Original Haiku on Picture I Didn't Take

I worked really hard on this.  I googled the image and everything.  It's a poor substitute for the yarn I planned to spin, but since my audience is limited to a grand total of two people, and you've both heard the story, I didn't see any need to post it yet.

Fun with Picnik

My sister, who's blog is filled with wonderful stories and great photography (which can be found at http://agritslife.blogspot.com/), introduced me to Picnik.com and I admit it's loads of fun.  Peppy and I created the masterpiece above just by goofing around.  It helps someone like me who's not very talented take some dinky shots and make them look less shabby.  It also gives me a chance to be random when it won't get me into trouble.  Like this little picture of our poodle's seldom seen eye.

Usually his Fro is covering his peeper.  I also decided to doodle a crown on our mutt.  As you can see, I've found a nice tool for expressing my "unique" style. 

I think tomorrow, since I've almost completely recovered from my stomach virus, that Peppy shared like it was an mp3, I'll tell you the legend of Mommy Bear.  It's a story of mystery, intrigue, suspense, and will make you sob with it's sappy sweetness.

Actually, it just might make you a little misty-eyed, but I'm trying to create some excitement.  We all need a little excitement.

Face of Death

I took this photo one night of the cat using my cell phone. When I saw it, I thought to myself that it looks like something that could be the inspiration for the next big thing in horror movies. It's scary and unearthly. It's what I might see before I take my last breath. I don't know why I felt like blogging about this, but it just seemed like just the type of randomness that people have come to expect from me.

Also, I just like to humiliate the cat.

A tale of two hands

Normally that deathly pale hand in the picture is busy on the weekends, along with it's equally dealthy pale partner. Those pasty hands cook meals, do laundry, pour sodas, start baths, and in general take care of the kid that belongs to the beautiful golden brown hand. However, this weekend those roles have been somewhat reversed and that sweet brown hand and it's partner have been the busy ones. Those brown hands have started their own shower, cooked their own meals, let out the dogs, let them back in, fed the cat, and fetched warmer pj's for a very sick mommy. The size of those hands indicate that they belong to a growing boy. What isn't obvious in that picture is that those hands are strong, caring, delicate when needed, animated, and independent of the pale one attached to it. I remember when that brown hand was so small it could only grip one of my fingers and today that hand nearly covers mine. I pray that hand will find the hand of that one true love that fits just right. I hope that one day that hand will grasp the tiny hand of baby and know the love a father has for it's child. I hope that hand works hard and is rewarded. I hope it give many pats on the back and friendly waves. I hope it gives a reassuring squeeze to someone in doubt and a lift up to someone in need. For today, I'm thankful that hand has been so helpful and that it belongs to my sweet boy.

I don't know what they are, but I'll take 5 of them.

Just as I was leaving the office today, I realized that I had missed multiple calls from my son. I checked the voice mail and received an urgent request that I stop by a local store, Smith's Variety, and pick up "animal bracelets." I needed a pack for Peppy and a pack for Ginny and Annieboo too. I called him back to confirm exactly what I was getting. I was told, "They'll know. Just tell them you need animal bracelets." So I waltzed into Smith's Variety where an exhausted looking clerk was resting against the main counter. I asked for animal bracelets and was told they were all sold out. A little girl next to the counter looked up as if she'd just been told that The Jonas Brothers would never sing another note. I think I could almost hear her heart break. I was offered a chance to put my name on the waiting list for when the next shipment arrived. I signed my name, listed my phone number and then told her I would take 5 of them. "Five bracelets, five packs, five...?" the cashier asked. "I dunno. I don't even know what I'm buying, but I know there are three children that want them desperately and if there's a waiting list, I'll ask for two extra. For all I know these bracelets are made of live snakes and leak lead into the skin, but I do know I need them." The cashier shook her head like I was crazy and I thought to myself, "One day you'll have kids and you'll know the drive to provide things of which you have no understanding, just because a child is counting on you to get them." It doesn't matter if it's Luke Skywalker action figures for your two sons, a giggling Elmo doll, or the newest gaming system. At some point the reward of being a hero in a child's eyes will overwhelm common sense and good thinking and you too will ask for five of who-knows-what.

A Fairy Told Me

I have what some would call a "vivid imagination." This has come in handy on multiple occasions when parenting Peppy. As a child, I could create fanciful daydreams that would keep me occupied for hours. As an adult, that same imagination gave me the ability to answer questions far too deep for my child's understanding at the time he asked the questions, ease his fears, distract him from the misery of illnesses or pain, and escort him on his journey to the Land of Nod on more nights than I care to remember. Although Peppy and I are very much alike, we differ in our need to understand. Sometimes I can content myself that there are some things that cannot be explained or understood. My son, so much like his step-father it's almost eerie, needs to see and comprehend the reason behind everything. So there were many times that I would spin a yarn, only to have my serious-minded only child fix me with his soft brown eyes and say, "Mom, is that true?" The first time I encountered this question I debated telling him, "No, Mommy makes things up because you're too young to know how babies are made, too scared to spend the night away from home, not mature enough to understand the workings of a virus, and too darn stubborn to fall asleep without a different story every night" or coming up with something cryptic that would allow his own developing mind to determine truth from fantasy. I went with the road less travelled and said, "I don't know if it's true or not...a fairy told me." One dark eyebrow quirked up and he waited patiently while I told him the following story:

When I was a little girl I would play alone behind the azalea bushes next to our house. One day I saw a tabby cat twitching it's tail back and forth and stalking something in the bushes. I watched as wiggled it's haunches and then pounced on it's prey. Then I heard a little voice calling for help. I peeped under the bushes next to the cat's body and saw in it's paws a tiny little woman with wings so shimmery they reminded me of a bubble. She was not much bigger than one of my dolls and I thought for a moment she was a doll, but I knew she was alive and very afraid. Although I could tell she was beautiful, her face was terrified as she turned it to me not knowing which was a bigger danger...me or the cat. She promised me that if I would free her from the cat, she would grant me a wish. I told her I would help her, even if she disappeared as soon as she was free. Not knowing the best way to get the cat to leave her alone, I decided the best thing to do was frighten the cat into letting her go. So I barked. I barked like the most ferocious dog in the world and the cat took off like her tail was on fire. The little woman then said, "I'm a fairy and you just saved my life. I was here in this bush gathering petals to make a pillow for my bed when the cat attacked. I will keep my promise and you will have your one wish. What do you want most in the world little human girl?" The first thing that popped into my head was that I wanted a friend. I wanted a friend to talk to and play with. One that could stay up late and whisper to me in the dark when I couldn't sleep, or join me in my pretend games and not think I was silly. So I told the fairy, "I want you to be my friend." She laughed and said, "No wish for more wishes? No wish to be rich? No candy? No toys?" I told her that wishes were nothing without some one to share, money didn't stop the scary things in the night and I was certain candy and toys were better when shared with a friend. Then she promised that although she might not always appear to me in her fairy form and we couldn't play every day, she would love me and be my friend forever. For many years my fairy would appear and tell me wonderful stories about her magical home. She would answer questions that the adults around me were too busy to answer and she would keep me company when I was frightened, sad, or hurt. She was my most treasured friend and I love her still to this day.

Then I told Peppy that the stories I told him, and the explanations I gave, were hand me downs from my wonderful fairy friend. I told him that while I didn't know if things I was told were true, I knew they came straight from my fairy. My fairy named Vivid Maggie Nassion.

Long time no see

I had barely started this blog when life brought this fledgeling creation to a screaming halt. I'd really intended to keep a nice running record of my random existence, but a new job, a breast cancer scare, a busy kid, fried laptop, crazy dogs, long summer, flying monkeys, and overwhelming forgetfullness got in the way. But I'm back and hopefully my little blog will be better than ever. Solomwi bought me a camera with some of his hard earned money and I've managed to take a few halfway decent pictures with it. Hopefully, I can share a little about life as it shapes me now and has shaped me in the past. I'm sure life will get in the way again, but as long as the flying monkeys don't steal my new laptop or camera, I'll come back...eventually.

Weird Day

Today was one of those days where I kept checking over my shoulder to see if I was on Candid Camera. Nothing extremely odd, but little quirky things happened all day long. There may be a full moon out, but I didn't notice that I was especially hairy this morning. Perhaps it was just karma paying me back for some forgotten transgression. Who knows? I'm just glad one more day is in the books.

Mother Nature needs to take a parenting class

Yesterday morning I was sitting on our front steps reading a book and enjoying the day. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small baby robin hopping around my feet. It was just a fledgling that had apparently fallen from it's nest. I realized the mother robin was chirping loudly and flying nervously from tree to tree. I felt her pain. There's been many a time that my child was in a situation where I couldn't help him as I would have wanted. A quick check of the internet and I realized there was nothing that I could do to help the baby robin and his very upset momma, other than chase away the neighbor's cat several times. It finally hit me that Mother Nature could use a parenting lesson. It seems so cruel to me that a baby and mother could be separated and it's all part of Nature's plan. I guess she takes a "hands off" approach to parenting and lots of tough love lessons. I prefer to take my child breakfast in bed and give him back rubs at bedtime to relieve the day's stress. Hopefully Father Time will agree to watch the kids so Mother Nature can sign up for a class at her local Y.

Weekend Round Up

Peppy loved flying. He even loved it when we flew through some pretty bumpy air. As adults around us were turning five shades of green, my champ was chillin' like a villain. The wedding was beautiful and the bride was stunning. The house in which we stayed was by far one of the coolest places I've laid my head. (pic below) Also, I've decided that St. Simons Island is now one of my top places to live. I loved the laid back attitude of the people and the beautiful live oaks dripping with Spanish Moss. Most of all, I enjoyed spending time with Solomwi, Peppy, and the in-laws. My husband's family is always so warm and welcoming and we got the exciting news that Molly's going to become an official part of the family.

We're gradually returning to normal around the house after our fun filled weekend. The goggies had a great time at the kennel and they came back smelling fresh and clean after their complementary baths. I even think the cat may have missed us...just a little.

Girl we're flyin on the G5 G5

Actually, I think we're taking a much smaller plane, but we're flying on something. It will be Peppy's first time in the air and he's pretty excited about the flight. I'm pretty excited about sharing this moment with him. There are so many firsts in a child's life and it's not always possible to be there for each one. I think it makes those firsts so much more special when I am there to witness them. I personally love to fly and I hope that Pep will share that sentiment as well. If not, I'll hold the barf bag for him and tell him it will all be over soon.

Lots of love,
'bug

Clothes shopping is UNFUN.

I don't like to buy clothes for myself. I could buy all day for other people, but I do not like to purchase clothes for myself. In fact, I'm not super comfortable purchasing anything that is solely for my own use. I did manage to find a nice outfit to wear to a wedding I'll be attending this weekend. I also found a tie for Peppy to wear to the same wedding. When I showed it to him, he looked at me as if I were holding out a hangman's noose covered in the blood of other victims. Of course, to an eleven year old, that's probably preferable to wearing the tie. At least you could brag to your friends about sporting a blood soaked hangman's noose. There's not much street cred being handed out on the playground for the kid that wore the tie. Of course, I wonder how much street cred is handed out on the playground in the first place, but that's really neither here nor there.

I'm also struggling to find a use for the brightly colored boiled eggs that are habitating in my fridge. Our big doggie is allergic to chicken and also suffers from the occasional bout of gas that can clear a room...fifteen miles a way. Our small doggie sleeps in my bed, so no boiled eggs for him either. If anyone has a suggestion for the eggs, please feel free to comment.

Really, just comment...period. The silence is deafening.

It's not Blogger's Block

I realize that I’ve had my blog for less than a week and I’ve already left my readers (all three of you) without entertainment for one night. It’s not bloggers block though. I’m never at a loss for words. I am, however, frequently at a loss for time. Last night was a whirlwind of cooking, cleaning, laundry, and shooting the breeze with my wonderful kid. I also played with the dogs and fed the kitty. I was almost a domestic goddess…almost.

Unfortunately, tonight is no different. Tonight Peppy and I are heading out to sit in too-cold-for-April-even-if-it-is-Birmingham weather and watch my adorable niece “Ghee” play softball.

However, in an effort to not leave you hanging…again…I have asked a guest blogger to fill in for me. Please welcome Cinco, our moderately obese kitty, as he blogs about his day.

I woke up this morning to the sound of the female human slave’s alarm. She allowed it to ring repeatedly, so I decided to punish her by marching across her face. She finally woke up and I tried once again to make her fall down the stairs while she was carrying the small red dog slave. I have nothing against the female human slave, but the small red dog slave continues to make unappreciated sexual advances towards me. I watched from the safety of the dryer as the big dumb dog slave was released from her cage. The female human slave fed them first…I remembered to puke up a hairball on the kitchen floor, while she was at work, as punishment for this error. After enjoying a hearty breakfast I snuggled with the human child slave while he ate his breakfast in bed. I have still been unable to train the female human slave to bring ME breakfast in bed, but I’m patient. After the human slaves locked the dog slaves in their crates and left for the day, I decided to bathe myself in front of the crates. I always enjoy sending the inferior animals a reminder that I am not incarcerated during the day. Later, I decided to curl up on a clean pile of laundry and sleep for a few hours. I left a surprise in the litter box and then slept for a few more hours. The excitement of leaving the hairy punishment on the kitchen floor wiped me out, so I again powernapped until the human slaves arrived again. I’ve decided to let them live another 24 hours, but that’s mainly because I haven’t learned to open the cat food can by myself.

Disdainfully yours,
Cinco

The Legend of the Easter Bunnies & The Spring Chickens...or reason #7 that my son may one day need therapy

There are highs and lows to having a smart child. One of the lows of raising my smart child came when he was four years old and wanted to know the background of the Easter Bunny. It was bedtime on Easter night and he was a little hyped up on too much sugar and chocolate. I was exhausted from hiding plastic eggs eleventy billion times and just a little loopy. That combination resulted in The Legend of the Easter Bunnies and the Spring Chickens. It went something like this:

Peppy: Mom how does the Easter Bunny get to everybody’s house in one night?
Me: There’s more than one Easter Bunny and they each hit a few houses.
Peppy: How many Easter Bunnies are there?
Me: Millions. Bunnies have lots of babies.
Peppy: Do the Easter Bunnies hide if you wake up during the night and catch them in your house?
Me: No. Do you know the chocolate bunnies they sell?
Peppy: Yes.
Me: Well if you wake up and catch one of the Easter Bunnies they turn into chocolate bunnies.
Preston: Really?
Me: Yes. That’s how they keep the Easter Bunny population under control.
Peppy: Where do the Easter Bunnies live?
Me: There’s a hole in the ground that leads to a huge cave. They live there.
Peppy: Do they live alone?
Me: No, the Spring Chickens live there too.
Peppy: Who are the Spring Chickens?
Me: You know the plastic eggs?
Peppy: Yep
Me: They lay the plastic eggs and the Easter Bunnies ship them out to all the stores.
Peppy: What keeps people from getting into the cave and turning all the Easter Bunnies into chocolate bunnies?
Me: They have a guard dog.
Peppy: What kind of guard dog?
Me: A chocolate lab.
Peppy: What’s the dog’s name?
Me: Hershey
Peppy: Mom, how do you know all this stuff?
Me: A fairy told me. Now, please go to sleep.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Easter!

First Crushes and First Blogs

My first love was Dale Murphy. He was a baseball player for the Atlanta Braves and he always looked so handsome in his baby blue uniform. He made my 8 year old heart skip a beat when he stepped to the plate. I thought I would grow up and one day marry Dale Murphy. Then my older brother pointed out that Dale Murphy was already married and...just like that my 8 year old heart was shattered into tiny skittle sized pieces. However, it started a trend of my developing crushes on athletes in blue uniforms that continued until the day that I married my dear husband. Although it's been over fifteen years since he wore his blue football jersey, I've seen the pictures and they too made my heart skip a beat.

Now I've created my first blog, and I have that same giddy sense of excitement that I had when I was crushing on The Murph. Everything feels new and exciting. I'm all warm and tingly. My head is spinning and I feel like giggling. While I'm pretty certain it's the blog, it could also be the glass of wine I was sipping earlier. Anywho, I look forward to this post being the first of many that will keep people entertained and coming back for more.

Much love always,
ladibug