Don't Mess With Texas

I grew up in Missouri. I think for all intents and purposes, Missouri is a fairly benign state. Oh, I know politically, and sometimes religiously one could find place to dispute that---but just work with me.

I didn't grow up being instilled with Missouri pride. In fact, I'm not sure there is such a thing. At least not among those of us born after 1935. Or who still have most of our teeth. I could be wrong though. Oh yeah, and I could be totally offending people too. **

Growing up, my mom worked tirelessly to keep us from talking like some of the natives in our area. "Ain't, cain't, I seen" etc. I think she did a good job.

So, when I went off to college and was exposed to people from different states, and even different countries, I was quite surprised to see the pride people had in their homeland. I heard songs like, "I'd rather be from Idaho than any other place I know, Idee-idee-idee-idee-Idaho!"

Yeah, I doubt Missourians have such a song. Or if they did, would sing it to anyone who would listen.

And then there's the Canadians. Wow, that's some serious pride in their country. It was all so new to me.

And then the Texans. Sometimes it was annoying. Everything's big in Texas. Everything's better in Texas. People acted as though it was the only state worth living in and if they weren't living there at the time, they had every intention of getting back there as soon as possible.

Totally foreign concept to me.

And then we moved to Texas. And lived there for 19 months. And then had to leave.

And I get it. I wish I had been born in Texas so I could say I was Texan. I wish we could live there forever. I totally understand those Texans mourning having to leave, or refusing to ever leave. I totally get it.

My sister got Bo a "Don't mess with Texas" t-shirt over a year ago. I was still fairly new to Texas so I thought it was just a funny thing to own. Now we live by it. He's pretty much outgrown the shirt, but every Saturday night we stretch it out as a family so he can wear it to high school if he wants. And if he doesn't grow much more.

So, here I sit, in lil' ol' Iowa. I can't say anything bad about the place. It's just not Texas. That shouldn't be such a crime, but it almost is. I miss you Texas. You may have hardly noticed I was there, what with the hibernating for days at a time with nary a shower or change of clothes---but I was there. And I loved you.

I couldn't help but try to make Iowa my own little piece of Texas, in the midwest.
Pardon the shameless use of my children for my own amusement.
Be assured you will see more of this shirt. And you can be certain everytime you see it that I am laughing quite heartily and undoubtedly thinking I am the funniest girl evoh.

True Story

Recently we were at some friend's house and Bo decided to use the bathroom. In the furthest corner of their home, upstairs. He spent about 20 minutes yelling, "I'm dooooooooooone" over and over. I just happened to go looking for a scale to weigh my svelte self and stumbled upon my half-nekkid, toilet-seat imprinted, in need of a good wipe, yelling boy. I kind of felt bad. I mean, how long would he have waited to be rescued by a few squares and an adult hand? I don't know.

So I sat down and had a very important heart to heart with my son. One I'm sure every mother has had...

"You need to tell me before you are about to go to the bathroom so I can know you will need help in a few minutes. I'm not always where I can hear you say you are done, but if I know you are about to go, I can listen for it."

He agreed.

And follows the suggestion unfailingly. Like, when I'm in the shower. Or asleep. Or RIGHT THERE. He tells me. I appreciate his obedience.

However, today, it would appear to be too difficult of a task for him. So he came up to me, as I was sitting right outside the bathroom hanging a hook and says to me,

"I'm going to the bathroom now mom. But I don't really feel like calling you and telling you when I'm done. So, just listen for the last one to drop and then come wipe."

I'm not kidding.

I was instructed to wait for the last one to drop.

I need to get a better paying job for this kind of work environment.

The Girl Who Lived

Courtesy of The-Fireplace-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

Size Does Matter

So, there are 5 gazillion kids in this neighborhood. And they all have a magnetic draw to my doorbell. J's already disengaged it. That was yesterday after the 39th ring in an hour. Granted, half of the rings are Bo asking a question.

There are a LOT of children between about 2 and 6. There's a darling little redhaired girl, about 6 years old who wants Avee to come out and play and Avee isn't easily swayed. It's sort of funny to watch my 2 year old size up a 6 year old and hem and haw about whether or not she wants to play with her.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, noooo. Saw-ee, not today, I watch Caillou!" She says that, even when Caillou isn't on. Two year old version of, "Tell her I'm in the shower!"

So, there's a darling boy across the street who is only about 4 months younger than Bo; but he's quite a bit smaller. With these teeny little eyeglasses. Yesterday he knocked on my door and asked to play with Bo. When I told him he couldn't, he politely said, "Oh, okay. Well then, could I draw on your house?" and held up a Bic pen. I laughed right out loud and scared the little dear away. Bet you've never been asked that.

However, next door, there's a big boy, about 6 or so. At least he's the size of a 6 year old. But he can't talk. He says the words, but I can't understand a blessed thing he says. I have to be very careful because if I pretend to understand him and offer a polite, but unknowing, "Uh-uh, sure!" he'll walk off with our DVD player. Because I said he could.

Bo prefers to play with him. He can't understand him either. But he's big. And that's all that matters. Today Bo told little "K", "I don't want to play with you, I want to wait for someone bigger to come home." I gave him a stern talking to for that.

We do not judge people by their size.
We judge them by their annual income.

Sunday Morning

I was busily working in the kitchen, alphabetizing my spices and finding the last big box of kitchen stuff a home. No small feat in this ridiculously small kitchen.

J was playing with the kids in the living room and said, "Well, we better start getting ready for church now."

I sighed loudly. I can't be bothered with the salvation of my soul when I'm only to cumin in my spice endeavor.

A few minutes later he says something he's never said before and I'm certain will never say again.

"Do you wanna just skip this week?"

I looked around at the clutter and boxes and unusable kitchen but I played it cool and casually responded, "Oh, whatever you want sweetie..."

Then, about 15 minutes later J, playing horsey with the kids, decided the horse needed a drink. Bo walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. We were standing nearby, barely paying attention, but we heard the refrigerator door close and Bo casually mutter, "dammit" as he walks back into the living room for some more popcorn.

We weren't sure we heard him right. He seemed so nonplussed for having just flung out a swear word. I mean, everyone knows, around here, you have to have a REALLY good reason to say that word. Like, forgetting your purse in the house after getting the kids loaded in the car...

"Um Bo, why did you just say that?"
"Say what?"

"Uhh, dammit."

"Oh yeah. My cream soda was all gone."





I think we need to go to church today.

Meme time cuz the baby is sleeping

I got tagged for this meme by Luisa at Novembrance and it's been a while.
The other two, I stole, just flat out stole from Code Yellow Hot Mama

4 things that should go into Room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth:
Boohbah
jealousy
cigarettes
fluorescent green

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently:
when people say "alls" as though it's ACTUALLY A WORD
Smack their gum
make excuses or blame others

2 things you find yourself moaning about:
being overweight
taking care of a newborn

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself:
Nothing too telling. I'm a snob and don't care for the newborn stage. :)

**********************************************************

My roommate(s) and I... once left for Thanksgiving break and when we came back, a new roommate had moved in and put up "decorations" all over the house. They were pictures torn from calendars (you know, like what you decorated with when you were 10 years old) like, whales, foxes, horses, etc. AND printed out stories from her emails. Like, the one about one-legged Timmy the soccer star. That particular story was pasted right in front of the toilet for our reading pleasure when we had to take care of business. I finally convinced her to take some of them down when I told her I met a soccer player named Timmy and I wet my pants. Looking back, it seems like nothing, but we were all pretty shocked and dismayed that our hovel had lost even more value in such a short time.

Never in my life... have I wanted to get drunk.

High school was... forgettable, for the most part. I wish I had tried harder or understood the benefits in trying harder. ie, scholarships.

When I'm nervous... you probably can't tell. I rarely get nervous. However, I did notice while on my mission that I would start making fart noises with my hands when I got bored. When I'm nervous I get the usual butterflies and hot, but I think I hide it well.

My hair... is atrocious right now. I used to have great hair I could get to do whatever I want (except be fine). I usually had to do very little to maintain it. Each child has subsequently destroyed that. Now it's nappy and wings out in random places and I got a helacious hair cut and I really don't want to talk about it anymore.

When I was five I...probably had a mullet, speaking of hair. I was homeschooled. I had a fat lip. I was probably a busy body. I loved little kids. I threw a pair of wet underwear at my 12 year old brother who made fun of me for wetting my pants. Nailed him too.

When I turn my head left...my "sweepy" bangs obstruct my view of Avee two inches from my face. I kid you not. Apparently she "needs" something.

I should be...finishing making dinner

By this time next year...I'll be older, wiser, slimmer, and not pregnant or nursing.

My favorite aunt is...huh. Don't really have one.

I have a hard time understanding...rude people. When we were visiting our friends in DC, we went into a metro station that was INSANELY crowded. One person in our group went to get a ticket, and the bulk of us waited to the side for him to return. While we were waiting, we found ourselves waiting next to another woman. After about 10 minutes of waiting and just seeing hundreds of people pass by, we were all commenting on how crazy busy it was. My husband turned to the woman standing near us and said, "have you been waiting long?" She was obviously doing the same thing we were. She stared at him and then said hostily, "Why do you need to know!?" Like he'd just asked her social security number. He was pretty shocked, as were the rest of us. He kind of recovered and said something about our friend getting us a ticket and wondering how long it would take. She said something even more rude and kind of stunned us all. My husband said, "Sorry to bother you," he was definitely being sarcastic, but the funny thing is, she said, "no problem." That actually made me laugh, but the whole experience made me just feel gross. It's rare that I've met a person that rude for no reason, but when I have, I just don't get it.

You know I like you if...I talk a lot. If I tell you. I email you. You send me things. :)

My ideal breakfast is...eggs benedict and perfect hashbrowns. Oh wait, that's usually what I order if we go out. I would love fresh fruit, all kinds, perfectly fresh, already prepared.

If you visit my home town...keep on a-driving. Just kidding. I don't care for it much, but that offends the people who still live there. There's lots of history there (here--I happen to be in my hometown right now...) and it's worth checking out. Once.

If you spend the night at my house...don't expect me to wait on you. I'm a much better guest than I am a host. If being a good guest means eating all your food and leaving messes everywhere. I'm excellent.

My favorite blonde is...Erica

My favorite brunette is...Sara

I shouldn't have been...wasting time on regrets

Last night I...nursed, laid down, and read Harry Potter all at the same time. Thank you very much.

A better name for me would be...Your Highness. My name is perfect for me, actually.

I've been told I look like...Molly Ringwald. My entire teen years. Darryl Hannah in my early twenties and more recently, Scully from X-files. Oh yeah, and a lady at Walmerts said I looked just like the baby. Really. She didn't say he looks like me, she said, "You look JUST LIKE heem."

If I could have any car, it would be...fuel efficient and seat many. Doesn't exist. But a girl can dream.

You should do this meme if you...have ever had stitches.

This is a one word meme
1. Where is your cell phone? couch
2. Your husband? far
3. Your hair? hell
4. Your mother? perfect
5. Your father? tall
7. Your dream last night? scary
8. Your favorite drink? alcoholic
9. Your dream car? paidoff
10. The room you're in? noisy
11. Your ex? marriedhim
12. Your fears? loss
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Graduate
14. Who did you hang out with last night? nieces
15. What you're not? insincere
16. Muffins? fattening
17. One of your wish list items? TV
18. Where you grew up? Missouri
19. The last thing you did? combedAve'shair
20. What are you wearing? nothing
21. Your TV? off
22. Your pet? never
23. Your computer? temperamental
24. Your life? good
25. Your mood? mellow
26. Missing? J
27. What are you thinking about right now? water
28. Your car? Suhhhweet
29. Your work? neverending
30. Your summer? fast
31. Your relationship status? married
32. Tomorrow? stillmarried
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? July27th
35. School? for lewsurs

From the Midwest

I'm still living out of a suitcase.
I'm still completely overwhelmed and if we never move again, it will be too soon.
I still wonder HOW I accumulated so much stuff. And children.

I'm at my sister's house right now and apparently, the rule at her house, is, if I stay here, I have to blog. Only, what she doesn't know is, all the profound, insightful, unbearably funny things I blog about---I talk about in real life. So she's gonna get a bunch of repeats. Neener neener. That's what you get for giving me rules. I am a free spirit. Who answers to a 2 month old. And two year old. Oh yeah, and a 4 year old. Free, free, free!

I will leave you with a Bo quote, just to hold you over until I can sit down and write the two posts that are twirling around in my head. They are ever-so fascinating. They are as anxiously awaiting their typage, as you are their readage.

While driving down to my sister's last night, Bo fell asleep. He woke up suddenly and was distraught, crying, and saying "ow" over and over. I was immediately concerned and thought he might have been woken up by pain. I started asking with some urgency, from the driver's seat, "Bo, what's wrong, what hurts, tell me what is the matter, tell me what is hurting you."

He moaned and whined a little more.

I inquired more aggressively with the kind of compassionate, empathetic concern a mother has for her child and he finally answered.

"Your driving is what is hurting me."