if they existed in 1985.
I'm a Coach girl by nature, I have them in all sizes, but really anything that catches my eye will do. I'm currently carrying a no-name patchwork, leather satchel. I love the bag but what I don't love is that I have to go diving elbow-deep to find my keys or my phone which inevitably sink to the bottom under a crazy amount of crap that I'm not even sure I need.
I've tried just carrying a wristlet but my phone won't fit inside it. And let's be honest, when was the last time you left your phone home?
Never? Me too.
I've also taken to carrying a hobo style bag but then I have another tote that I carry my 'work stuff' in. Some days I look as if I'm running away from home or beginning my alternate life as a bag lady. I'm only a shopping cart and a flowered hat away.
I'd love to change it up alittle for Fall since I've been carrying my pink and white Coach for the summer. I have a burgundy mid-size Coach bag that I used last Fall but it tends to get overloaded with crap.
So tell me...
What do you consider absolutely essential to have on you when you leave the house (other than clothes) and what do you carry it in?
Handbag, purse, wristlet, clutch, hobo, satchel...
The list is practically endless. I always went with the adage that if I could fit my purse over my head it was too big.
Let me explain.
If given the means and opportunity I will carry around half of my worldly possessions. Similar to Ally Sheedy's, 'Ready to Jam' girl from the Breakfast Club. She had everything in that bag just short of a panini press and she probably would've had one of those too if they existed in 1985.
I'm a Coach girl by nature, I have them in all sizes, but really anything that catches my eye will do. I'm currently carrying a no-name patchwork, leather satchel. I love the bag but what I don't love is that I have to go diving elbow-deep to find my keys or my phone which inevitably sink to the bottom under a crazy amount of crap that I'm not even sure I need.
I've tried just carrying a wristlet but my phone won't fit inside it. And let's be honest, when was the last time you left your phone home?
Never? Me too.
I've also taken to carrying a hobo style bag but then I have another tote that I carry my 'work stuff' in. Some days I look as if I'm running away from home or beginning my alternate life as a bag lady. I'm only a shopping cart and a flowered hat away.
I'd love to change it up alittle for Fall since I've been carrying my pink and white Coach for the summer. I have a burgundy mid-size Coach bag that I used last Fall but it tends to get overloaded with crap.
So tell me...
What do you consider absolutely essential to have on you when you leave the house (other than clothes) and what do you carry it in?
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Return
Ah...vacation is over *sniff* and I have to return to work tomorrow but I wanted to share a couple of things I learned whilst spending 10 days together.
1) Not Everyone Loves Roller Coasters
On Expedition Everest
The Chica: OHMYGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWD!!!
The Chica: Where's the Yeti?!
The BF: We passed it. The ride's over. We're supposed to be getting out now.
Her: Oh. Ok, well good.
The boys laughed about that one for about three days.
2) Clothing can be optional
Back at the condo - I can hear this convo from the kitchen while the boys were in their room.
The Littlest Kid (from the bathroom): What's the score?
The Kid: Sigh, would you put some clothes on.
The Littlest Kid: I'm coveerriinnggg my dooooodddllleee.
Yeah, he was singing that last part.
I laughed about that for a few days too.
Now we're home.
And they want to know when we're going back.
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