Ready, set...oh

I’ve adjusted the desk chair a few times searching for ergonomic perfection. I should get myself a glass of water in case I get thirsty, but then I might have to take too many bathroom breaks, and that would certainly be distracting…don’t want to get distracted.

I could use the iPad to type on, if I knew how to do such a thing. I think I recall being told I’d need to buy a word processing app, but the descriptions were a little hazy, so I panicked. Somebody told me that google documents was a cool thing to use. I did a test run with saving a mock document on the google thing, but wondered where those words were going to go when I am sleeping. I don’t need just anybody on the interwebs reading my stories before their time. Other people might not care like you do.

In a moment of pure frustration, well not so pure as it was tainted with a dash of panic, I headed for the computer. Since I was there, I figured I should check emails and look for blog updates, even though I had done so two hours ago. Who knows what my friends in the blog world might’ve talked about in my absence. What if they are sitting at their computers doing some procrastinating of their own, just hoping somebody comments on a post they have written? How can I let them down?

It is such a lovely time of day when the sun comes in my windows. Of course it would be even more lovely if there were less streaks clouding my vision. Maybe I should grab some Windex and clean that up. There is probably going to be some glare on the computer screen in a few minutes. Let me just close those drapes and solve both problems.

My back really is hurting. I wonder if it’s from all of the slouching. There is a hump forming on my back from all of the years of hunching. Sometimes I think the shock of standing up straight too often makes it protest as well.

There is really something to be said about procrastination. There’s almost an art to it. The whole business of trying to actually look like one is attending to something more pressing can be tricky. For example, I just realized that I have laundry in both machines waiting for the grand rotation. That’s kind of important. Hmmm, I should probably go deal with that, but knowing that I will not be able to convince myself to sit back down again? Too risky.

I guess I have nowhere left to run, but wait, is that the Daily Show I hear in the background? Is my husband watching that without me? I feel like we really connect sometimes when we watch that show together. We manage adult conversations about topics they bring up. It also serves as pretty much my only news source. Now if I miss this quality time for us, I will feel guilty if I pass out watching some other random show later.

“Are you watching the Daily Show in there?”

“Nope.”

Oh…

I guess it’s the getting started that’s tricky. Sure there’s always a beginning, but when you really sit back and think of where that is, it isn’t so easy to find. I can always fix it later. I should really just start, shouldn’t I? It’s not really the business of starting that makes me anxious, but rather knowing that once I start, I will not find peace until I finish.

I truly enjoyed Yeah Write last week, so I am joining in again.

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Voting starts on Thursday.

Rethinking the Random

Let's just get right to it this week! Not only was my obsession with limited edition creepy monkeys called into question awhile back, but now my wandering eye for holiday kitty magic spotted some competition for that which I thought could not be surpassed.

Take that "First Ever Kitten Angel Illuminated Tree", as this is the first ever Caroling Kitten Tree! I had no idea this was the twenty-ninth anniversary of the Jingle Cats Christmas album. At least now I know what has been missing from my life. Decisions, decisions.

You have been subjected to some minor rumblings about my attempts to exercise. Here is something I had not considered...

Photo courtesy of my daughter...so artsy with the angle.

Putting the fun back in fitness sounds fabulous, but I am almost certain that I would be laughing too hard to make my time at the academy well spent.

I was minding my own business clipping coupons when my cleaning logic was called into question...

If I am to understand this ad correctly, I should use similar supplies to wipe myself as I do to clean my car? Nature calls, so get the garden hose and a giant sponge! Unless you do use bowling balls to clean your car? I find no logic to this ad.

Speaking of toilets and logic, here ya go...

Apparently you don't want to mess around with a guy who wants to build a convenience store in Potsdam, NY. Rumor has it that this was his retaliation when he was turned down. Don't let the flower filled commodes and tubs distract you from the 'wears on the clothesline! Sure I took nearly 300 lovely shots of our time in the Adirondacks, but that's not what you're here for today.

That ought to do it for me with the random this week! We are back on the grid, but my brain has been slow to follow.

W.O.W. (Wow On Wednesday)

OK, that title might be a little misleading, as this is actually just my Random Tuesday post a day late, so I was trying to think of a new name for it. Then again, there could be a wow factor to some of these items. I mean, that is a pretty big french fry Dora has there...

...and another excuse to show off my fine china.

Can you imagine how nervous my husband is with our cereal supply so low? (Click here to see what we had in stock in June.)

I thought I was actually going to get some shelf space back, but he has already gone out and bought two boxes of Kashi since this photo was taken.

Do you see what my son is doing here?

He is feeling a Lego minifigure package...(sniff)...so proud. No, we did not go through that entire display looking for Mr. Gold, but we did find the paintball guy that some younger kids and their mom were looking for.

Despite the colors, flavors, and sport variety, I am sticking with Burt's Bees!

 So I tried this the other day...

My daughter and I didn't think you could really taste the bacon. Let me repeat that for you...I did not think there was enough BACON flavor in my FROZEN YOGURT. Really? What kind of culinary party in my mouth am I trying to throw, and who did I invite? I was so relieved today to find that the toasted marshmallow tasted as I would have hoped. Do you like the organization of my dish?

My daughter and I took advantage of the much cooler temperatures and went blueberry picking today. Look at the feast this guy was having...

WOW?

Not quite prepared, but almost ready

I could pretend that my husband did not give me enough advance notice that he needed a date for a business dinner. However, that would force me to admit that I cannot grasp the concept of an annual event. No guarantee can be made that I would have used the additional preparation time wisely by bettering my posture or honing a new skill. The last time I felt like I had any sense of how to apply makeup was in the mid-eighties. That is not to say that my heavily black-lined eyelids, purple frost eye shadow and other brush strokes of completely unnatural colors looked fabulous, but my excuse was merely being a teenager. I never received any follow-up memos regarding what a presentable and stylish application of makeup entailed.

I assembled some supplies it seemed one needed to prepare for an evening of socializing with adults. My newly purchased dress was taken out of the rumpled ball I had left laying in the shopping bag, yet there was not a wrinkle to be seen. I was in love. As I glanced in the bathroom mirror, I was thankful for the color my sunburn had faded to, as I decided that the foundation bottle, with its ever-present threat of poorly blended lines, would not be necessary. I was slightly disappointed that my hair looked to be on wash twenty-six of a “washes out in twenty-eight washes” hair color cycle. The loose ponytail seemed like a possible hairstyle option to help combat any ill effects of the humidity in our area. However, on my head, with my beautician skills, that would have translated into just plain messy and deemed my mane a complete failure. I was, after all, trying to give the illusion that some effort had been made.

The mere fact that the dress required no ironing boosted its ratings and it was not terribly ill fitting. Suffice to say, I had spent thirty dollars on my new threads and I looked like about thirty bucks. I grabbed some lovely jewelry to accessorize, or at least use as a distraction. I have been known to let the success of my outfit rest on one spectacular bracelet. My standard black flats looked new and ready to go, just like in 2005 when I bought them. I made a mental note to consider the possibility that shoe styles have changed. The condition of my legs provided a much-needed distraction from the footwear. Perhaps I was going to need to get that beige cover-up after all to blend away some of the bruises and veins. Not enough time, nor product, was available for that project.

My husband came upstairs to share the bathroom mirror as he got himself ready to go. I was in the midst of pretending to concentrate very heavily on my mascara wand artistry. I felt myself tensing up at his complete disregard for the masterpiece I was nearly finished creating. Considering I had been upstairs barely twenty minutes, I realized my expectations were a little misguided.

Reality whispered a little something in my ear, as I headed downstairs to leave. The room full of people I did not know was not waiting to audition me, nor was my husband of nearly eighteen years. I smiled and reminded myself that there is only one place I should not be taken, and that is too seriously.

I am excited to be trying something new this week, and am dipping my toe in the Yeah Write challenge pool. Click the badge below to read some amazing entries.

 

Perhaps the day has come...

We were wandering through a fun little store in Orleans, during our annual Cape Cod vacation, when I happened upon some products from Curly Girl Design. I knew I could not walk away empty handed, but was overwhelmed with the selection of things I loved. In the end, I kept my decision simple to what spoke the most and loudest to me. This is the greeting card I chose...

This hangs on the corkboard in our back hall, and makes me smile every time I pass by. However, this week I started to feel as though the time had come for me to sign the card and work on my trapeze skills. If I hadn't paused to consider the high temperatures in those big tents, or the sweat I would break into merely packing my bag, I'd have been googling the contact information for Barnum and Bailey.

The heat certainly plays a role in my tolerance level, so maybe if these conversations had taken place in cooler climates, I would be more impressed. Let's start with the dog...
Foz: grrrrrr
Me: Do you want to go outside? (Opening door)
Foz: grrrrr
Me: Do you need water?
Foz: grrrrr (hides under table while continuing to grumble)
While this offense seems minor, let's keep in mind that I have to pick up his poop. Plus, it was so hot out yesterday afternoon that he tried to limit his walk to the edge of the driveway, then proceeded to walk down the street and back while forgetting to do his business. Then, on our second attempt, the dog who thought it was too hot to get to the street, dragged me all the way around the block. He is sleeping next to me now yelping away in his dreams.

How about the texts from my son the other night? He had ridden his bike to a friend's house, about a mile away, to go swimming. I had this crazy notion that he would figure out that he should be home by dark. At 9:02 I texted to say "hello?" The response time of ten minutes didn't seem bad. Then there was this...
Me: Time to head home...careful in the dark. (9:14)
Him: Hold on! (9:14)
Him: Can I have until 9:30? (9:18)
I sat and thought about this for a few minutes, as I could not figure out how he was going to get home any sooner than that.
Me: So you will be home in twelve minutes? (9:18)
Him: I'm drying off now (9:24)
I don't know exactly what time he came through the door, but it was accompanied by the announcement that he had eaten at least twenty bugs riding home. I did not feel compelled to discuss the possibility that he seemed to think he could beam himself from one place to another. Plus, I was still pondering a communication with his father from earlier in the evening.

I requested that the husband pick up the daughter from basketball on his way home from work, after asking for several promises and reassurances that he would be there by 6:00. At 6:03 a text came from my daughter asking if her father was there. (Yes, somehow this was still MY responsibility.) I told her he was supposed to be. I tried calling him twice, while also texting my daughter some reassurances. At 6:05 the husband called...
Me: Are you at the school?
Him: Yes.
Me: Do you have her?
Him: Yeah, it just took a few extra minutes because I have a rental car.
When they got home...
Me: While you may have had a different car, our daughter still looked the same.You could have yelled to her.
Him: I was kind of far away and she was hanging around near the door.
Me: Yes, exactly like she should, as opposed to wandering into the parking lot and then realizing she doesn't see her ride.
It is such a shame there wasn't some way they could have talked directly to each other or sent messages through phones or something.

In the event that I thought just everyone else was misbehaving, I was given a loud and clear message that I was not doing much right. I realized that my daughter did not seem to have many shorts in her rotation for basketball camp, so I inquired as to how many pairs she was actually wearing.
Her: One
Me: I thought you wore the blue pair?
Her: They don't fit.
Me: Weren't you wearing them two weeks ago?
Her: Yes.
Me: And now they don't fit?
Her: Right...(accompanied by the glare that made me realize I had already asked one question too many.)
I grabbed a pair of nearly identical shorts from her brother's stash, and figured we were ready for morning. I am an idiot.
(15 minutes before departure time for day three of camp.)
Her: Do we have any of those dri-fit shirts? (She is dressed, mind you)
Me: Yes, there is that green Nike one, want me to go grab it?
Her: No.
Me: Why?
Her: ...
Me: You won't wear it? Oh, because it doesn't say anything on it?
Her: Right.
Me: Your brother has some.
Her: ...
She went upstairs and came back down in a larger, darker and thicker tshirt than what she had on three minutes earlier. It could have, and should have perhaps, ended here, but I was not interested in the suggestion that I had left her ill-prepared to go run around a gymnasium with several like-minded girls. I did what any irrational mother would do, and requested her presence upstairs with me. I pulled the first (never worn) dri-fit Nike t-shirt, complete with catchy phrase out of HER closet.
Her: v-neck
Me: You can't wear those?
Her: Not for this.
(Seriously? This? This being basketball camp?) I pulled out a second.
Her: ...
I pulled out a third, but saw that it was a v-neck again, checked the other four not plain fronted Nike shirts, but they were not dri-fit. I don't really remember what stupidity rolled off my tongue before I wandered out of her room, mumbling to myself.

I suppose I am really just a top hat and fancy striped pants away from running my own circus. It may not always appear to be the "greatest show on earth", but it's all mine. Cotton candy anyone?

Roasting the random

It is 92 degrees here and I just saw somebody jog by. They weren't even being chased! Clearly deranged, as I am nearly crying at the thought of walking to my car in the driveway thirty minutes from now. Oh my gosh, I just realized it was almost time to walk the dog too. Dammit, why didn't I see that jogger in time to send Fozzie along? He has barely recovered from his trip to the groomer this morning, so I am sure a good run would do him in good. He got his teeth brushed, but refuses to smile so we can show you guys. Instead, here is a picture of his friend, Molly, the last time they went to the spa together...

Sure, spiders spin silky thread, but what kind of badass arachnid do I have living on my front porch who created this?

Here is a valuable public service announcement from my son...Beware the dangers of spinning your ipod earphones very quickly near your face...

Anybody looking for Alex?

Don't worry if you don't have the shape pan you want for a cake. In fact, don't worry if you don't have the time to decorate individual cupcakes either. There isn't even any reason to consider the word appetizing...

I'm kind of sleepy too...

Remember that time I went out to a dinner with my husband? Well, he has invited me again this year. Seems like a lot of pressure to put on that same bracelet to carry me through...

Visit Stacy, but it's hot over there. consider yourself warned!

Randomly delayed

First of all, if I do not manage to kill this fly that has been taunting me since yesterday, I might lose my mind! Mr. Miyagi, please bring me my chopsticks.

In other stories related to losing my mind, we hosted dinner last night for five of my husband's coworkers from out of town. I had never met any of them, but had certainly let the prospect of being intimidated get the best of me. I wanted to serve them some food from our lovely area because without a theme of some sort, I am apparently unable to function. Sure the husband told me not to worry, but he never worries so why would I choose this time to believe him? I tried to be classy, and put out our crystal with the Finger Lakes wine. Maybe it worked in my favor that I accidentally used the larger water glasses, instead of the wine goblets. The first three people to show up were very friendly and also very young. I felt slightly more at ease. When I answered the door to greet the last group, youth was on display again, as well as a twenty-four ounce can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a six-pack of beer. Perhaps my husband could've mentioned that we would be the town elders at that meal. The stress was completely gone by the time I wowed them with dessert...

This photo is a dramatic re-enactment. The six teens at my house were not terribly impressed.

This crowd was good for my ego. I wonder if they could come back tonight...wait, no they are all going out to eat tonight, including my husband. Does anybody else see anything wrong with this? I am trying to phone in my to-go order!

I took my son to the Department of Motor Vehicles this morning for his learner's permit. He did one last online test right before we left...

Perhaps it will surprise none of you that my thirteen year old daughter passed the online test twice without ever looking at the study book. Talk about teaching your kids how to weed out the incorrect multiple choice options. I love the following choices (my son got this one wrong...did you?)...

As far as our actual visit to the DMV? Priceless! I love how everybody has to go there, no matter who you are or what you do. Nobody is special in those four walls. The fashion show alone was worth the trip. The signs all over the place regarding no photos were absolutely heartbreaking! The outfits, the tattoos...After watching a couple trying to plead some case at a nearby window, they were basically told they couldn't be helped with the information they had. The couple then wandered over to the counter and chatted for a moment before getting in line again. I am not sure what part of their story they changed, but they did not manage to get past the lady who gives out the first number. As far as our mission was concerned...

Here is another one of today's local traffic related news headlines...(here is the link if you are intrigued)

I was still struggling with the appropriateness of that ice cream truck name, when I read further down in the article that this was the same man who was the subject of a spat with a “Sno Cone Joe” ice cream truck. Just when I thought Skippy was a little shady.

The only thing missing from our s'mores the other night was that "snap" of a Hershey bar. We probably didn't really even have to toast the marshmallows!

Wow, I have been in here typing for a little while now with no sounds from the kitchen, or at least none that rise above the FIFA ps3 game going on in the basement. My name was just called. I can't believe I am being invited into the kitchen...
 





Best to smile, eat the east frightening creation,

and walk away. I hear them talking about dishcloths and sponges now...phew!

Whoops!

Let's not cry over spilled milk...

...or a gallon of milk that dove the wrong way off the conveyor belt.

Let's just say that I am tired and wish to post a more well-rested random tomorrow. Please note: This is no indication that you should raise your expectations.

Sweet 16

They say age is only a number, and since I don't see any letters jamming up the works, I suppose they are right. Birthdays celebrate those numbers and mark the passage of time. As a mother, I have greeted each one of my children's birthdays with a smile, a tear and a moment to reflect, whether the number seemed significant to anyone else or not. This one though? Today?
This number is one that even some other people recognize as a moment to pause. Those hands that clutched Matchbox cars will soon seek larger wheels. Those cool metallic colors will be set aside for two potentially uncool minivans. There is enough little boy left in our son to make the number sixteen seem acceptable...

...but the fact that he is now only two years away from eighteen and high school graduation is what stops me cold. I am so excited and curious to see this young man he is becoming, but for once in my life I am willing to be patient. I am content to watch his journey, cheering and butting in as I see fit. (And making him pose for photos, of course.)

In the video taken minutes after this boy was born, I can be heard saying "Is he okay? Am I okay?" I don't think there has been a single day in the past sixteen years when that same thought has not run through my mind. Think about any job you've had and the training process that has accompanied it. Didn't you feel like you made progress as the days went by, until you ultimately knew what you were doing? I keep wondering if my skill set for this motherhood gig will ever feel complete, or even satisfactory, someday. I remember my friend, Julie, telling me once that we are always an expert at the stage our children have just outgrown. That pretty much sums things up nicely.

I remember thinking all I was going to have to do to be a good mother was love my kids.

Naive, sleep deprived woman

The days when I let myself believe it is that simple, I am doing an incredible job!

Happy Fourth of July!

Random remnants

Look at who all of those random flowers from last week attracted...

Just in case things gets slow again this week, I made sure to have more...

In the event that you have come down from yesterday's sugar high, and need a little pick me up, I found one more secret stash in my bedroom closet. See that gold box?

Oh yes, those are caramel cashew turtles from Christmas. If things have gotten bad enough for a girl to hide in her closet, she deserves a decent snack while she's in there.

More treats needed? I stopped worrying about whether the icing was hardening on the cookies when I found out how well it had set on the counter.

 Help! I'm seeing stars!!!

Your heart is bleeding, I know.

Take a moment to be dazzled by this swirly pattern, then see if you can remember what it might be from.

My friend went to Florida, and all I got was this lousy airport picture...

Wait a second, that may be the finest souvenir ever! The red jacket with the dress shirt hanging out the back is awesome, but those are reportedly denim bike shorts on the bottom half. Like jeggings, but shorts. First class all the way!
 
You look at this, while I go see if I can find out what is calling my name from the freezer!

 Very difficult to concentrate with that racket.

 More random over at Stacy's place!