Dragon Child

So, I have a confession. For most of my sweet little life I have had a wee (read:massive) battle that I have waged with myself. At different points of my life I've been better (and worse) at battling this particular dragon.

My Temper. Oh, dear Lordy, my temper. I hate it. I really do.
It has really, never served me well. Truth me told, I have been the servant of my temper. Because once my temper is unleashed- I am a slave to it. It just rolls off of me. Like some kind of crazy hot steam off a mountain.

It's a flashpoint. An ugly. Nasty flashpoint. And it shames me.

Why am I writing about this today? Because I failed epically last night in controlling my temper. Oh yes, the dragon child came out the play. Much to my shame. Words have power. The words that were spoken to me- the built up the my frustration. And the words that I hurled in my anger... that I should not have said.

I know better than to let my mouth control my actions. And it hurts my heart that I failed another person so dreadfully.

Sigh.

The Potty & the Training

(note: if a blog post about potties... or pee. or poop... or any of that business bugs you... You would do well to move along.)

It might really be happening, yall.

I'm kinda (like) totally afraid to jinx it in anyway by getting to excited... but... I think the Boy is well on his way to being potty-trained.

Praise the Lord. Pass the tax rebate & Amen. Hallelujah. and Cheers.

Seriously.

After the spring & summer (and partial fall) of "no-I-don't-think-I-need-to-poop-EVER-again-thank-u-very-much"..... I was starting to have my doubts. Needless to say, we were NOT potty trained when the 1st day of playschool rolled around in September.

So, we had to be demoted down from the 3year old class (J is 3) and into the 2/3 year old class.

(I had many dark thoughts about this. Really. Can anyone tell me why the push to get the kids potty-trained *COMPLETELY* by the age of 3? Or they can't go into the "regular" class? I don't get it. Didn't then. Still don't now.)

Anyway. Moving on.

Sometime in the last month or so, the light just clicked on. The child is pee'ing in the potty. And wearing 'unnawears'. He trots his little self into the bathroom & sits on his little Elmo potty.... usually after looking at me and saying, "I'll be right back Mommy. Just a minute."

Biggidy Butt.
... my one concern- getting him to remember to actually *tell* people that he has to go the potty. We are a shade on the independent side around here. And it might kinda, sorta bug us when we aren't able to do everything by ourselves when we think we should. (we're working on that)

So proud of him. And he's proud of his Thomas the Train Underwear.
~now, if I can just get him to poop in the potty instead of Pull-ups.... which, right now is what he's insisting is the only right & honorable receptacle that poop can go into. (we're working on that too)

Thanks for the Memories

Peace out, Aggs.
Love, The Mighty Texas Longhorns.
:-)

(I have never loved field goals more than I did this past Thanksgiving.)

She Knew What She Wants...

And she wanted to go to the Fair and see the Bangles.

And a very sweet guy took her. Hee! God Bless my sweet 80's childhood and God Bless sweet E, who doesn't mock (too much).

The Bangles were great. Check it off my bucket-list, thank you very much. And the crowd. Oh, bless my heart- the crowd. The women, my age- who were little girls when the Bangles were at the top of their popularity... the women who were a weee bit older.... and the little girls in the audience who weren't even born. Oh, my.

I have rarely felt so young and so old at the same time. (and I think that's the first of many, many times in the future.)

me and E... and Big Tex

waiting on the Bangles. one of us is way more excited than the other.

(this has nothing to do with the Bangles. It's the Fried S'more.... my fav Fair food. And deserving of a yearly picture.)

The Bangles!!!

Running from Zombies

So.

Yeah, bad Bloggergirl. I know. I know. It's been a crazy month. I promise to get back on the blogging band waggon. Really!

Did I mention that I am signed up to run in a 1/2 marathon in March? No? Well, yeah. I am. Why? cause I am totally insane. There's officially no doubt. Listen, yall- I am NOT a runner. My thought & theory behind running has always gone something like this, "I'll start running when the zombies start chasing after me."

Well.

I'm running for them.
There are real-life zombies who chase after people every day.
If you want to help- strap on your running shoes! Just kidding! (sort of.) Feel free to donate on-line. I'll be throwing up a button on my blog soon & shamelessly begging people for sponsorship in the next few weeks.

Everyone have a wonderful Wednesday! I'll see yall tomorrow! Same bat-time! Same, sometimes, batty-channel!

To Recap

It's been an eventful spring, summer and fall around Bloggergirl Inc. And, while I try to keep things light and upbeat around here- as we all know, sometimes life gets in my way

We shall start with the bad news, my Grandma passed away in July. I am still grieving. I have been blessed and spoiled by being 30 and (as of July) still having 3 of my grandparents. And I was keenly aware of that. Those were some of the hardest days of my life, thus far. And... that's saying something. My Grandma was human. She was flawed. But Eleanor Pentino knew how to LOVE. And she taught her family how to love. We're all still trying to grapple with her last few months of life (they sucked). Trying to focus on the greater-than 80 years prior to those months. And, trying to figure out what life without her means now.

For me- it means, back to school. Yea. Lot's of time in the kitchen as well. I am on a mission to immerse myself in my Grandma's recipe's. Cooking. It's how I cope. There's something therapeutic in chopping and stirring and tasting and standing over a hot stove. Hitting the Italian Rosseta Stone lessons harder. I am determined to go to Rome & go to Mass for my Grandma... she wanted to go but didn't get to. And I want to go to the homeland. And teaching the little dude all of these things- and more.

Some good news? (please, oh please? you say) I have been keeping company with another J as of late. How do you like that turn of phrase? For the purposes of this blog, we shall call him "E". Just because having to "J"'s is waaaaay too confusing. I suppose I could call Jacob "little J" and the other, "big J".... but that's a little silly. And there is logic to my "E"- last name. :-)

Let's see, a little about E. He likes sushi. Me. Books. He's wicked funny. Darned handsome. Will read anything... no really, I mean it (I have the saved, emailed news articles to prove it... wait is that weird?... hmmm). And I think I've got him convinced that taking your intrepid Bloggergirl to the Great State Fair of Texas to see the Bangles (yea!) is a great idea.
He'll be thrilled, he got props on my blog.

Somewhat off the wall question that will make sense in a moment- are there any scifi cool kid geeks out there? Yes? Great. Are you reading Jim Butcher's Dresden Files? No? Then get thee to the book store or to the internet book supplier of your choice and start reading. Just sayin'.

Okay people- happy Wednesday.
Oh, before I forget! I joined twitter! Join me there!
And come back tomorrow to here my rant about facebook, twitter & my newest bit of crack, pinterest!
Peace out!

Oh, Yes I Did

I admit it.

I watched the premiere of Two & a Half Men last night.... with my dad. Why? Obviously I have no shame when it comes to television & my viewing habits are questionable. But, hey- at least I draw my line at reality tv...

Anyway. Back on point. Ah, yes. Ashton Kutcher's bare tushy.

What? there was pixelation. (pixleling? pixels?)

I laughed. I did. There, I said it. My daddy laughed. We burst out loud laughing. Evidently we have the comic maturity of 13 year olds- what can I say... I am my father's daughter in some ways.
But we did walk away with some valuable life lessons (as we always do).

Life Lessons from Last Night's Two and a Half Men
Never marry your stalker.
Hell halth no fury like a stalker scorner. (see above rule)
Teenage boys are always hungry. At all times. No matter what.
A Dustbuster can pick up anything.
A lack of emotional maturity could= Alan Harper as your savior... = naked hugging


Yes, it's a new show. Yes, if it offended you before- it will probably offend you now. No, it doesn't have an ounce of sentiment in its' marrow. But, darnit- it's funny.

"And he's a hugger."

Return of the BloggerGirl

AAANnnnnnd,

She's back.

Really, I have no excuse- save for the fact that I totally forgot my blogger password. Really. I'm not kidding. One would think that I would have the 20million or so passwords that I maintain written down somewhere, but I might be a wee bit paranoid about someone with evil intentions getting their hands on my password list & having their wicked way with my stuff....

..... if only I had been a smidge more paranoid about the thought of not remembering my password & thus not being able to ... you know, blog. Sigh.

Ah well.

Lots and lots going on here-
I'll save it for another day.
More food.
More stories.
More pictures.
.... and the ongoing saga of the epic journey of a mother & her 3 year old son who believes pooping is for chumps!

Be sure to check the sidebar. New links are coming soon! (none of the are about poop)
Until next time

Irony with a Side of Burgers

Or maybe the other way around.

Anyway.

True story. I do not like burgers. Or meatballs. Or meatloaf. Or any other compacted meat... thing. I have nothing against ground meat- I find it tasty, but when it's compacted... we've got trouble. It's a texture thing & it skeeves me out.

::shudder::

However, I make a really kicking burger.

ground beef
1 packet of hidden valley ranch dressing
worcestershire sauce (several healthy shakes out of the bottle)
hot sauce (just a shake or two)... note: sauce, not salsa, there's a difference
salt (a couple of grinds)
pepper (a couple of grinds)
... and to really make it fun, toss in some cheese crumbles- I like blue cheese

Mix it all together & let it sit and chill in the fridge for a couple of hours before you pat them out into patties and through them on the grill. And, if you have texture issues, like yours truly, then crumble your pattie up (sloppy joe style) & enjoy on your bun.... just be sure you can ignore the eye rolling from your beloved friends and family!

Peace Out!

Thinking Out Loud

I was reading a blog post today on a blog site I rarely go to. My readings are extremely varied. I like reading the thoughts of people who agree with me... but I also like to read the thoughts of people who do not agree with me. Call me crazy, but there are days when I do want to hear from people who hold totally opposing viewpoints from me- I think it's healthy. and it keeps me from getting intellectually lazy.

Today was one of those days. The blog post that is sitting on my brain revolves around a lady who doesn't support the Boy Scouts of America because they are mean to gays and people who don't believe in God. (that's really not all that far off from the words she used.) They are bigoted, she says & she doesn't support them. That the Supreme Court was wrong to let them continue in their meanness. And, by the way, here's a link where you could make the BSA be nicer- or "affirming and inclusive." And other mothers chimmed in, affirming her.

(she does support the Girl Scouts, who are nice to gays and people who don't believe in God... if you were wondering.... and posted a link where you could go give the Girl Scouts a big "Way to Go!" if you were so inclined.)

Anyway- what struck me was this..... the Boy Scouts say upfront what they believe in. There is really no mystery. Why could they want to allow people who don't believe the same things they do into their organization? And for that matter, why would people who don't believe the same things that the Boy Scouts do WANT to be involved?

Because there is more to it, I think. Because some people can't respect that others don't agree with them. Because it's much easier to hang ugly labels on people and groups than it is to say, "You know what, I disagree. But, let's agree to disagree." AND WALK AWAY.

Respect runs both ways.

Happy Birthday Grandpa

me and my grandpa, Norman Pentino- 91 years old today

The Bottom

Some days I'm just scraping the bottom of the barrel to find blogging material.

I admit it. Like today. All I really want to do is whine about my allergies. And the nasty, dirty car that I really need to clean out before it stages a revolt and drives away on its own. (not that I would blame it, AT ALL.)

..... and speaking of whining- can I just tell you about my cell phone?

Ugh. Ok, here's the deal. I have had this phone for about a year or so. In other words, IT'S NOT THAT OLD. But every 5-7 text messages or so, I have to take the back off. Take the battery out. Put the battery back in. Replace the back. Then turn the phone back on. And then I can go back to the text messaging area of the phone and go the outbox where my message has been lovingly (not!) saved and send my (freaking!) message.

Why must I do this? I'm going with, because my phone has a demon.

....I miss my Razor. My pretty, pretty Pink Razor. I mourn it. I do.

Oh, and also- sometimes, my phone will blast people with 3 or 4 texts from me at very odd times of the day.... like 3 or 4 in the blessed morning. Good times.

So, if I know you in the real world & you get multiple, oddly timed text messages from me.... no, I'm not loosing my mind (yet)... my phone has it out for me.

And yes,I probably was trying to ask you or tell you something at one time... feel free to inquire what it was! :-)

Words? Totally Not Needed.

When Everything Is Said

In the last month or so, I have had 2 dear ladies in different branches of my family pass away. Each of them lived long lives. They were the matriarchs of their respective branches & are so darn loved and will always be.

Death is an interesting device.

When both of these dear ladies passed, everyone did what just about all people do- they started going through the Rolodex of their minds, reliving every moment they could remember. Thinking back on their times with them, laughing, crying, talking about their personalities. What they believed in. Who they were, way down the marrow.

And that started me thinking. When it's all said and done & you're not here anymore and memories are all that people have left of you.... who will people say you were?

It's a question I've been asking myself a great deal this month. It's a question that's worth asking of ourselves a lot, I think. The memories and the legacy that we leave behind for others are really what it's all about, in the end. I think they are more tangible than money, or cars, or clothes or any of that stuff- because all of that junk can be taken away. But the moments... the life we live with the people around us... that can't be taken away. Not really.

Anyway- I've just been thinking about what will be said. What I hope will be said. And how to live a life worthy of it.

I Love...

1. that I remembered the Macy's gift card from my grandparents that was tucked away in my wallet... I bought a new signature ring with it.... I love it too.

2. the Wonderful Wizard of Oz when I'm feeling down.

3. when my brain kicks in before my mouth engages... Don't ask.

4. Freshly painted toe nails.

5. lilies.

6. the new purse my friend Faith got me for my birthday. It's bright and lovely and whimsical.... and I'm thrilled it's officially spring and I can start to use it without breaking into Emily Post hives.

7. pink. But you knew that.

8. when I have new books to read. Makes me all warm and fuzzy.

9. A certain little dude with blond hair and blue eyes & a crazy love of Thomas the Train and Mickey Mouse.

10. Gus McCrae.

11. beef stew on cold, chilly days

12. drive-in movie theaters

13. watching movies that are so bad that they are worth watching... just for the sheer pleasure of mocking within an inch of the movie reel. (I'm looking at you, Red Riding Hood.)

14. the jalapeno soup at Fish City Grill.... greatest soup, ever.

15. flower pens- those make me so darn happy. every time I go to write something and pick up one of my flower pens, I smile a little.

Hold the Special Sauce

So, there is this place.
I like to go there for my sushi fix.
It's almost like my very own Cheers- they know me. I know them. I know their food.

... or at least, I used to.

Until my trusted sushi chef moved from his place of my comfort to the kitchen and a new sushi chef took his place behind the counter.

Oh, dear.

It has not been the same.

I've has lively discussions about yellowtail and whitemeat fish (I was later vindicated, by the way... I KNEW he gave me the wrong piece of fish!). Presentation is slightly different and is taking some getting used to.

But there is one thing... the special sauce. Oh. No. Just, no. I don't care if it's suddenly "traditional." There has never been special sauce on my yellowtail sushi before & darn it, it displeases my sensitive pallet!

The first time I saw it, I just stared at it... horror struck. What was this reddish-pinkish goop on my perfectly lovely fish? I couldn't eat it. I wouldn't eat it. I made my dining companion eat it. And then report to me. (spoiler: it was a no)

The only special sauce I really want to deal with has the word soy in front of it, thankyouverymuch.

So, in conclusion- always remember. Hold the special sauce. And please, Dear Sushi Chef.... come back. Please. No, really. Please.

Part 1 (cause I have nothing else)

Random Fluff


1. Because of the movie JAWS, I cannot swim in the ocean. No way, no how.

2. I (possibly) have an un-natural obsession with sci-fi.

3. My favorite on-stage role in a musical (thus far) has been Nancy in Oliver. It was a dream come true to perform that role & I would love to again.

4. My favorite on-stage role in a straight show (thus far) has been the Stage Manager in Our Town.

5. My favorite play is Our Town.

6. I read Shakespeare when I was 10 for fun.

7. As a child, I was obsessed with the television show, Perry Mason.

8. When I was 8 or 9, I asked for & received a law book for Christmas. Read the whole thing.

9. Law Vegas is the happiest place on Earth for Taylor.

10. My paternal grandfather was born in Sicily and came to America when he was 9.

11. I am claustrophobic.

12. I have a trophies for dancing when I took dancing lessons.

13. I have singing awards from junior high & high school competitions.

14. I have a pink lap top & it's named 'the pretty, pretty pink precious.'

15. I can watch The Wizard of Oz again & again & again...... & again.

16. One of my favorite literary characters is Gus from Lonesome Dove.

17. I read Gone with the Wind, cover to cover, when I was 8.

18. When I was a child, grounding me meant taking away my library privileges.

19. MacGyver is my hero.

20. Bluebell ice cream is my favorite because I used to eat it with my D-Daddy (grandfather) when I was a little girl.

21. I would rather eat my grandmother's sugar cookie dough than eat the cooked cookies.

22. I don't like bananas... but I like banana flavored food. It's a texture thing.

23. I won't eat compacted ground meat, ie: burgers, meat loaf, meatballs. Nasty! Again, texture thing. But I will eat ground meat that's broken up.

24. I worked for a U.S. Congressman for almost 2 years. Very cool.

25. My favorite actor is Robert Duvall.

26. I have met all the lead actors in Star Trek the Next Generation & have their autographs.

27. Walter Keonig hit on me once...

28. Leonard Nimoy said that I was a very pretty & polite young lady.

29. My favorite cupcakes are the strawberry and the red velvet cupcakes from Sprinkles.

30. I must have coffee in order to form coherent thoughts and sentences.

Pause

If you know me, then you know that the only "pause" I'm a fan of is the pause button on the remote control when I have to run to the bathroom in the middle of a movie...

Let me back up for a moment- I love my church. I adore my pastor. I do. Really. But there are times when I could gladly hurl my Bible at him in the middle of the Sunday service. Seriously. There are certain sermon series that I hate with a fiery passion in my heart- mainly because I can hear the voice of God in my pastor's words.... and that bugs me. Especially when its not something I want to hear.

Our current sermon series is on "Pause"- when it seems like your life is on pause.
Heh, insert joke here.
Mine qualifies.
I have control over some of it- but there is quite a lot that... I don't. A question was posed at church this past Sunday, "What are you totally relying on God for? In other words, if God doesn't 'come through' it won't happen?" .... If I really knew you, dear readers, I could give you a list. I'm thinking of a couple in particular.

But I have seen (in particular... very recently... very clearly) how powerful prayer is. I have seen what happens when God moves in the lives of His children. It's electrifying. It's thrilling. It's wonderful. It's scary. It's joyful.

Have you ever felt as if you were walking through something... as if you were dealing with a lot of 'stuff' that clearly wasn't the point? As if you were being prepared for something? Lot's of puzzle pieces being picked up, gentle readers... I'm not really sure what the end picture is supposed to look like but- I have great hopes for it.

If You were Wondering

It should be of note to all that I cannot play pool.

Let me explain. I went to play pool with some friends not all that long ago. Which is a rather charitable description of how I play.
I have a very, very specific m.o. when it comes to playing pool (or any other game I know I don't stand a snow balls chance of winning).... "if you can't beat.... screw with 'em till you break them."

And darned if it doesn't work quite a few times. Heh.

Though, honestly, I do always feel rather sorry for the poor person who gets saddled with me as a pool partner. They should get a handicap. (Oh, wait... they did. Me.)

Kinda Like the Black Death

Only we didn't die.

Jacob was struck down from Wednesday night to Monday. Yikes. Fever, deranged coughing fits... snotty nose. Yucky. The poor child is still coughing, though thankfully, not as badly. There for a day or so, I thought I was going to see one of his internal organs on my rug.

And just in time for him to get on the upswing of that mess, the pollen count here in North Texas has started to rocket sky high. Not cool. He seems to be okay for now, but I can only breath out of one side of my nose at any given moment in time.

(btw, it is totally possible that we have killed an entire rain forest in Kleenix within the last week)

I'm hoping the boy will feel like going to school tomorrow & be up to spending the night with his dad tomorrow night. He's missed out on both the last week. He is getting back to his old self- last night, I caught him rummaging in his closet... something he is NOT supposed to be doing, by the way.

I looked at him and said, "What are you doing?"

The child looked at his mother and said, "Who, me?"
....... and batted his sweet little blue eyes.

We're Skipping School Today

but we have a doctors note. And its' not really school- school. It's playschool. But... still.
Jacob has 'special germs' right now. He came home from his dad's house on Wednesday night with a runny nose and a fever.

Awesome.

It only got worse. He went to bed at 9pm, got in a good nap until 11pm and was awake, fever'ish (102.6!) for THE ENTIRE REST OF THE NIGHT. yea. The poor boy felt like poo- or as he says, "boop." His fever finally broke about 4:30(ish)am... and he finally drifted off for another nap about 5am. He popped up at 7:30am. Ugh.


I would like to say that, the good news was, even with all that fever, he never hurled. Though we had one moment of drama. Around 3am, he was laying in my bed... I was drifting in and out. The lights were off.
All of a sudden, he sat straight up in bed, looked at me and said, "Uh-oh, Mommy!"
Crap.
I sat straight up in bed, knowing... just knowing that my child was about to blow his cookies all over my bed.
But then, after a moment, he looked at me and then laid back down again.
......... I think he was just screwing with me.
It worked.

Needless to say, we went to the doctor.
Severe Upper Respiratory Infection.
Bugger.

And so, we're on house arrest for a couple of days. Lots of fluids. Lots of rest. Lots of Mickey Mouse (the only rodent allowed in my house, by the way). Lots of coffee for the Mommy. Lot's of Tylenol and Motrin. A forest worth of Kleenix. Changing one pair of pajamas for another (the boy, not the mommy. The mommy is getting dressed every day.... otherwise she would feel icky. The boy is happy in his jammies.)

... and so I leave you with a picture from better times. Jacob in better health & the Steelers hasn't blown the SuperBowl yet. Peace out!

Valentines with P-Dub

How I spent my Valentines Day.... an essay in pictures. Kinda. I was going to takes pictures of the lines.... of the peoples, etc. But my feet hurts. And my legs hurt. And I was hungry. And sleepy.

So this is all you get. P.S.- my camera staged a revolt. Yes, the picture quality sucks. I'm aware. Just wait until you scroll to the bottom- the picture of me? Yeah, that really sucks.

Ree Drummond- The Pioneer Woman
She autographed my cookbook. Yes, my cookbook. Why? Cause I'm a super, space cadet like that.

.... and then I had asked her to autograph the other book she wrote. The story of how she met her husband. It's way too cute for words.

Oh look, the covers!

Hey. It was 11pm. That's all I'm sayin'.

I went home and died not long after this picture was taken.

Once More, Unto the Breach

or something like that.

School is back in full force. Please, see my excitement........

(crickets. crickets.)

The tests. Oh, the sheer number of exams that await me.

There is much to do & even less time to do it in. I foresee not a whole lot of sleep in my future & an even greater amount of caffeine. Heh, everyone thought I was an addict before.

The "D"word is almost final. Almost. Maybe. In some far off world. Place or time. ::sigh:: I was promised that a certain signature would happen this week (ahem, its Thursday). And that everything would be final so that, you know, child support would kick in March 1st, J's health insurance would have an official 'must be done' date, my car could be transfered to my name.... You know, small stuff like that. Odds and ends, really.

::slow burn, people. slow burn::

(and no, I'm not bad-mouthing my soon-to-be-ex-husband. I'm merely expressing my feelings.)

Anyway. Lot's of "stuff" going on. And that's about the only word for it. Anyone ever had a season like that? Just a lot of "stuff." And it all requires your attention, though some of it you would gladly chuck out the window. Some good. Some bad. Some, you just stare at going, "What... the hell?"

And then there's the added fun of the single mom "stuff." Some good and some bad. That puts a whole new spin on everything you do, say and think.... I think. I've got hours of material on that one. But, suffice it to say, no matter how much help you get (and I've had a solid support system with deep roots)... in the end, it's all on you. You're the mom.

And that's a heavy burden.

Yes, it does change (a lot) when you divorce. The other parent isn't there, in the home. So guess what? If you're anything (at all) like me- you start qestioning every. single. freaking. decision. and then totally up the years of therapy that you become convinced your child is going to require at some point.

::sigh::

Slightly off track, I did get. Anyway. Moving on.
Like I was saying. Sorting through the "stuff."
What fun.

Leaning on prayer.
Learning from Sarai (or, Sarah... if you would prefer). My dear, friend. Yes, she is.
Living in the moment.
Learning to listen.
Learning to speak.

Death by Turn Over

... and extreme football stress.

Yes, my Steelers lost.
.......... spoiler if you didn't watch the game. And yes, I paced the ENTIRE width and length around my house. A few times. Muttering, many times, "I can't watch this. This stresses me out."

Only to park my tush on the sofa upon completing a circuit around the living room. I couldn't help it. I'm totally glutton for punishment. As are, apparently, my people from Pittsburgh. Oh, the humanity of it all. The crying. The weeping. The gnashing of teeth.

Then the circuit around the house would start again. It's a great way to get your cardio in, I've found. Pace your way through a football game.

There was one brief, shining moment.... and then Steeler Nation was plummeted back to the pit of hell. Ugh. (and again with the pacing.....)

Turn overs... how I loathe thee.

Jacob even gave up on the game. 5 minutes before the end. He walked to his bedroom door, opened it & demanded to be put to bed... I can't say that it was a bad decision in the long run.

Ah, well. Until next year Steeler Country, until next year..... that is, if there is a next year.
Hopefully the players and the coaches will decide to be nice and play together nicely.
Anyone besides me have the overwhelming urge to give these massively well-paid PLAYERS & OWNERS a time-out.... and maybe a doseof reality?

I Affirm This in EVERY Way......

Yeah, it's cold.

It's cold.

no. I mean, it's frakking cold.

Holy buckets, it's cold outside. Winter is having one last party in north Texas and it's inhabitants are freezing their collective keesters off. I'm hold up with my warm blankets, fuzzy warm socks, my cat, my heating pad... and a lot of laundry that the dratted laundry fairy keeps bypassing.

I'm going to have to do something about that before the mountain of laundry buries me alive.
Death by dirty (but cute) socks.
Not a good way to go.

Stay warm!

A Quiet

The little Lad has jetted down to south Texas on a beach vay-cay with his dad for a week.

My heart.
a dear friend asked me this weekend how I was feeling. i believe my response what something along these lines, "You know the suction attachment of the Hoover vacuum? Yeah, it can suck your soul right out of your body."
gotta love a multi-tasker

So, um, yeah.

What will the most devoted mommy of one be up to, you ask? Well, it's so very climactic. Please, contain your jealousy. I'm going to get the oil changed in my car. And, since I'm feeling particularly wild this week, I think I'll get the inside detailed out. Mount Laundry seems to have piled up on me again. Bah. And then there's the small matter of J's Christmas tree and manger set that are still out (yeah, blew right on past Epiphany..... "Here's one for you Taylor, stop procrastinating on putting Christmas stuff away! until February shows its face).

Are you jealous yet?
.... and then my dear, sweet, wonderful band of merry men & women ("I am NOT a merry man!") who are responding to my S.O.S. to keep me occupied and my spirits up during my Jacob-less week.

(Total props and bragging rights if you can place the above mentioned quote.)

And now I must go- apparently February is going to show her skanky self by blasting up with frakking freezing weather and snow. I gotta count my blanket, my soft fuzzy sweaters, and socks..... and glare at Target. a wonderful retailer that is already selling swimsuits. in January/February. Have they no shame? Santa's corpse isn't even cold yet!

But if he sticks around here, it will be freezing.

(** a note, this is the longest my little dude has ever been away from me. forgive me, my whining. :-) it's been a long time since I've been in anything BUT full-time 'mom-mode'**)

Cause I'm Awesome Like That

So, I woke up at 2:30 Saturday morning thinking that I was going to blow my cookies.

(spoiler: I didn't.)

But I laid there drifting out of a very uncomfortable sleep until it was time to wake my child to send him off with his father at 8:30am... thinking that I was going to blow my cookies. And the dizziness. Oh, the dizziness.

As soon as Jacob was safely trotting down the walkway with his dad (after making me chase him around the house, not wanting to get dressed or mind, at all before his dad arrived) I stumbled back to bed until it was time for him to come back home.

Jacob ate lunch & then took a nap & then I laid down too. Cause, did I mention the dizziness?

Mamaw here, thought that someone had yanked the world off its' axis and spun it fast without my permission & I was getting ready to get my broomstick after the no-good ya-whoos.

It got better as the day went along & then Sunday dawned....

Hi dizziness, you're back. Rinse and repeat.

Monday Morning. Rinse and repeat. Again. (But, with the added bonus of an early riser who wanted in my bed... not to sleep, but to bounce up and down. For about 30 minutes. 'Kid, this boat ain't big enough for the both of us.')

Possibly time to go to the doctor, huh?

My doctor looks in my ears and asks me this question... "Does your ear hurt... at all?"

"Um, no. Why?"

"Because you're right ear is so inflamed it looks like it's about to explode out of your ear."

Awesome.

So that explains the vertigo and strange compulsion to heave my stomach contents. And my abysmally low blood pressure. Yeah, for dizziness. Stupid inner ear.

More good news- its not actually an infection. It's just really inflamed. Excellent. Drink plenty of fluids and treat the symptoms until it goes away. How long, you ask? 3-4 weeks. Rock on.

Yes, I'm a medical over-achiever. Who, by the way, is totally a sucker for the power of suggestion. Yeah, my right ear. It's bothering my now.

But, in actual good news- THE STEELERS ARE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL!
I'll try and devote another post to my happiness over that.
For now, Mamaw needs to get her blanket and pillow and go lay down. Lie down? Ugh, I never can remember which it is. Grammar, why must you taunt me so?

Sat. Steelers' Game

A little late... I know. What can I say? It's been a long week. I'm happy to say that I believe that Jacob is on the upswing of the crummy-crud. Yea!

So, in honor of that.... I give you a 3 part picture show, portraying the emotions that went into watching the Steelers game on Saturday. (Spoiler: we won. thank God.)

Happy, Enthused. Filled with Hope.... Just after kick-off.

Half-Time.... remember the emotions from kick-off? Yeah. Not so much.

The end of the game. Tired. Depleted. But, happy & content.

But then I remembered that I get to do it all again this coming weekend.... clearly I have no sense of self-preservation.....

...... or possibly just a very healthy sense of competition.

If I'm Still Awake In 3 Hours, You'll Know Why

Of course, by the time any of you read this you'll be thinking, "of course she's awake. why wouldn't she be?" As I type these words, it's 12:27... oops, make that 12:28am in the blessed a.m. & I fully expect to be summarily & often roused from my beauty sleep a time or 2 (or 10) tonight.

Why?

The Lad.

He's a bit on the sickly side.

Eee-gads. Every time the weather changes, it happens. Last year, I was graced with the ear infection that. wouldn't. die. (seriously. 4 weeks. morphed twice.) We've managed to hop, skip and jump our way through sickly-sick season thus far, but I fear that we're about to get a beating with a brick stick.

...and that hurts.

Jacob is a cuddly, affectionate little boy- just by his nature.

When he's sick. He's SUPER-mondo clingy boy. And Mr. Cranky McCrankerston... who falls apart at the. slightest. thing. for. no. blessed. reason. Yeah, lived with it the last day or so.

And the coughs. Oh, the poor boy. Coughed through his nap yesterday & today. And I can hear the congestion. ::frowny face::

But the best part about sicky-Jacob is the early mornings.... that's usually when his sweet little body decides to go AWOL on me. (ie: early morning puke-fests 2010) Once, he actually coughed so much he threw up. Awesome. ::whimper::

I've kept it at bay thus far....
Oh, please. Please, for the love. Go away coughs and congestion. Find some other smuck to pester.

So, in conclusion. If you see me around tomorrow & I seem... oh, what's the word? Slightly desperate for my caffeine hit??? Now you'll know why. And if you really love me, you'll have that Starbucks I.V. drip line waiting for me.

I Have This Friend

But I've never met her face to face.

How is it that we're friends, you ask? The magical world of the internet. Oh, magical internet. And the magical blogs that bind us.

My sweet bloggy friend, Joanne. The Simple Wife.

She's lovely. And kind. And honest (about her flaws and her high points). And encouraging. The very antithesis of "simple."

And totally part of my little community of "invisible friends"... and I'm part of hers.

She's 38.

She has 2 pre-teen daughters.

She's been married 19 years.

On Tuesday, my friend suffered a stroke.

It was bad.
And I am gutted for her. For her family. My heart grieves. It doesn't matter that I have never seen her face to face. In the years since the invisible, internet howdies were swapped, a friendship was forged & I am heartsick. My young, vibrant friend- with so much life in front of her- is in a hospital bed and she may not wake up. We don't know. We hope. We pray.

It's ana amazing thing, the internet. I've come to know & befriend a vast array of characters. A rather amusing little band of characters. It really is a band of 'invisible friendships'. You can't see them, but they are there. And, perhaps like, 'visible' friendships, you may not see the preciousness in some of them until they are removed.

Just something to think about in your visible and invisible friendships.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Since I'm very tired & Matilda is still beating me like a rented circus monkey, here's a happy little video that will make us all smile. :-)

disclaimer: the car was pulled over & parked when the video was taken.

disclaimer #2:..... I have no idea where the child gets his yen for the dramatic.

Poor Matilda

My back. She hurts.
And as she has been making a crying, gnashing, weeping pest of herself the last week or so, I thought it was only right to give her a name. Welcome her. Bake her cookies. Yes, I tried bribery. Hey, I'd do almost anything for a homemade oatmeal/chocolate chip cookie... it was worth a try with Matilda.

No dice.

Matilda still pains me. She's had a date night every single night this week with Fernando, my heating pad. They get along great... except when Fernando gets a little too hot for her. It happens. He's a hottie, after all. But I'm a very good chaperon & I get them to turn the heat down before anyone gets burned.

Tomorrow I must cajole Matilda into helping me with laundry (blasted laundry fairies skipped over my house this week), finish sorting through 'throw away' & 'give away' piles, etc, etc, etc.

In conclusion, while it may seem strange to some to have named my aching back & my heating pad... and to set them up on dates. It may sound odd to some to bribe or cajole a body part into well-being or something that resembles a pain-free existence.

But...

After a week...
Have I mentioned that my back... it pains me? sigh....

30

Well.

Huh.

So.

I had a birthday here not all that long ago. I am, officially, in my 30's. I haven't decided what I think of this turn of events. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to be 30. I mean that. If nothing else, it means that I have managed to not do anything so stupid as to get myself killed. (and with the headlines I read on the news, that's a little bigger of a deal than it was a few years ago...)

No... at present I have been waxing poetic in my mind over turning 30. I suppose its this time of year. It's what happens when one turns a decade age. It's what happens when skinny jeans turn my boot cut jeans into 'mom jeans'....

Its the circle of life, Simba.

I turn 30 as a single mom.
I turn 30 as a woman finishing her UNDER-grad.
I turn 30 as a woman living with her kiddo... and her parents.

le sigh

It happens.

Yes. It. Happens.

But.

I turn 30 as a woman who is finishing her undergrad & is making plans to get her Masters.

I turn 30 with a plan to buy my own home... hey, its a plan. I'm thrilled with a plan.

I turn 30 & I have a son that I adore. And I get to raise him around his grandparents & great-grandmother for a couple of years. And they adore him.

I turn 30 with a church that loves on me & my kiddo.

I turn 30 with friends who make me laugh even on days when I don't want to laugh. On days when I would rather marinate in my anger or self-pity.

I turn 30 with a family who NEVER ceases to amaze me with their ability to love me. And, after 30 years... that's kinda, sorta something.

I turn 30 as the mother of a little boy who... makes my every day.

I turn 30 as the Daughter of a King.


Turning 30 is looking better with every stroke of the key.