Under the Night Sky

It's how it feels right now, sitting in my house looking outside. This Central Texas storm is so fully blocking the sunlight this mid-afternoon. When the clouds first crept in my inner voice whispered that it must be closing in on bedtime.

I've always loved a dramatic storm...full of thunder, lightning, and Noah-worthy rains. As a teenager I'd run out to my car during a storm, sit inside it listening to that Black Sabbath song, you know, the one that starts with the storm sounds, and I'd listen to it until the storm outside out-volumed the car speakers' capability.

Always in awe of Mother Nature....

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Boo Boo Fixing Super Powers

I'm convinced that our roles as parents are set really early in our children's lives.


If they wanted to be tossed high into the air...talk to dad.

If they wanted a snack...talk to mom.

If they wanted to build something with power tools (not counting my awesome sewing machine)...talk to dad.

If they had a boo boo...talk to mom.


And while I've pretty much managed to shake the whole "talk to mom" if they're hungry, I still haven't shaken the boo boos.  Not that I want to, mind you.


Last night I had to be away from home overnight and at about 1:00 AM I ended up engaging in a long texting conversationwith my little guy who was having some undesirable symptoms.  Mind you, his dad was there in the house sleeping, less than thirty feet away.  I was all the way across town.  But contact me, he did.

And even though I'm pretty darn exhausted today after having taken the kid to the doctor and then to the pharmacy, I'm happy that I've maintained my boo boo fixing super powers.


Upon arriving at home...

Little guy:  "Mom, I'm hungry."

Yup, still working on shaking that one...but not working terribly hard.

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The Inspection

Feeling like a rock star!

I actually got my car inspected the very month it was due, early in the month, no less!  I didn't really have any anxiety about it not passing, but every time I have to have this done, old anxiety memories tickle at the edges of my mind.

My first car, and likely my favorite car ever, a bright orange standard Renault LeCar, had an emergency brake lever that was basically there simply for moral support...just there to look good, essentially.  A reason to fail the inspection for sure.

But happily back then inspectors always seemed to need car owner's support during the process.  I'd sit in the car doing the horn and lights as guided, and when it was time for the emergency brake test...well, I'd pull the lever up, stick my foot out the door, press it to the ground, and do my darndest to keep the car from rolling as the inspector gave it a nudge from the rear. 

And it worked!  Year after year it worked!!

And my 47 year old self is happily patting my teenage self on the back for such amazing brilliance.

This is part of my Hallway Project.

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But First, Let me Take a Selfie

It was a day of brief waiting for me.  Not highway traffic or anything like that.  Nope, this was purely people impeding my path of desire.

I was at the gym today.  One machine away from the finish line.  As I was completing my three sets on my second to last machine of the day, a fella got settled in on my last machine.  I thought, "Perfect!  We'll finish our sets at the same exact time and I'll just move right on over to that machine."

Well, it sounded great, but what happened is this.  Whilst I did my first two sets he primped his hair and took quite a number of selfies.  I figured they must be facebook "Workin' out at the gym, yo" status updates.  Or something else just as important.  As I started my third and final set, he began his first.  Sigh...no worries, waiting is good for the soul, right?

After my workout I went to the grocery store.  I wandered around getting everything we needed, checked out, and headed toward the exit.  In front of me was a little boy who must have been about four years old.  He had his own mini shopping cart that proudly sported a banner that read "Shopper in Training" or some such thing.

Well, just as he passed through the door, following his mom, he stopped dead in his tracks, folded his arms on his chest, and uttered what must have been, "hummmph!"

I found myself not at all bothered by this delay and totally wished that little guy had a cell phone he could whip out and he'd say, "I could leave the store, but first, let me take a selfie."

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The Gift of Easy Gifting

Dave and I went out to eat tonight.  On the way back we passed by the mall.  I suppose the mall is OK on a normal day, but oh, my goodness, there was gridlock in that parking lot.  I was so happy to not be in it.  In our actively inactive participation in the holidays, we've pretty much avoided all the shopping hoopla.  I admit we did buy a couple of things for my niece and nephew who are many states away.  Amazon, thank you very much...shopping in my PJs awesomeness!  We're happily giving my art to family as gifts.  No shopping there.  And my kids?  Well, they're each getting cash and, I'm every so slightly embarrassed to admit, groceries.  Yup, all their tangible gifts say "Trader Joe's" on them somewhere.  And I'm absolutely positive they will love what they receive!

This is my happiest and most stress free holiday season ever!

I recommend it.

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I Found the Link to my Inner Child

I found the link to my inner child.  I've found it before, but I didn't really realize it.  But this last time I saw it for what it was.  I rather like to draw with my left hand (I'm a righty) as a challenge.  I do it every once in a while just for fun.  What I realize now is that it's a total release.  It's permission to be a kid, to be utterly and completely imperfect, to do something purely for fun, to experiment without any expectations of a "good" result.  It's FABULOUS! 

And it produced these super cute little guys!

So go for it!  Find the link to your inner child.  Maybe it's as close as your "other" hand.

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Fleepin' Beepin'

I love the whole key fob concept.  It's quite fabulous.  Especially with my car as I only have to have the fob in the car with me to make the car go.  No hunting for a key in the bottom of my purse.  No key in the ignition.  I totally loved it, that is, until yesterday.

I was sitting in the house happily painting, and BEEP!  Hey, was that my car?  I walk out to the carport.  BEEP!  BEEP! Hmmmmmm....BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!

OK, weirdness.  I go back in and get my keys...go back out and push the lock button.  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP! I push the unlock button.  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP! OK, serious weirdness.

Side note:  People going to the ACL fest are streaming by my house at this time, likely wondering what the crazy lady is doing locking and unlocking her car over and over and over and....

I go back in and sit at the table.  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!

Nope, not gonna go back out there and try to solve this.  Nope.

BEEP!   BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!

 Dave gets home.  "Maybe it's my broken fob to your car."  (Somehow Dave's fob got beat up in his pocket.  All the buttons are broken off.  The thing looks pitiful.)

The fob hangs on our key hanger thingie...and it definitely looks like it feels guilty.  I grab it, go out, lock my car...BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!...unlock my car...BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!...go back in and take that fob of ill refute to a far-away corner of the house.

And...silence.

Fleepin' beepin' psycho fob!  Containment achieved.

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Does this haircut make my butt look fat?

Our big puppy, Hazel, is perfect in every way.  Well, except for the fact that she sheds.  Oh, and that she has a list of phobias about a mile wide.  The phobias?  Don't bug us a bit.  They rather crack us up.  Seriously...afraid of moving leaves, Hazel?  The shedding?  Can't stand it.  We find mini-Hazels all about the house...masses of black hair in the corners, under the tables, rolling across the floor like tumble weeds...not attractive.

Anyway, It was time to give our Hazel a hair cut.  (Did I mention she's clippers phobic?)  I started with her back.  It's the easiest and makes me feel good because I can get a lot done quickly.  Then I moved to her legs.  She's not a fan.  I'm not a fan.  We did not have a good time.  Next chest.  Then neck.  Then the holy grail of awfulness...her head.

And then I declared that I was done.  Finished.  The rest would be for Dave to do.  When?  I dunno.  Ever?  I did not care.  I was done.

I released Hazel to go in the room where everyone else was hanging out.  She looked like a mythical faun...my sweet girl in puffy Russian-esque fur pants.


Dave:  "Wow...Does this haircut make my butt look fat?"


Totally...but don't tell Hazel.  She's cruising around the house shedding half as much as she did the day before, blissfully clueless.

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The Nerve!

I got home really late the other night.  Really, really, really late if you know me.  I had a fantastic reason for it...a reason that I'm not allowed to blog about.  Seriously...not.allowed.to.blog.about.it.  But I might just consider telling you in person if you ask me nicely.

Anyway, I walked in the house at 2:00 AM super hyper and super jazzed and totally ready to talk to anyone and everyone about it.  I was greeted by two super happy dogs that weren't the least bit interested in anything I had to say but happily accepted all the love I could dole out.  I walked through the kitchen to my room.  The light was off...Dave was asleep.  I looked down the hall, the light was off...big guy was asleep.  I passed by the middle bedroom and saw light from under the door.  I cracked it open and saw two very, VERY awake fourteen year old boys.  And they were VERY interested in everything I had to say.  Hooray!  And then I got tired.  Yup, last bit of energy spent on storytelling.  I dragged myself to the shower, got dressed for bed, and...


Little guy:  "Hey, mom!  Will you make us something to eat?"


Sorry, kid.  You earned a TON of points when you listened to my tale of adventure, but there's no way I'm gonna get busy in the kitchen and whoop up something for ya at 2:30 AM. 

The nerve!


P.S. I woke up the next morning and did get seriously busy in the kitchen making breakfast for two incredibly adorable sleep-deprived teenagers.

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