Recovering

(This is my official disclaimer for any events that are apparently out of my control.)

Last week was just the pits. Not only did we return from a long (and tiring) 4 day trip, with mounds of laundry to boot, I also returned home with seasonal allergies and a full blown allergy attack. Couple that with PMS and wha-la! You've got... well,... you've got a bad reaction to say the least.

My brain is still in defunct mode and I can't seem to break out of this fog. Trying to think if it because we're on the brink of Spring and I'm slowly coming out of hibernation? Or maybe just having a blond week? Or maybe I'm just tired, over-worked, underpaid and need a swift kick in the rear-end?

So, if I have neglected to return an email, wish birthday greetings, turn in important paperwork, miss an appointment or return a phone call, um.... what can I say... other than... I'm having an out of brain experience right now. Please check your number or try your call again.

Tag, you're it!

I've been tagged by Leigh Ann!

Here's goes:

1. If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? I'm already living the dream...right here in Texas!

2. What's your favorite article of clothing? My jeans

3. Favorite physical feature of the opposite sex? Hair

4. What's the last CD that you bought? "Forget Paris" soundtrack

5. Where's your favorite place to be? At home

6. Where is your least favorite place to be? Stuck in traffic (I'm stealing LA's answer, because it is so true!)

7. What's your favorite place to be massaged? My back.

8. Strong in mind or strong in body? Mind

9. What time do you wake up in the morning? Around 5:40AM

10. What is your favorite kitchen appliance? Dish washer

11. What makes you really angry? Incompetence

12. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? I already play the flute and piano

13. Favorite color? Pink

14. Which do you prefer...sports car or SUV? Sports car - drove one for years! Loved it.

15. Do you believe in an afterlife? Yep! Heaven or Hell.

16. Favorite children's book? "Turtle Time: A Bedtime Story" or "Where the Sidewalk Ends"

17. What is your favorite season? Spring

18. Your least favorite household chore? Mopping

19. If you could have one super power, what would it be? To eliminate stupidity.

20. If you have a tattoo, what is it? No tattoos here.

21. Can you juggle? Nope.

22. The one person from your past that you wish you could go back and talk to? No one comes to mind...

23. What's your favorite day? Monday... yes, I know.

24. What's in the trunk of your car? umbrella stroller

25. Which do you prefer, sushi or hamburger? Hamburger

I tag: Kristi, Angie and Amanda

Desperation, not necessity, is the mother of invention

I'm a liar and I admit it freely. Ahem.

Let me start by saying I don't pride my self on being a liar, but reality is... I am one.

When we got the mini-van I remember telling at least one person (if not many) that the DVD player would be for long trips in the van to visit the grandparents or the like. I did not want to be one of 'those' moms who played the DVD player in the van just to zip down the road to the grocery store for milk or bread.

It began as a slippery slope of events that led up to this...my true confessional... that I am about to reveal today.

It started out as the only way Randy and I could get to have a conversation in the van on the way to run errands. "Can I put a DVD in so we can have a conversation?" is how it began.

Then, it was while we were in the pick up line at school, waiting for dismissal that I'd let KM watch a show.

Or, sitting in a traffic jam on the way to school because of the #$*@%!^ traffic on my morning commute.

And now, it's just darn near every time we get into the van. Why? Well, I'll tell you why. Because if I don't give them a distraction I end up losing my patience and I begin to get upset. Then it just... well,... it goes downhill from there. It's really for the benefit of my children that I set up a show for them on the DVD player, if not for my own sanity.

I can totally see now, why some moms insist on playing a DVD for simple trips to the store. It's saving my sanity each and every day.

Perhaps the mom who had the bright idea to just have those DVD players installed in mini-vans should be given the Nobel Peace prize... for maintaining... well, peace.

Highlights

Elisan was out of school Friday through Monday, so I seized the opportunity for a girl's weekend. We took a road trip to see the grandparents. Yes, exciting, I know.

We had a great weekend, but I'll only highlight the big stuff. Saturday, we went to see my nephew play basketball with the Little Dribbler's league. Come to find out, none other than Tracy Byrd was sitting within spittin' distance of my family and me. His son is on my nephew's team. So, basically, we were all 'Byrd watching' the entire game.

By the way... he's a local boy to where I grew up, but it's still neat to see a real life country music star take an interest in things such as his 9 year old son's basketball game.

Later that day, my mother and I trekked to the mall for what I thought would be one of the simplest shopping trips of my life. Boy, was I wrong. The deal is, that Randy has his company party this coming up weekend and it's semi-formal. The last two times I went to this party I swore I would not be under-dressed, like I had been before. So, after HOURS of searching for dresses and trying on endless amounts of clothing, I finally found a beaded top and flowing black pants. Other than the skirt part, this is how it will look on (a model). So, hopefully now, I will be dressed appropriately and make a good showing at Randy's company event.

Both girls had a night in mommy's bed while we were away. Kyla Mae spent Friday night in the bed with me. I woke up in the morning with Kyla's foot shoved down the back of my underwear. I guess her feet got cold overnight?

Then Sunday, Elisan had her turn in my bed and she woke me up with her usual sleep talking. This time she exclaimed, "bellissimo" 3 times in her sleep. Now, she's speaking Italian?

So, that's the highlights of the trip. Loads of fun, eh? As always, it's good to be back...

Entitlement

Randy and I often have conversations about the "Entitlement Theory". There seems to be a vast population of people out there that seem to think that something... whatever... is owed to them.

Not sure why. Maybe because of the plain and simple fact that they exist? Who knows.

We don't preach entitlement at our home. If anything, we teach our kids that you work hard for the things that you want and even then, you don't always get what you want.

So, imagine my surprise when my dear child tried to persuade me - using the entitlement argument.

Here's how it went down:

Me, "Elisan, what do you want in your lunch today? Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, ham and cheese sandwich, or a lunchable?"

Elisan, "None of those taste good to me anymore."

Me, "Uh-huh. Okay, so which one of those do you want?"

Elisan, "Nothing."

Me, "Okay."


Minutes pass...

Me, "Elisan, last time... what do you want to eat for lunch?"

Elisan, "Well, mommy, some of my friend's mommy's bring them their lunches from McDonalds. I think I want that today."

Me, "Yeah... well, that's not going to happen today. So, a lunchable?"

Elisan, "Okay." (Looooong sigh.)


So, yes, my child not only thinks she is entitled, but privileged as well.

(Darn those entitled kids.)

"CLICK"

The other night, after dinner, we sent Kyla Mae into the bathroom to wash her hands. She's known to spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom -- playing with the light switch, using too much foam soap or just running the water on full blast for, oh.... 2 minutes or so. This particular night was no different.

A minute later, Elisan doubles over and decides that she needs to go potty - and fast!

Kyla heard Elisan proclaim her bathroom announcement and as soon as Elisan is high-tailing it to the bathroom, we hear "click".

Kyla locked the bathroom door on Elisan. Meanwhile, Elisan is beating on the door pleading with Kyla to let her in, saying that she can't hold it any longer (she's like me... I wait and hold it until the last minute too!). But the door never unlocked. It was not until Randy and I both told her to unlock the door did she let her in.

A few moments later, Kyla comes bouncing out of the bathroom. Barely able to contain our laughter, I ask her if she locked sissy out of the bathroom. She said she did. I asked her if she was being mean to sissy and she said yeah. Randy in his best "stern voice, but I can't stop laughing because it's so darn funny" face, tells Kyla that what she did was naughty. Totally unfazed... she bounced into the next room to play.

Funny on many levels, especially if you know KM, but the fact that she thought fast enough to lock the door as soon as Elisan needed the bathroom was priceless. She's three, but she has the mind of a... well,... five year old?

They're multiplying like bunnies...

I'm all out of light bulbs

Elisan is sick... or maybe she isn't. Honestly, I'm not sure. But, we're home and she's not going to school.

She's five! Shouldn't I be able to tell when my child is sick? Her complaints are headache, tummy ache and sore throat. What is that? Oh, and she has 99.5 fever. Is it the flu? Or is she one good actress?

I don't know. So, meanwhile, she's barking orders from the couch, while I'm worrying whether or not I made the right decision to keep her out of school. I guess only time will tell.

Like I said, my light bulb must've burned out 'cause I can't make heads or tails out of this one.

EDITED TO ADD:
I got my bulb back... she's sick, but not with the flu, or strep... but, with some nasty virus that "been goin' around." And to further solidify the findings, she threw up while I was at the store picking up some weekend provisions. Joy.

The smirking bunny...

The last of the Wee Bunny installment.

Say good-bye to this bunny. I'm done.

But, I'll be back with more bunny news soon...

A mother's love

Sometimes, as I'm contemplating life in general, I almost always stop and try to wrap my mind around the fact that I have two girls. I realize that it is not uncommon to have girls and I don't find myself to be particularly out of the ordinary by having two of them.

However, what strikes me though each time, is that I (Erica) have two girls to raise into independent young women, with high morals, strong values and anything else that will equip them be responsible adults. Of course, I'm not going at it alone... I have Randy to help me along the way. Honestly, I would not be able to do it alone and I'm thankful I don't have to.

The scary part of it is, that although I turned out to be a responsible adult with strong values and high morals, I still shudder at the thought of what I put my mother (and father) through in my teenage years and early adulthood. There were times, I'm sure that they questioned my morals and values more than I care to know. I know what I was like, and I hope... no, I pray, that my girls will not travel the same paths that I did. If there were some way for me to guard them from making the same mistakes I made, I would, but I know that is not possible.

My mother protected me from one of my worst mistakes. A mistake that could have cost much more than I would have ever anticipated. That mistake is something that I don't mind sharing about because it taught me a lesson about a mother's discernment.

While I was in high school I began running around with a girl that was truly a bad influence. Oh, she was not a dope head or promiscuous... she was just rebellious. Her father was a high profile F.B.I. agent, which meant to her that she had to... no, needed to... buck authority any chance she could. Because of that, she was a bad influence.

I will admit though... I really liked her. She was fun to be around, had no inhibitions, she was creative, funny and best of all, she thought I was fun to be around, creative and funny too. We were like two peas in a pod the last two years of high school. I shunned my wealth of faithful friends for my one new friend. (Side note: One of my "shunned"friends reads my blog now, and we're still friends. Thanks for giving me a second chance!)

Fast forward to the Summer after high school graduation - 1991. It was during this Summer that my rebellious stage took a sharp turn. I began lying and sneaking out. I was drinking and partying. I was wrapped around the finger of my friend and basically her puppet. I did what she did and was happy to be doing it.

One day, we had plans to go to the mall. While we were in the dressing room at the GAP, my friend decided she was going to shoplift some of the clothes she was trying on. This was the first time I had ever witnessed her stealing, but by the looks of it, she was a pro at it. So, we walked out, and I was amazed at how easy it was. Truthfully, it had never occurred to me up until that moment to shoplift. I'm not wired that way.

We then headed over to the big department store. The whole walk over, I was grilling her about what had just happened. She just shrugged it off and said she does it all the time. I couldn't believe it. Here I am, in this hard place because as much as I knew it was wrong to shoplift, I was also with my best friend whom I trusted. So, in the dressing room she begins to stuff the clothes into her purse, into my purse, into our shopping bag, etc. It was insane. And there I was, right along side her. It was one of those moments where you are actually looking down upon yourself, saying, "what the heck are you doing!!" but not being able to stop it.

So, we walked out. And we did it. I couldn't believe it, but again, it was so easy.

I got home later that afternoon with the stuff and I shoved it in the back of my closet. I knew that if my mother saw what I had brought home, she would know that I would not have had the money to buy any of it.

Well, she must've sensed that something was up, because later that day she began to question me about the mall trip. Did you buy anything? You were there a long time... Did your friend buy anything? I gave you money to go to the mall... did you spend it? Etc., etc. The next day, still sensing something was up, she went poking around in my closet and of course, she found the stash.

Now, I know there is a faction of people out there who would not condone my mother snooping around in my closet. But, the fact is that I was a resident of their home and I was giving her a darn good reason to be suspicious. Besides, her finding the loot was one of the most pivotal moments in my life.

So, the short of the long of it was that she found the stuff and boy was I in trouble! My mother's original plan was to have me bring the items back to the store and apologize. Thankfully, I talked her out of it. I think she realized that I could have some serious repercussions from that. So, I hand wrote out an apology letter and mailed the items back to the store. My punishment? In exchange for not hand-delivering the stuff back to the store, I was not allowed to see my best friend ever again.

Trust me, being caught shoplifting by my mother may not seem as harsh, as being caught by the store security, but let me set that straight... it was probably worse. Not only had I broken her trust, but I let her down... immensely. She had warned me and warned me about my friend and was very vocal about her dislike for her, even before I really hit the highlight of my rebellion stage, but I never listened.

Yet at that moment, my mother seized the perfect opportunity to sever the relationship that I had with my friend, before it ruined my life for good.

Who knows what would've happened had I my mother turned me in to the department store security. It was a real and frightening possibility. She was not just tossing around idle threats. Instead, she looked at the broader picture and saved me from myself.

I guess what this all boils down to is this. You can't expect that your children will do what you want them to do, when you want them to do it. And you can't expect your children to make the best choices in life, even if you've equipped them to make right choices. But, you can stand firm, along side them and help them as they go.

Had I not gotten the love and help from my mom, who knows where I'd be today. And, not just in this instance, but other times, when she stood by and let me make my mistake, but was there to help me pick up the pieces, or when she stood her ground and made decisions on my behalf. Whatever the case may be... my mother's love, help and intuition guided me and molded me into who I am today.

Perhaps I shudder at the thought of having two girls who will one day be teenagers (at the same time!), but I know that in my heart, I will be there to help them, guide them, lay down the law when necessary and of course, love them through all of their pitfalls and victories.

I want them to know, just as I knew, that they are loved more than anything else, unconditionally and without a doubt by their mother.

A mother's love.

Weeeeeeee!

Once I figure out how to add the eyes and embroider the face (yeah...right!) I'll be done. Until then... here is my faceless Wee Bunny! And you thought I couldn't do it!

Lipstick Personality Test!

Let's have some fun! Take the Lipstick Personality Test and post your results in the comments area!

Erica's Results:

Stays close to original tip slant:

• Abides by the rules
• Great follower
• Does not like too much attention
• A little self-conscious
• Somewhat reserved
• Likes a schedule
• May occasionally color hair to attract attention

Do something creative everyday

I found these really pretty glass beads at my favorite craft store. I couldn't resist making not one, but two necklaces and matching earrings. This is my first attempt at making earrings and I thought they turned out nice.

Why, oh why?

Can someone tell me why drink makers insist on making RED fruit beverages for kids?

I'm now looking at my stained kitchen floor from spilled Hawaiian Punch drink from lunch today. I don't ever buy that stuff...it just happened to come in the Lunchable that KM had to eat for lunch today.

C'mon, people. They're kids! For the love of all that is just and good... can we have some clear fruit beverages?

Meanwhile, I'm stuck looking at my stained floor.

Joy.

Or maybe, just maybe... the joke is on me. Maybe it's a conspiracy that the beverage makers have going on with the flooring industry. Yeah. That's it.

I'm going to chalk it up as just that. A conspiracy. Right alongside global warming.

Old People

I love old people.

Old people have earned the right to say anything they want. Right or wrong, good or bad, they say what they mean, and mean what they say.

Old people do as they please and oftentimes fore go political correctness in the pursuit of 'their way.' A supreme example of this was demonstrated to us several weeks ago at a local eating establishment.

It was a Friday and Randy had the day off, so he took KM and me to lunch at one of the new restaurants in our little town. As expected, it was crowded with lunch-goers.

About mid-way into our dining experience a child on the other side of the restaurant began to throw a tantrum. At first, a few heads turned, looking in the direction of the child, but then went on about their business. The tantrum continued and a minute later an uncomfortableness crept into the restaurant as people began shifting in their seats and whispering about the child that was having a meltdown. Another minute passed and the child was not stopping her apparent battle of the wills.

People, the tantrum lasted at least 3 minutes. Now, stop and consider this for a moment. THREE MINUTES. THREE. 180 seconds of non-stop screaming.

What was the parent doing all this time? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. She was ignoring her and continuing her conversation with the other three adults at her table.

What was the old guy sitting across from our table doing? He was walking over to the table with the three adults and one screaming kid to kindly ask the woman to tend to her child.

The old guy then returned to his table to finish his meal.

Well, I don't know what he said to her, but miraculously the child stopped crying! But, the mom started. She cried and complained to the manager that she was told to control her child by "that" man, pointing in the direction of the old guy. The manager then went over to the old guy and told him that this was his restaurant and that HE would handle his patrons, not HIM.

As you can imagine, the mom's meal was comped and she and her party immediately left the restaurant, if for nothing else, out of sheer embarrassment.

A part of me is glad the old guy had enough guts to stand up to the woman and her screaming child, if not for himself, but for the other 50 patrons in the restaurant. The other part of me is sad that it even had to come to that.

I realize the mother did not want to give into her child's demands, thereby ignoring her tantrum, but at the expense of 50 other patrons? Ummm, I think not.

Regardless of the situation, we thought it was comical.

Like I said, right or wrong... old people say what they mean, and mean what they say.

By the way, that same old guy complimented us on his way out on our well-behaved three-year old child, who was sitting quietly hoarding all of the chips and salsa to herself.