Hitting the slopes

Headed out to Crested Butte to go spa-ing while Chuck goes skiing this weekend. I've got on my sexy panties in case the airport security decides to do a strip search. I want to make sure they are shocked, surprised, or impressed. Likely it will be one of the first two and not the "impressed", but it's worth a try.

Peace out kids!

There's no doubt he's a boy.

A couple weeks ago we had to gather items for Luke to use to decorate a snowman at school. Of course, I didn't find out that I had to do this until Monday morning before he needed it, so I gathered junk from around the house: pennies, cotton balls, string, ribbon, corks (I have a lot of those), some tiny clothes pins that somehow appeared in my kitchen drawers, and other random bits.

This week we saw the result of Luke's labor.


Luke explained that the snowman has a mouth (made out of ribbon), four eyes (all made out of the tiny clothes pins), two snow bombs (made out of two cotton balls), and a laser (made out of a square piece of black foam). He said, "It's an alien snowman!" He is a boy, through and through.

Movie Quote 53

I've been busy working, but here's a lovely movie quote for you wonderful people out there!

The whole world takes its time from Greenwich, but Greenwich, they say, takes its time from Admiral Boom!

This is at the beginning of the movie, so you should be able to get it, although it has nothing to do with the plot of the fantastic, award-winning movie.

Shout out

Happy Birthday to my very good friend Caroline! Wishing you all the best today and all year long!

2010 Rodeo: Trip Number 1

We went to the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo this weekend. It's right down the street from us a couple miles so we'll probably be there two or three times this year. Chuck's already been three times I think for business. It's nowhere near as big as the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo that I grew up with, but it's actually more fun to me because I see people I know there and it is slightly more intimate.

We took the kids this weekend. They dressed up in their "cowboy" clothes and hopped in the car without delay. They even decided to hold hands in the back of the car. Not sure why, but damn, it sure is cute! (And a reminder of days gone by.)




The show was sold out, but we spent several hours shopping and looking at the animals.

Luke at the Rodeo

Evie at the Rodeo

Lindsey at the Rodeo

George at the Rodeo

The kids were TOO excited. Seriously, they loved dressing up as cowboys. They really enjoyed themselves and posed for this picture like "real cowboys" or so they told me.



Here, they were eating peanut butter sandwiches while we shopped.



We also got to see Borden's Elsie.


I took a picture with my favorite Cowboy. (We look good together - except for that surprised look on Tony's face.)


We also held baby goats - precious! (except the one that was eating my hair - guess it looks like straw - I'll need to talk to my hairdresser about that.)


And we walked our feet off, dodging all the animal manure in the streets. All of us slept well that night.

Distinctive Perfume

Had my "yearly" visit this morning at Mrs. Chesapeake's office and left with the very distinctive scent of "eau de lubricant."

Girls, you know what I'm talking about . . .

There's always something

George is STILL sick with bronchitis or something. He had a fever of 103 this morning at 1:00 a.m. Poor baby. I get to take him into the doctor again this morning. Hopefully, we can get him all fixed up.

In other news, Luke made the story of the weekend (maybe the story of the whole month).

Saturday night, we put all the kids to bed directly at 8:00 p.m. because we had been graced with their hyper craziness at our house all day long because it rained all day long. This isn't usually an issue because we tend to keep pretty busy. But, with George sick, and the rainy day, we just sat around the house and tried to entertain ourselves. It got so bad that we actually did jigsaw puzzles. Pretty desperate.

Anyhow, once we got the two older kids in bed, Chuck and I focused on preping George for an uncomfortable night of coughing, fast breathing, and a low fever. I sent Chuck up to George's room to fill up the humidifier while I administered George's last doses of medicine for the evening and let him get a little more juice in his little body. As Chuck was passing by the kid's bathroom on his way to fill the humidifier, Chuck saw Luke examining the potty. He glanced up at Chuck and said, "Hi Dad! I was just going poop." He pointed toward the toilet. Chuck sighed (remember we'd been holed up with these kids all day long and although we love them, they just had worn us out), "That's fine Luke. Wipe your bottom, flush the toilet, wash your hands, and go to bed." One would think that we wouldn't have to continue to remind our almost-six-year-old of each step, but apparently we do. When Chuck passed by after filling the humidifier, Luke was still standing there in all his glory with his pants down. He smiled up at Chuck. Chuck impatiently said, "Luke, get your pants up, wash your hands and get to bed!" Luke, "But Dad, look!" Chuck, "What?" Luke smiled and was half laughing as he said, "Look Dad, I'm a chicken!" Chuck looked at him in confusion, "What?" Luke began to slowly rotate (remember his pants were around his ankles), and as his little tiny boy butt came into view, Luke pointed at his rear end where a rather large tuft of toiletpaper was wedged and sticking out from between his butt cheeks. "See? I'm a chicken!" And he waived his "tail feathers" about just slightly as he laughed. Chuck had to hold in the laughter and sternly said, "Luke. That's enough. Now get to bed." Then, Chuck raced downstairs and recited this story to me after prefacing it with, "That is something I never thought I'd ever hear my kid say." We've been laughing about it all weekend.

I truly wish I had a picture of it, but let's face it, it's already cruel enough that I am posting the story on the internet for the world to read. We certainly don't need a picture to go with it.

"Humps"

Last night the kids and I huddled up at home together. George is miserably sick. He has bronchitis, but it sounded bad enough that Dr. M. took an x-ray of his chest to confirm that there was no pneumonia. Luckily, it was just bronchitis. But, he is running a hefty fever and just isn't himself. He even fell asleep on my chest - and he never does that. Poor, sweet baby.



While I cuddled George, we all watched Ariel's Beginning - a surprisingly good movie for a sequel. As we were watching, Luke looked at me seriously and said, "Mom, those are mermaids. And, and, the difference between a mermaid and a human is, is that mermaids have, um, shells on their humps and. . . and . . . and a fish tail instead of legs." I was patiently listening to his lesson on mermaids, but I got lost when he mentioned shells on their humps. I wasn't really sure what he was talking about, but when I saw him motion to the "humps" where the shells were, I figured it out and had to bite my tongue with laughter.



He is right. I can't argue with him.

Kisses

In our house, the kids fight over playing games on our iPhones. (Are they spoiled? Yes, let's get over it.) So, last night I set the timer on my phone so that each kid could play for five minutes on my games (I have the best games because I'm a great Mom, while Chuck's phone is clearly not as fun as mine). When the timer ended on Evie's turn she got a little whiny and huffed. As usual, I told her "tough it out" and Chuck looked at her from the other couch and said in a resigned voice, "Evie, come here. I've got something for you." She started to get up to go to him and see what he had, but she stopped in mid step, put her hands on her hips, cocked her head to the side, narrowed her eyes, and in her best thirteen-year-old-I-know-everything-and-I'm-indignant-that-you-think-I-don't voice, she said with a bit of disgust and a curl to her lip, "Is it kisses?" She was so put out to think that all she was going to get when she got over to him was kisses. (We're obviously maturing to the point where kisses are not something she's looking forward to anymore. In fact, she only kisses on the cheek now. No kisses on the lips.) So, even though Chuck, Lindsey, and I laughed, Chuck continued, "Just come here." Still skeptical, Evie went over to him. He said, "Closer . . ." She stopped a foot away from the couch. Chuck urged, "Closer . . ." She moved up to stand in front of him and he scooped her up and covered her with kisses.




Yes, Evie, it was just kisses! And wasn't it fun? I don't know why she doesn't trust this face.



Luke wanted a turn too.



So he jumped in with them.

Nothing like having your sister's butt in your face.

Pictures

This morning, I had to:

1. get George to give back the pill bottles he found,


2. take a "cute" picture of Luke at his request (he posed for this), and


3. try to find my daughter in her bed.


This weekend, we also went out to the Italian Inn. It is an old local restaurant where the wait staff sings. It is so fun, but hardly ever crowded. One of my college friends got engaged there. We always have a good time, but as you can see, Lindsey was not impressed.





Luke is a ham. He loves to have his picture taken and then look at it. Anytime I have the camera out, he wants his picture taken. So when I went to take a picture of George . . .


He ran up to have his picture taken too . . .

-2.4

Total: -4.2

Too busy working to post. Can you believe it?

Proposal

Evie proposed.

I was in awe.

Then I was laughing.

Then I was tickled.

No, lie. That's how it all happened. Evie presented the jewelry box to me with all seriousness, and I had no idea what was inside. I actually thought it was empty or had a penny in it or a lego. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to find a ring perfectly nestled inside. Nor did I expect that the force would be so strong with this one.

I really wish I could suck my thighs in.

13 Months!

First, let me tell you Luke's fight was apparently real. Poor kid.

Second, George had his one year check up (one month late) today and he's healthy as an ox. He weighs as much as a typical two-year old, but has the height of an 18-month old. He's my little big man. And he is precious!

The First School Fight

Luke explained to me this morning about how he got in a fight yesterday at school. I was baffled that it hadn't come up last night when I got home, so the shock on my face was evident this morning as I asked him questions. I'm still not sure what the real story is, because some of it seems a little contradictory and suspicious. It started when I noticed a sore looking red spot on the tip of Luke's finger. I asked him how he got it. He responded, "Oh, I got in a fight."

The injury didn't look like the result of a fight so I asked, "What do you mean by, "you got in a fight?"

Luke calmly explained, "Yesterday, my friend Matthew was playing with his friend Judd, but then Matthew wanted to play with me so Judd got mad and I got in a fight with Judd."

Me, "WHAAAT?! You got in a fight?"

Luke nodded his head solemnly.

Me, "Yesterday?!"

Luke nodded again.

Me, "Hold on. Tell me again what happened."

Luke, "I got in a fight with Matthew's friend Judd. Judd put rocks in my mouth . . ." [My mouth fell open] " . . . I climbed up on the monkey bars to get away, but he pulled me down and I landed in the rocks and that is how I hurt my finger." Luke held up his finger and showed me a raw little red spot right on the tip. I squinted as I examined the war wound. It didn't look like it came from falling in the rocks or getting in a fight, but who knows with little kids.

Still in shock, I asked, "Well, what did you do?" The practical part of me was hoping that he didn't fight back, and the other part of me was hoping that he defended himself. Honestly, all I could think was, "God, I hope my kid isn't a wuss."

Luke paused, "I tried to get away, but he kept chasing me."

Me, "That's probably the right thing to do." I relaxed, thinking it was the end of the story.

Luke continued, "Then, Judd punched me." Luke put his left hand up to his left cheek to demonstrate where he had received the punch.

I tensed up again at the thought of someone hitting my little boy. (Notice how he is my "little boy" now and not my "cranky-ass child"). I said, "He punched you?!"

Luke nodded his head and said, "Yeah. We put on a show."

I relaxed again, cocked my head to the side in annoyance, squinted my mom-eyes, and said, "It was a show? As in, it was all pretend?"

Luke, "Yeah mom."

Me, "Ughh. Good heavens. Let's finish getting ready for school."

Here you can see that he is truly unharmed. But he does still have a tender red spot on the tip of his finger, but I have no idea where it came from.


He's obsessed with Kidz Bop. Loves the stuff.

-1.8

Ah, sleep.

I got EIGHT consecutive hours of sleep last night! Yes, this is a miracle in my house. Chuck and I retired to bed around 9:40. I washed my face, etc., and fell asleep promptly at 10:00 p.m. I didn't wake up until 6 a.m. this morning. I was supposed to get up at 5 a.m. to work out (I haven't been very good the past few days), but I didn't even hear my alarm clock, although I must have turned it off somehow. I seriously love sleep!

Luke got about 10 hours of sleep last night - also a miracle. He refused to pick up his toys last night because he said he was too tired. I argued with him from about 6:15 to 7:00 (which is ridiculous), but when I found him laying on the couch after multiple threats, I finally just sent him to bed. He cried his pissed-off little head off for about 45 minutes, but he ended up falling asleep and woke up in a GREAT mood this morning - although still mad at his mother for sending him to bed. It was a little weird having Evie and George up by themselves without Luke around, but Luke really needed the sleep.

Hope you all slept as well as we did!

Balloon

Evie and Luke got balloons from the restaurant where we ate lunch yesterday. Evie wore hers around her wrist ALL DAY LONG until I took it off when we put her to bed. I think the balloon was definitely fully enjoyed. Even George had fun playing with her balloon in the car. She had to fight him to get it back.



Look at that precious boy - he's getting two new teeth right now! Lots of drool and whining, but it's hard to be frustrated with that cute face!

Allergies

Evie piped up this morning and said, "Mom, I'm allergic to . . . boys."

I chuckled and said, "Oh really?"

Evie, "Mom. Are you allergic to boys?"

Me, "I don't think so, but that's an interesting concept."

Evie, "You're allergic to cats, right?"

Me, "Right."

Evie, "You're not allergic to boys."

Me, "Well, I guess that would explain a lot if I was . . ."

Cowboys freaking Rock!!!! I'll have to make sure I wear all the same clothes next week!

It's Not From My Side of the Family

It's fucking cold outside. Cold enough to warrant the use of the word "fucking".


On another note, Luke insists that he can do P90X and he asked me to put the video in so he could exercise last night. I said, "No, that's for adults." Luke, "No, Mom. I can do it." Me, "Oh, really? How do you know?" Luke, "When Lindsey did it she did push ups with her feet on a chair and I can do that. Come watch me. I'll show you." Amused, I waited patiently while he dragged in a chair from the other room and got set. Before he could do anything though, he had to put on his headband. (I got this headband with a Cowboys star on it, as a joke from Mrs. Chesapeake for my birthday. I love to goof around with it, but Luke wears it with all seriousness.)


All set with his headband, Luke put his feet up and very impressively executed the push ups in true P90X fashion. I was very impressed.

He hopped up after I praised his push ups and said, "See mom! Now you try it." I groaned, "Do I have to?" Luke, "Yeah, Mom. You try it. Just like I did it." I took a deep breath. I had actually done these push ups with P90X three days before and I was still sore, but I couldn't deny his cuteness. I gradually lowered my sore body down to the ground and propped my feet up on the chair. I tried one push up and collapsed. I gathered myself together and said cheerfully, "Nope, Luke, Mommy can't do it. Sorry." And that was that. I hope he stays that athletic - clearly he didn't get his athleticism from me.

Heading down to the gym to see my trainer. Ugh! Y'all have a good night.

Sad

At a funeral for a funny guy today. Heaven bless him.

They played bagpipes at the church and Taps at the burial.

Stunning each time.
Tightened my chest and sucked the breath right out of me.

Settle this Debate

Need some help from all of you out there regarding an ongoing debate I have with Chuck. Many moons ago (I don't know how many), Chuck was eating a lot of carrots and complained about it. I suggested that he dip his carrots in peanut butter to give himself some variety. Chuck's face contorted into a look of horror and disgust as he asked, "Peanut butter?! That's disgusting!" I looked bewildered. Me, "No it's not. Kids eat it all the time." Chuck, "In what horribly deranged world do kids eat peanut butter and carrots?" I was still baffled, "Um, this world. Haven't you ever heard of kids eating carrots and peanut butter? Sometimes they put raisins along the top and call it ants on a log." I paused as my mind began to think, and then I continued, "Well, I know that they do that with celery and call it ants on a log. I'm not sure about carrots. But I'm sure that people eat carrots and peanut butter." Chuck continued to give me a look of dismay and disgust. I continued, "They serve ants on a log at pre-schools across the country. How could you have not heard of this?"

Chuck and I continue to debate this topic because he can't imagine the combination of carrots and peanut butter, and then just the other day, he renounced any concept of ants on a log (carrot or celery varieties alike).



So, all of you out there, please register your vote as to whether you've ever eaten or heard of carrots and peanut butter or the delightful childhood snack called ants on a log.

I would really enjoy a three-day work week. Anyone else?

It's a 12-Step Program, right? *UPDATED*

Today I am going to attend my first AA meeting for fat people. Yes, I'm joining weight watchers - WW. Yes, it is embarrassing. But, yes, it is time. I'm going to stand up at the meeting and say, "Hi. My name is Theresa and I'm fat." All the other fat people will clap for me and say hi. No, they don't actually do that at WW meetings, but I know I'm going to feel that conspicuous. I'm sure I'll be trying to sneak in the door keeping my head down so that no one sees me. I picture myself slouching my way up to the person in charge of the meeting where she will ask to get my weight. The scale will groan with protest as I climb on it to find out just how much of a fat ass I am. And I will probably cry just a little until I realize that I had a lot of fun putting all those pounds on in the last year, and then I will just accept it and focus on what lies ahead. Today is day number 1.

You all better help me through this.

**UPDATE**Well, thanks to all of you for your kind words, but I'm bigger than I've EVER been (except when pregnant) and I need to get back into all the nice clothes I spent money on. I'm going to do it! I went to the meeting today downtown and it was . . . [pause] . . . okay. I felt a bit like a kindergartner. There was actually a woman with a flippy easel paper thingy with a drawing of a woman with a person on her shoulder on it. She asked us somewhat condescendingly, "What do you think this picture means?" I almost turned looked over my shoulder to see if there was a group of five-year-old kids in the room, but when I realized she was looking at me, I raised my eyebrows and thought, "Oh. My. God. What the hell have I gotten into?" To top it off, the meeting was in the basement of an old church building (no complaints there), but the smell reminded me of my pre-school days in an old church building - a combination of mustiness and stale coffee. Really, it was fine, and I got my weight recorded. They have these clever little scales that only allow the person behind the desk to see your weight. And praise Jesus, they don't announce your weight to the crowd or proudly proclaim, "Geez, girl, you lost two pounds - only 50 more to go!" Nope, that part was rather comforting because it is all hush, hush. I'll keep y'all posted. In conjunction I'm starting P90X - which is just plain ridiculous, but I'm going to give it a go. Lindsey is doing that with me. Should be interesting. Y'all keep pushing me and holding me accountable. My goal is to look good for the beach on Memorial Day!

Disgusting Smorgasbord

Can anyone explain why dogs enjoy devouring baby diapers filled with poop? Chuck accidentally left a treat-filled diaper in a bag in the kitchen last night (yes, that's disgusting on its own), but then the dog apparently smelled out the treat, pulled it off the counter, ripped open the bag, ripped into the diaper, and made a smorgasbord of the contents. I only gagged a little when I opened the kitchen door this morning to find bits of diaper and dots of baby poop spread about. Instead I was pissed off at the "Fucking Dog" as she is otherwise known. I spent the next twenty minutes trying to contain my seething urge to kick the dog while I picked up each nasty piece of shredded diaper and smashed poop and then disinfected the kitchen floor. Disgusting!

Make Believe Death

Luke and Evie have always played pretend and it is always really funny to listen to what they've decided to play because it is always somewhat out there. For a while they would always play that Evie was Luke's dog. It got pretty out of hand because they would play it ANYWHERE. At the store, they would ride around in the cart and Luke would say, "Dog! Sit down!" Evie would sit down on her "haunches" and say "Ruff!" And people would stare and give me funny looks. Then I began to question whether I was making a huge mistake letting this continue. At first I would just sigh and sort of accept that they were using their imagination, but the kids stopped playing anything other than "dog" and Chuck and I started to get concerned about Evie's self esteem. Seriously, it can't be good for her to be constantly referred to as a dog, but she really seemed to enjoy it. So, we insisted that they take turns being the dog so that Evie wasn't always the dog - not only was Evie disappointed that she couldn't be the dog, but now I had misgivings about turning both my kids into dogs. (Not our first parental misstep, and surely not our last). Eventually we tried to put the kibosh on the "dog" game but it still comes up every once in a while. We just hope the "dog" aspect hasn't permanently damaged Evie.

More recently, Chuck and I have become only somewhat disturbed to overhear that that Evie and Luke are playing games in which someone is always dead. For example, they were playing house with one of their friends at Christmas and they assigned the roles as follows: "Luke is the brother, Evie is the mom, Savannah is the dog (yes, the dog again), and the dad is dead." I raised my eyebrows but let it go. But similar role playing continued and we noticed that someone was always dead. I know you all are very disturbed and worried about where my innocent children are coming up with this death stuff, but really it doesn't seem that out of line. Just think about 90% of the Disney movies out there -- Someone always dies.

• Cinderella: Cinderella's dad dies
• Finding Nemo: Nemo's mom eaten
  
• Snow White: Snow White's dad dies and Snow White practically dies too
• Lion King: Simba's dad killed by his brother
  
• Bambi: Bambi's mom shot
  
• Fox and the Hound: Fox's mom shot
• The Little Mermaid: Ariel's mom dies (see Ariel's Beginning)

So, I'm just sayin' - yeah, it's a little weird that people are dying in their world of make believe, but it isn't that weird. Do you think we should be concerned?

What a weekend!

Happy New Year, Baby!

We're settling into the new year gradually. Today is the first day back at work. Luke starts back to school tomorrow, and Evie goes back Wednesday. We had a wonderful holiday season, but it is time to get focused on what we're going to do in the new year.

Chuck and I spent New Year's Eve at home - Champagne Thursday and New Year's Eve coincided making it the perfect storm. (Luke took this picture.)

Lindsey and her sister Tanya decided to ring in the new year at Billy Bob's Texas - the largest honky tonk. I think they had a really good time and Tanya got to see lots of two-stepping and cowboy hats.


We went bowling the next evening after a day spent lounging on the couch. The kids LOVED it! They had so much fun! I can't wait to do this again.







The next day, George started walking in earnest. Instead of being prodded to take a couple steps here and there, he started walking places on his own and he's getting braver with each step! So fun to watch!


We headed over to Wayne and Caroline's house for some fantastic cheese, meat, fondu, and other assorted yummy items. They are seriously amazing cooks! (Diet starts monday).

While we were there, Luke and Evie turned into the next Partridge Family. I had no idea this was in my future!


Yesterday, I took the Tanya and Lindsey to the Galleria. We had lunch and did some shopping and it was so fun. I think they were impressed with the size of the mall and all the shops that were there, but I also think they were shopped out by the time we got there since Tanya spent most of her week shopping in Fort Worth malls. We ate at the Grand Lux Cafe, which is owned by The Cheesecake Factory. It was delicious and the restaurant was gorgeous, but there was just too much on the menu to choose from. We spent probably 15 or 20 minutes just trying to decide what to eat!




So, that's that. I'm back at work today and ready to tackle a new year!