Go West

Is there any thing cuter than the shows your kids are in? I don't think so. Last night was the fourth grade chorus show called Go West. Saige had a speaking part. Four lines, but speaking. It always makes me so proud when she's up on a stage, she loves to be up there. Me? Couldn't pay me. I remember my one performance in Berwyn Elementary school to Jimmy (or Johnny, I can never remember which) Crack Corn and I think my skirt fell off. That was enough for me. Not Saige, she'll perform in any show that comes along. I love that about her. Her friend Sarah also had a special singing part. I sat with Sarah's mom. Sarah is one of my favorites of Saige's friends, she is very funny and very confident. Her mom told me that she was feeling a little apprehensive about this singing part, because, well, she really can't sing. Her mom said, "Sarah, why did you try out for it then?" Sarah said, "I didn't think I'd make it." Ok. Only three kids tried out, they all made it. Sarah has a Demi Moore kind of voice. They gave her a soprano singing job. It was literally one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. I was very proud of all of them. Sarah also told her Mom to be prepared to "be blown away" by her classes dance. Blown away we were.

Happy Birthday Mark!

Happy Birthday Mark! I hope you have a great day. May your beard be brown, your counter be full any your gym be open. If anyone asks me today, you're the youngest. That makes me shudder, but I'll say it. LYTB

Rain, Rain

Just go away. You are bumming me out. I get it. Enough already. That's all.

Go-Kart Racing

Every Friday afternoon I run Chase down to Marc's work as soon as school is done. They pack up their big trailer and go go-kart racing. I had never gone. Chase racing scares me. I don't like to be there when he is on his motorcycle either. I just get so nervous that he is going to get hurt but I don't want to ruin it for him so I just let it be something Marc does with him. For weeks though I have been hearing how good he is and he loves it. So I decided to go. It's all the way out in the middle of nowhere. You drive and drive along this really pretty windy road by a river and trees and stuff and all of the sudden there is this big race track and tons of people with big trucks and trailers and the go-karts on these little stands and all the dads are cleaning and doing stuff to them. It's cute, really. There are dogs and kids and big lights. It was a whole other world from my usual Friday night dinners at Teikoku with my friends. A lot of time was spent waiting for the other races to go. During this entire time Chase and his friends Ethan and another Chase chased each other around. Like dogs, just ran and ran and ran.


After a while it was time for Chase's race. He got all his little gear on and got in his cart and got out on the track. They looked to be going very fast. It was scary for me. Marc assured me that no one EVER gets hurt. Hmmmm.... It looked like a miniature car race. What is Marc priming him for I wonder to myself. I don't think I want to know. Although it scared me for him it did look really fun and he does love it. So I'm good with it.

The Art of the Remake

It's so gorgeous out today already. Even though we are all completely hit by our allergies, Chase, coughing, Saige with itchy eyes and I'm sneezing, everyone is happy. It's Friday, the suns shining and at quarter of eight in the morning the music's blaring. Chase is not pleased with my choice this morning. It's this version of Sweet Home Alabama by B.A.M.A.(some criminals in jail apparently made this one) which Christina's husband Dave turned me on to and I love. Chase is wondering why we aren't listening to the version he loves, which is actually called All Summer Long by Kid Rock. My kids are just partial to Kid Rock in general. I have to explain to him that it's actually Lynyrd Skynyrd that sings the original. Chase wants to song test it. He likes to do that with all the different versions of No Woman No Cry too. So I put on Lynyrd Skynyrd, they listen intently. Chase is like, "Oh yeah, I remember this one. You remember this Saige?" But of course. Then we move on to Kid Rock's which at the beginning actually sounds a lot like Warren Zevon's Werewolf's of London. Confusing to those of us a wee bit older at first. This is obviously the hands down favorite for Chase. He already knows he doesn't like my new version but will listen just to play the game. So as we are walking down to the bus he says, "I think I like Kid Rock's the best, then that other one and not the new one at all." He knows what he likes. I can totally appreciate that. Saige, being Saige, not wanting to choose sides says, "I think I like all three." I'm good with that too. Me? I like the prison guys version best. I'm going to play it today in yoga and we're gonna bang out some crazy stuff. Loud music and a touch to much caffeine on yoga day can be interesting.

Tulu, Turkey and Trips to the Beach

I have a very fancy friend, BA (short for Bethanne which is short for Elizabeth Anne- which I can't help hearing how our 2nd grade teacher Mrs. Randall used pronounce it in my head, very haughty) . She has been my friend since I was about 3. She lives in Istanbul, which is so lovely for her and lovely for me cause it means I get to go visit her. Two years ago I took Saige and we went for two weeks and stayed in Istanbul and two gorgeous little towns on the Mediterranean called Kalkan and Kas. We skipped last year because of our cross country trip but this July we are going back. This time we will spend most of our time in Kas because BA has rented a house there for the summer. My Mom can't believe we are going all the way to Turkey to go to the beach. Come on. How could you not believe that? Have we met? Ba assures me we will see something of importance so I can take pictures and show my Mom. Maybe a mosque or something? Tulu is her latest business. She gets fabric made in Uzbekistan (contrary to popular belief this is a country, not a stand where someone named Uzbeki sells stuff) and has a rug business and all sorts of cool stuff. I just love this picture that she took, that's why it's up here.

A Letter Writing Campaign

My friend Jen and I have had a little competition going for years and years. We like to write letters to people or companies who we feel have wronged us. Nine times out of ten these letters don't get sent because our only goal is to make the other one laugh harder with the goofiest phrases and words we can come up with that would fit that particular subject. They have ranged from a severely bizarre looking potato chip that we felt ruined the whole bag to a neighbor who just plain pissed me off. Like I said, we are really the only ones who see these. Thank God, or they would put us away. She sent me one today that she had written about some field trip her class had taken that was not up to her standards. It was funny but it reminded me of one she wrote that I have had for the past ten years. She made it from me but she actually wrote it. It was to Toys R Us. I am going to post it here because it still makes me laugh when I read it.
April 8, 1998

To Whom It May Concern,
I am writing this letter because it has come to my attention that certain matters have not been addressed as have been promised forthcoming. As per the letter I had written dated back in October, I had a very unfortunate encounter within your store, not ONCE, but TWICE. I keep asking myself, do others experience the kind of ineptitude that is running rampant throughout your supposed kind-hearted store, and if so, what have they done about it?

After the initial letter I sent expressing my dismay at the way I was treated, I spoke with a representative from your headquarters who assured me that I would be receiving "jeffrey dollars" as though this would assuage any ill will felt toward your franchise. Well imagine my dismay, when I have finally realized that in addition to the flagrant rudeness with which you allow your employees to act, I have to deal with empty promises made from those in positions that should know better that to try to artificially appease the above average consumer. Obviously, when I wrote the afore-mentioned letter, I was in my final months of my pregnancy. Since then my daughter and I have been forced to shop at your store for convince sake, whenever those necessary items are needed. I have make a point to shop at other stores when I need to purchase other high ticket items, and as my daughter grows, I know that it will be easier to travel farther to other establishments in the hope of being treated with the courtesy that I, and every other consumer deserve.

PS I have left at an undisclosed location will be UNLESS the following are addressed. I am requesting:
1. Any and all retire Beanie Babies IN THEIR ORIGINAL PACKAGING
2. A LIFETIME SUPPLY OD DIAPER GENIES AND DIAPER ATTACHMENTS
3. $1000 in UNMARKED JEFFREY DOLLARs TO BE LEFT AT A MUTUALLY AGREEABLE LOCATION

Election Day

Vote. Right? Even if you're one of those people (and you know who you are) who just want to cancel out my vote. Immature as that may be. Vote anyway. All the Republicans who are voting Democrat, because, well... you know. Go get 'em. You don't have much to do, hold on to that Democrat vote for later.
K. I'll share this one little ditty. Cause it's funny. Around the last Presidential election, I know, very surprisingly, I wasn't a Bush fan. My family knew this. At one point Marc said, "Amy, you can't always talk bad about him in front of the kids." Uh, yes I can. I said, "I can say whatever I want." He just rolled his eyes and went about his business. So a few days later I had Saige and Chase at the indoor pool at our gym. They were swimming for a long time. At that time we had a friend of ours, Rachel, staying with us. When we got home from the pool she looked at Chase and said, "Chase, your eyes are so red." Chase looked at her in all sorts of five year old seriousness and replies, "Yes, Bush put to much chlorine in the pool." Duh.

Happy Birthday Amanda

Happy Birthday Amanda!! I love you to pieces. Hope you have an awesome day.

Buddy- A Good Dog Story

Saige went to spend the weekend with Marc's sister Suzanne so it was just Chase and Marc and I. Chase hasn't been feeling all that well. It of course hasn't stopped him from playing with his friends but when he comes home he likes to chill. So after a long day of playing yesterday he came home and while we waited for Marc to get home from work to go out to dinner we lied on my bed, listened to music and talked. You know how I love this. He was quite focused on our dog Buddy, who died six years ago. Chase was only three when Buddy died but he made a big impact on him. Buddy was the dog you get like once and then compare every other dog to. Still, to this day when I tell the story of how he died I cry. I still miss him.

Anyway, for a long time, before this internet thing. I used to keep private journals. I have always in the back of my mind wondered who was going to get to keep them cause there are stories about both in here. So I decided to every once in a while I'll put one in here.
There are many things the kids do and say that literally take my breath away. Yesterday I had one of those moments with Chase. It had actually started a few days back. We were all in the car and out of nowhere Chase asks why Pop Pop has a stone (meaning a headstone) and Buddy does not have one. So I had to tell him that we had Buddy's ashes in a box. This is not any easy concept for adults, so for kids, cremation is just plain bizarre. But he let it go at that, for the moment. So a few days go by and yesterday morning we woke up. Now it was just him and I, Marc had left for work and Saigy had slept over at Brigettes. So we wake up and he says to me, "Mom, can I see the box with Buddy's ashes now?" So I say, "OK." and we go downstairs to get it out. Now let me say that I have never opened this before. So anyway we go downstairs and I get the box out and it has a plaque on the top that says Buddy and I show it to him. (hoping that's good enough)He says, "Open it." I say, "It's locked." He points to the keys. So I get them off the box and I unlock the lock and lift open the lid. Inside is a bag with his ashes and on top of that is his collar and his leash. I did not expect that and it kind of took me back and brought tears to my eyes. he asked me to open the bag but i told him that was not a good idea. So at this moment he looks at me with this face so filled with knowing it is hard for me to even describe and he says, "You can close it now," and he turns hims head so I won't see his tears. Meanwhile, I am crying now. He comes over to me and we hugged and cried for a moment, then he says, "Stop crying Mommy, see I stopped. Please don't cry Mommy." and then we put the box away and he understood. This is one of the many amazing things about Chase, he just gets it. His compassion is endless.

Mickey, You're Outta Here.....

Just kidding. It goes through my mind though more often than I'd like to admit. I have had all kinds of dogs, runners, shedders, biters, barkers, none though that have ever gotten under my skin like Mickey. He means well, I know that, but he is driving me crazy. He just doesn't get "it." I have always had German Shepherds. You know, smart dogs. Dogs you can talk to and they seem to understand. If not understand at least get the basic, "Use the outside as your bathroom." I don't think this is that difficult, even for the dumbest of dogs. Except Mickey. This is a concept he just doesn't seem to understand. We have a fenced in yard. I am home a lot. He has no reason to pee in here. I was simaltaneously writing a $300 check to Neil the rug cleaner guy and cleaning up Mickeys latest pee spot. I called Lisa and said, "I'm thinking of sending Mickey to the farm." Now of course, I was kidding. Lisa was very quick with the response though, "Get rid of that dog." Now, Chris, if you're reading, you know, I won't dump him (unless Shannon wants him of course).
I was busy by being irritated by him this morning when I saw an e mail from Marc, I opened it and it said, Dear mom, I was really hoping to go to sleepover camp this year and dad told me there is this awesome camp in Hamonton NJ.can i please go !!!!
Love, Mickey. P.S. I attached a picture for my camp id.

Inappropriate ? Maybe. Do I Care? No.

Yesterday started third marking period conferences. The kids have half days Wednesday and Thursday, no school Friday. Luckily it is so gorgeous out. Not like those annoying rain/snow days. So I am one of the first conferences. I take Chase to my friend Lisa's house so he can play with Ethan. To explain Lisa you only have to imagine Gabrielle from Desperate Housewives. Really. That's Lisa. Always looks perfect. Always dressed beautifully, sometimes, maybe, to baseball games a little over the top, but still, perfect. My friend Christina calls herself an unmade bed next to Lisa. I like to refer to myself as her Oscar to my Felix. So I walk in her house and she looks me up and down, points her finger from head to toe and says, "What's this get up you're wearing to teacher conferences?" As I gave myself the mental once over I kind of laughed. This is what I had on... Abercrombie kind of long jean shorts, a blue True Religion t-shirt, that said Rebel and black flip flops. Hmmm.. To my credit I had on good jewelery and nice watch which really, doesn't that make up for whatever my outfit might be lacking. Christina was there too, she said, "Well, the Ed Hardy backpack makes up for everything." I said, "I think you won the inappropriate outfit contest when you wore that pink getup with the short shorts and the over sized white and pink sunglasses and high heels to the baseball game." She replied, "You're running a close second with the Rebel t-shirt sister." Whatever, I don't care. It was nice out, I wanted to wear shorts. One time Chase went to a army birthday party, the mom sent me pictures after and I realized while all the kids had on fatiques Chase had worn a t-shirt with a huge peace sign that said, "Peace Now," I'm sorry, it's just us. And can I just say when I returned she was lying out on her back patio in a bikini with headphones on while 13 kids were washing her car with laundry detergent. Who's the crazy one?

Passing The Baton

Okay, I am going to give you another prime example of my exemplary parenting skills. I have mentioned before that I am not a yeller. I don't. I do however, on occasion go into the bathroom or the mudroom or sometimes even just turn my back around and silently mouth the words shut up (although in my version, edited here, there is another choice word in that little phrase). While seemingly childish, it really helps. Even though no one but me knows that I have said this it gives me quite a bit of satisfaction. Anyway, this morning Saige and Chase just started off on the wrong foot. I have to say, he started it. He was just getting under her skin for no reason. I was in a really good mood. Had already been to the gym and was quite jacked up on caffeine, music blaring, really in no mood to hear them bickering over whether we returned the report cards to the school or not. Chase was finished eating so I sent him upstairs and told him to collect the water cups from the sides of their beds. Oh, he grumbled that he had to get both, "She's got two legs." he said under his breath. She was just about to respond when I decided to share my secret with her. I said, "Instead of reacting to him and giving him the satisfaction of your anger. When he's not looking just silently mouth the words shut up. That way you haven't said them aloud (cause they're not allowed to say that) but it will make you feel better. I promise." She smiled at me. "Really? You think?" she said. "Oh, I know, I do it to you guys all the time." I said with a smirk. She grinned at me, then she went upstairs cause it was taking Chase so long. She came back down and he was still grumbling and she said, "I already did it twice, it does work." Nice.

Running

Most of my yoga friends cringe when I mention running. In fact, lot's of people do. The old, bad for my knees, to hard on the body, HATE running. Of course, you say potato, I say, I don't eat potatoes in any form. Anyway, I actually do love running. Just the slightest of tads less than I love yoga. I love running for many reasons, the main one being it is the one thing I do all alone that can totally and completely clear my head. It makes me so happy. A few weeks ago I did something to my leg. I ran on it anyway. It hurt really bad. Finally last week I smartened up, listened to people, started taking the anti-inflammatory and didn't run on it. I don't watch that much tv, but it seemed everytime I did I would see this commercial where a guy is sitting on a bench and the announcer says, "You broke up with running last week, and now you see running everywhere." The guy on the bench is looking longingly at people running all around him. I felt sorry for the actor/sad guy/non-runner sitting on the bench and in turn felt very sorry for myself.But I listened to the smarter than me people and didn't run. Until today. My leg has felt ok for the past couple days so I thought I'd give it a try. It was nice out. I put on a new playlist that I spent way to much time coming up with this morning. Laced up my sneakers and went outside. I didn't push it, I didn't run for speed like I usually do, I just took a nice long run. It was a really really happy time for me. I'm done and I miss it, like I might miss a friend when they have to go home. My leg doesn't hurt though and there's always tomorrow.

The Boys

After his skateboarding party Chase had some buddies sleep over. All of their Mom's are my best friends. Most who read this. So just wanted to say, Well done. I love these boys, each one is as sweet and polite as the next. I know they curse when they think no one is listening (all of 'em) but they say, "Please and Thank you Amy," everytime. It's a pleasure having them here. They make me laugh too.

Where The Two Meet

So, as I was looking over these past two entries and reading the comment from my Mom it occured to me how it really went down. So, as I said, at first I was set on no kids, then I wanted that one girl. When I found out I was pregnant and Saige was only nine months old it was a bit of a shock. I remember feeling a bit thrown off. When I first found out I had no interest in talking to any of my friends, at first I didn't even want to talk to my Mom or to Marc. I sat on our back deck and the only person in the whole world who's voice I wanted to hear and who I wanted desperately to talk to was my brother Mark. It was seriously like a revelation, all of the sudden I thought, "Oh my God, maybe this is what I am giving Saige." I thought maybe I could be giving her the chance at the relationship that I have with my brother. All of the sudden everything was okay. I understood. Let's hope that plays out the way I thought....

Happy Birthday Chase!!

I have said to him a million times, "I waited thirty years for the perfect man to come into my life." My baby Chase. Everyone who knows me knows that for a long time I wanted no kids at all. Then I wanted one girl. I had Saige. I was all good. Then Chase snuck his way in. I have been thankful everyday of my life for him. He has always been more wonderful than I feel I deserved. I have friends who call him "false advertising" because he is such a easy kid to be around. He's my "yes" man. When he was really little, like two, he didn't talk hardly at all, he did however use the potty. People used to always be so concerned about his not talking. They would say, "Aren't you worried?" I would say in all honesty, "No, he doesn't talk and he uses the potty. He is the perfect child." Now I know no one is perfect but to me he comes pretty close. I truly can't believe he is nine today. It is lovely and heartbreaking at the same time. He is my baby. He still holds my hand. He is all about hugging and telling you he loves you. He gets sad if he sees a tree getting cut down and will say, "Oh, poor tree." When we were away this summer the highlight of his time was to see the momma and baby bear together in the wild. He has a huge heart. He understands people. He cares. He'll be the first one to notice you got your hair cut or have on a new shirt. He's a love. This week I got a e mail from his teacher saying that he was calling out in class, being disruptive. I made him write a letter to her explaining why he was acting up. I didn't know what he was going to write. In it he said, "I'm sorry for the way I have been acting in class. I just like to make people laugh. It makes me feel good." I love him with all my heart and soul.
One time I was up in my bedroom with the window open. He was playing out back. I could hear him talking to himself. I heard him say, "Shit." I called out the window, "Chase, you can't say that." He looked up at me and smiled and said, "There's nobody else here. I'm talking to myself. I didn't know you were listening." I even loved that. I love the way his mind works. I hope he uses it for good and not for evil cause he can work it like nobodies business.
When he was five he asked to get his ear pierced. I said yes, of course. I told him to ask Marc. Marc said, "Why do you want to do that Buddy? Nobody else you know has their ear pierced." Chase replied, "It's just my style." Go get 'em Tiger. Be yourself. He has never cared what other people think about him. One year when he was a cheerleader for Halloween we said, "Kids might make fun baby, you sure that's what you want to be." He said, "That's their problem if they make fun of me, not mine. I think it's funny." God, wouldn't life be easier if everyone understood that?
I could tell endless Chase stories. He has moments of such extreme profoundness that it makes me tear up thinking about them. He somtimes likes me to read to him from a book called Many Lives Many Masters which is about past lives. He will listen so intently to this adult book and then have long discussions about it and what parts we might have played in each others lives before. He also likes to play soccer and football, ride motorcycles, and more than anything hang with his friends and family.
So nine years ago today Marc and I were blessed by him choosing us as his mom and dad and coming into our life. We are overwhelmingly grateful for that. Happy Birthday Sweetheart.

You're Crazy

I have a friend who has the funniest stories ever. She should write her own blog. Many of the stories would be fit for an "alternate" blog. One that the whole family didn't read. We'll get to that at some point. That would be the really funny one. Anyway, she called me last night, a couple glasses of wine in and said, "I don't know if you're going to think this is funny, but you might." "Try me," I said. I was truly in the need of something to make me laugh. These days it's really easy for me to go either way. Come on, entertain me. So she tells me how her husband is calling her from a business trip. He is driving on some random highway in California and some other driver has got total road rage and is making very rude gestures and her husband just can't believe it. Frankly, neither can I because if you knew her husband you would know he's about 6'5 and solid as rock. You'd have to be an idiot to pick a fight with him. Anyway, she says, "This is what you do honey. You look at the guy and take your pointer finger to your temple and start twirling it around and mouth the words, You're crazy to them. While slowly shaking your head up and down." Let me point out that as much as I love her, her driving does leave something to be desired by me. I am not a road rager but some might possibly say I am an aggressive driver. I have been in the car with her when I have had to beg her to please get away from behind the school bus. We are going to slow. So, I can imagine she using the old twirly finger motion a lot. So, the good sport he is, her husband does this. He tells her, "Man, the guys getting really pissed now." She tells him, "Now it's time to go in for the kill. You have to hold your stomach and rock up and down like a huge belly laugh. It puts them over the edge." Come on, that's funny. I am going to use that the next time I am driving way to far up the exit only lane to cut in as far as I can and someone gets mad at me. Usually I just do the old pathetic face, "I'm sorry." Not next time, next time I'm going for a "You're crazy." I can't wait.

NYC and My Brother

This is my brother Mark. I have three brothers. All older. I liked it that way growing up. It was always Scott and Chris who sat together in the car and had their own private jokes and the same way about them. Mark was mine. I still consider him mine. Besides the obvious of my children and husband there is no one I would rather be with in the world than Mark. (There's a couple of you that run a close second, you know who you are and how we do it). Mark lives in New York City, which is perfect for me cause I love New York. It's nothing for me to hop in my car and go up to take a yoga class and hang with him. In fact, that's what I did yesterday. I put the kids on the bus, packed my four different bags for a 24 hour trip, jumped in my car, put on my tunes, set my coffee in the cup holder and got on my way. I was so excited to take this one class with Dharma Mittra, a yoga master . Then I was going out to dinner with another one of my favorite relatives, Marc's cousin Bryna and then see Mark. Had you thrown a massage in there somewhere it would have been almost to good to be true. So I did all that.The yoga class was probably one of my favorites that I have ever taken. I loved every second of it. Bryna and I ate really yummy sushi and caught up since the last time I saw her was in August. The only thing was when I finally got to the Mark part of my day I was a little tired and not quite feeling like myself and kind of moody. He pays no attention to this. If there is one person , well that's not fair, there's a couple, that can bring me to the surface Mark is one of them. We had some cocktails and laughed and laughed until about 2:30 in the morning. Everytime I thought we had said all there was to say, there was something else. Both of us tend to like to talk about ourselves, but we don't care. We take turns. If we lose interest we just say, "I'm not paying attention. You're boring me." It works. So thanks Mark. I had the most wonderful time with you. I feel luckier than you could ever know to have you in my life. Now comment more GD.
Mom are you lovin' my links?

A Day Into the Tan

Because Kirsten asked here is a picture a day into the tan. It settled though. I don't have one from the minute after it happened. Sorry about that. Next time. Now I don't know these girls but if you click here you can see an example of it gone really sour. Beware fake tanners, it's healthier but not always better looking.

Peer Pressure

The spray on tan. This is what I have succumbed to. Lisa made me do it. She said all the cool kids were doing it. So I decided to jump on the bandwagon. No really, we were having lunch and she was going to get one for tonights festivities which include cocktail dresses. I expressed mild interest, kind of hesitant because I did this a couple years ago and Marc begged me to never do it again. I don't think she paid any attention to my "No's" because while I was happily distractd by my sushi she was on her cell phone making me an appointment for right after her. So,what was I to do but go? It's only polite. So as I am walking in the dressing room to strip down so I can stand basically naked in front of a perfect stranger while she spray paints my body Lisa is coming out. Now Lisa was already tan so it looked good on her. I thought, "Hmmm.....doesn't look bad." I go i while the very nice lady sprays me, she is talking to me the entire time. I can just imagine Lisa must have engaged her through the whole process, being that she's the friendly one. I tried to be as nice as possible but I'm the unfriendly one. Lisa makes fun of me for it. It's not intentional, really, just most of the time my mind is somewhere else. I believe it's called spacing out. Well the sprayer lady did not notice at all, she kept telling me how to stand, where to put my arms and talking and talking and talking. Then it was over. She was very nice, I liked her, next time I'll talk more, really. So I went in to get changed. I looked in the mirror and started to laugh. I never ever tan my face, so it didn't look quite as normal on me as I thought it did on Lisa. I stared at myself thinking, "Am I an Oompa Loompa?" I just got my clothes on and got the hell out of there as quick as I could. On my way home I had to stop at the grocery store. I called Lisa, I said, "I think I look like an Oompa Loompa." I was expecting her to say, "No. Of course you don't." Instead she says, "Wait, let me look in the mirror." And then started laughing hysterically. Oh God. This is bad. She said, "It will look better tomorrow." Great, I have a bunch of stuff to do today. I put on the biggest sunglasses I had and went about my business. It looks good now. At least that's what my friends say. I'm still not sure.....

Yoga-A Non-Competetive Sport

So I am totally not allowed to mention any names, and I won't, but I love this story so much that I have to share. A friend of mine called me today laughing saying, "I've been hanging out with you to much, call me, I've got a good yoga story." So I call back, intrigued, I of all people love a good yoga story. So she tells me how at class this morning there were these two women next to her that were blatantly staring at her and basically trying to show her up. Now, yoga is not supposed to be competitive at all, and more importantly she has a kick ass practice and if these two women had half a brain between them they'd pick someone else to screw with. So I asked, "What happened?" She said, "They kept looking over and trying to one up me." I'm sorry, this is not possible because she can bang out some crazy stuff. She is also not a competitive person at all, but when backed into a corner I guess it came out a little bit. I asked if she had ever seen them before. She hadn't but she began to describe them physically. I knew right away who the one woman was. I can't stand her. One time years ago I went to a class and she was subbing for the teacher. This is the worst when this happens because you are there, you can't be rude, you have to suck it up and take the class. (Unless you're Kirsten, then you just walk out) Anyway in the class I took with her, it was me and two woman who had just started to practice. During one pose she was offering to take it further, it was obvious she was talking directly to me. I had an injury and just tried to say so, so she would leave me alone. Before I could even get it out she goes, "Shut up. Be quiet. No talking in yoga." Huh? Did she just tell me to shut up in a yoga class? I had at this point to pull a Kirsten. I looked at the clock. Tilted my head, rolled up my mat and walked the hell out. This woman has ignored me every time I have ever seen her since. Which is fine with me. This is why I was so delighted that my during the class today while they were doing backbends my friend kicked up into a split handstand and hung out there for a while. Yoga, non-compete. Remember that.

The Camera-Part two

I think one of my special gifts in life is dragging out a story for a while. Like the Halloween candy thing, but oh well, it's how I do it. So, back to case of the broken lens. Well last night I went through all my old lenses from my 35mm cameras pre-digital, thinking I could use one until I got a chance to get a new one. Guess what? None fit, that might have something to do with the fact that they were for Canons and I have a Nikon, I don't know. Originally when I got this digital camera Marc bought me the Canon but I snubbed my nose at it, stamped my foot and said, "I want the Nikon." Shortly thereafter I got shot down the bad egg shoot, but I'm fine now. Didn't faze Marc he just went back to the store and got me what I wanted and of course hooked me up with the best he could get including the protective filter cover. We all know, that's how he does it. So back to the story at hand, I take my lens in to the camera store today and say to Jared the camera guy, "Can you fix this?" He examines it for a while and says, "Well, it's only the filter that's broken." Then he said, "I don't know if I can get it off though, it's stuck." I said, "Jared, I'm thinkin' you can." Then just stood there, at this point I'm psyched. I just know good old Jared's gonna hook me up. That filter was really stuck though. He had out some tools, he put on rubber gloves. It wasn't budging. Finally he broke it. Then air sprayed out my camera and said, "There's the rim on there, but it won't effect your camera." I don't see any crying and running up the stairs as today's after school activites. Back to good.

The Broken Lens

Today I pick up my camera from my desk where I had it plugged in because I had been putting pictures on my computer. The lens was completely shattered. Bummer. Huge, big, bad word bummer. The last time I had looked it had been fine. Somewhere between then and now something had gone horribly wrong. I think I know what happened, um, a kid. Someone dropped it, by accident and hadn't quite found the time to come clean yet. Kind of like on the baseboard in the family room where there are two big chunks out and someone taped them back on. Yes, taped them. Didn't mention it, just some tape. You know what? It worked, because even though I saw it, I admired the ingenuity and decided not to mention it. This isn't going to work with my lens. I just want to know who did it and why they didn't tell me. Now if this hasn't been apparent yet, trouble is not something anyone really gets in at our house. Really, I can't even remember the last thing anyone was in trouble for, oh wait, yes, when Chase and Ethan moved the go-kart cover and broke it Marc spoke sharply for about 45 seconds. I think he might have taken them for ice cream shortly thereafter. I know even Lucy (my dog) weighs out her options when she is going to take food off the counter, we're pretty sure she's thinking to herself, "If I take this, what will anyone really do? Hmmm... basically nothing. Maybe, if anything, they will call me bad dog, but I think that's a good thing because they're always laughing when they say it." Then she snags that food. We have no fear here in our household. I think we need some. I'm not sure how to go about getting it though and I am much to busy doing handstands and explaining fractions to figure it out. Anyway, the whole point to this long winded bitchfest about my broken camera lens is, turns out Saige did it, but says she didn't realize it had shattered, which I believe. After she tells me that and I quietly say, "Ok, thank you for telling me." she runs up the stairs crying her eyes out. Chase pats my shoulder and says, "I'm really sorry that happened Mom, but at least your whole camera's not broken and you know what? I get a lot of money for my birthday. I could buy you a new one." God, they are so different. Each one has their moments of extreme sensitivity and totally losing it. Kids, who knew? Was I this tough? Mom, don't answer that if you are reading. Let's just go with, no.