An Encounter with a Divine Creature

I ran into a divine creature today at Costco.  Walking down one of the frozen foods aisles, I saw a man and a woman making their way toward my direction.  They both had the loveliest long gray hair.  The woman's was tinted with hot pink on the sides, she wore glasses and a nose ring, was just the right amount of blissfully overweight...and, oh, my...she was divine. 

"Your hair makes me SO happy!"  I say as soon as I'm in range.  I could see my big guy shrink just a bit out of the corner of my eye.

She stammered a bit, surprised by my proclamation, and then smiled ever so brightly and owned what I had said with a gracious response.

"I can't wait for mine to be as amazing as yours...OK, I can wait, but I will so embrace it."  I know, I'm a bit of a spaz.

Her mate smiled softly at me, "Yes, embrace the days along the way."


As my big guy and I continued on I could hear the divine creature with the pink embellishments gushing a bit about how nice it was to hear what I'd said.


Big guy:  "You talk to a lot of random people, Mom."  This was said as a comment, not as high praise.

Me:  "Yeah, because I'm awesome."

Big guy:  "You're weird."


Fine-n-dandy...I'll just as happily embrace my current weirdness as my eventual gray hair (WITH pink highlights!).

Love is in the Air

What I neglected to say in my previous blog was that Dave and I were on an overnight date.  We had a complimentary stay at a downtown hotel and we left the kids HOME ALONE.  First time ever!  We were very clear that our cat, Pug, was in charge while we were away seeing how he's the most responsible critter living in our house.

Anyway, lovely, lovely time was had by all.  When we got home mid-morning the kiddos were still asleep.  We hung around for a bit, quality puppy time was needed, of course, and puttered around the house briefly.  As Dave and I were coming off of our romantic night away (I got 10 hours sleep, thank you very much!!!  I LOVE blackout curtains!), we figured a trip to Home Depot to look for a new toilet was a great way to keep the romance candle burning.  After all, nothing says, "I love you," like discussing whether or not a particular toilet can handle your "output" effectively.  Yeah, makes ya feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  When we got back early afternoon the kids were STILL sleeping.  Rattle, rattle, shake, shake, grunt, grunt....


Me:  "Did you miss us?"

Little guy:  "Not a bit."

Me:  "What was the best thing about last night?"

Little guy:  "You being gone."

Me:  "What was the worst part?"

Little guy:  "Not as good food."


See, I knew he missed us!

"Hot" Date Awesomeness

So, did you know people in Austin go out on weeknights?  I had no idea.  Really, none.  I'm sitting in a coffee shop on a Thursday evening, sipping my decaf (lest my sleep be disturbed tonight...perish the thought), people watching, blogging, and utterly and completely ignoring Dave.

Did I mention that we're out on a date?

There is something terribly romantic about tandem laptop use, there really is.  We're relaxed, have no responsibilities, and, hey, we're together.  Remember, people, most of our dates end with our bringing bags of groceries into the house.  This date is "HOT"!

OK, so I'm looking over the screen of my computer at my husband thinking, "Dang, he's SO cute," and I notice he's looking off to my left.  I turn around and am greeted with the sight of a couple doing some heavy, HEAVY making out.  Not just your run-of-the-mill public displays of affection.  No I'm seriously thinking that a child may be conceived just a mere six feet from where I'm sitting.  I turn around quickly and Dave is smiling, giggling a bit, and tilting his head just slightly.  I figure he's making fun of my reaction to the love session, but, no, the dude is blissing out because he's face timed big guy.  I tune my ears in just in time to hear him say, "I didn't call to talk to you, I called because I'm missing my puppy."  And, darn, the "Dad of the Year" nominations just ended yesterday.  Ah, well.  Big guy dutifully scampered off and brought Hazel into the camera's view and Dave got his puppy fix.  All I have to say is I feel really lucky to have a husband more interested in puppies than frisky coffee shop activities.

Show me the Money

I got my hair trimmed today.  Actually, every human member of my family got their hair cut today.  We figured AFTER all the photo ops were done we'd go ahead and spiff up.  Yup, we're thinkers!

Anyway, when I was getting my hair trimmed ("Just the tiniest amount, please."  I'm growing my bangs AND my layers out, thank you very much.), I asked the woman cutting my hair if she was going to trim my layered parts to clean them up as well and she said that the highlights I had in my hair would take care of that on their own.  "Hmmmmmm," I'm thinking.  I sat on that comment for a bit trying to wrap my mind around what she meant.


Me:  "What do you mean 'the highlights would take care of that'?"

Her:  "The highlighting chemically damages your hair so it just breaks on its own."


OK, this could go two directions.  One, my hair looks uber damaged, chemically so, in fact.  Two, I look like I spend a lot of money and time on my hair, which lazy/cheap old me doesn't.


Me:  "I don't highlight my hair, this is all natural."  I wait, slightly cringing, to see what her response would reveal.

Her:  "You don't?  That's amazing.  People would kill for your hair."  Gee, I hope not!  "People spend a lot of money to get hair just like yours."


OK, so I'm relaxing into number two option.

I sat there in silence as she went ahead and cleaned up my non-highlighted layers, too.  Actually, it just gave me time to think.


Me:  "So...just how much money do people spend to highlight their hair to make it look just like mine?"

Her:  "Maybe about $185ish."  GASP!!!

Me:  "And how often do they do this?"

Her:  "Every six weeks or so."  Whoa, holy moly!


So, I came home with a great new hair cut AND great news for my Go-to-California budget.  I'm thinking that every six weeks that goes by that I'm not spending $185 getting my hair highlighted, that money goes into my fund!  I mean, wowza, just look at how much money I save my family purely by having great naturally highlighted hair genes.  Cha-ching!!

God Save the Queen...or the Prince...or the...whatever

We spent the afternoon with my brother's family today.  It was fabulous...I'm totally, utterly and completely in love with them all.  They left today.   Sniff, sniff, not feeling like talking about it yet, but I will say we have already begun the process of figuring out how I can fly out to California with the boys this summer (yes, the days of driving to California are finished for now, whew, been there, done that TWICE, check it off the list).

Anyway, after they left today I needed to drive my dad's minivan to the dealer to get it repaired.  Apparently my brother broke a bunch of parts in the two weeks he used it.  Or, maybe it was just a coincidence.  Hmmmmmm...I dunno.  I gave little guy the choice between riding with me in the van and riding with Dave in the Prius.  And...drumroll...he chose ME!  Yeah, I'm feeling like the awesome mom he must see me as.  For sure.  No doubt.  I'm riding high as I turn the key in the ignition, and within one second little dude turns on the radio and tunes it to his favorite hip-hop/rap station.  Oh.  I get it.  It's not about me, not really.  It's about me consistently allowing him to choose the radio station (I actually totally dig his music).  We're cruising along and I'm quietly singing along to parts I know.  When we turned onto the highway and were delighting in the bliss that 183 is at 5 PM on a weekday, "We Will Rock You" and then "We are the Champions" played.  Oh, man!  We both love those and they're pretty much the only songs my guy is OK with me crooning along to, loud and proud.  Only I discovered that in the aftermath of my cold, my singing voice is seriously hoarse.  Little dude looked at me, a bit pleased with my plight.  When the songs ended he turned off the radio.  I get that.  I mean, gosh, nothing can top that, no way.


Little guy:  "Was that Prince or Queen?"

Me:  "That was Queen."

Little guy:  "I always get them confused."  (I'm thinking, "I NEVER get them confused!")

Me:  "Yeah, those regal names are hard to keep straight, eh."

Little guy:  "They really are."


I love him so much!!!

The Magic of Christmas

After multiple family celebrations we are blissfully calling Christmas finished.  Good times were definitely had, and as Dave sang in a little ditty he composed, "Yay, Christmas is over and now we're fat."

When I think of Christmas I simply cannot not think of my mom.  For me, she is so intertwined with the holiday that she is more representational than even Santa.  Not a surprise as she always (yes, always) dons a fuzzy or fluffy, depending on the year, Mrs. Claus outfit.  Her zest for this holiday is something to behold, and while it's waffled from being thrilling to neutral to outright annoying to me over the years, I cherish it deeply.  There's something about someone who is so passionate about something that they simply won't be put off by any negative reaction and are unbelievably encouraged by any positive response.

There would be at least 100 gifts under the tree each year.  I kept careful count, inventorying them daily and enforcing the "fairness" laws...and "fair" was achieved if I had the same amount or more than my brother.  Most were wrapped in rolls of awesome 70s wallpaper she'd bought cheap along the way, and were covered in the biggest bows ever.  The area surrounding the tree was so full that my brother and I would start opening presents, one per night, in advance of Christmas, and then the remainder would be opened Christmas Eve.  It was amazing!  After we opened all of our presents, my dad would read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" and we'd hang our stockings up in synch with the book.  After he finished we were all "Santa's helpers" and put some of our own gifts in each others' stockings.  Two very excited kiddos were sent to bed and my mom mentally prepared to do her night's task.

Christmas Day...it was quite the scene.  Balloons everywhere, HUGE stuffed animals she'd gotten at garage sales, shoes with our family members' faces painted on them (those were mine), and any other BIG stuff she had picked up over the year that was to big to wrap.  My favorite thing about Christmas was the happy face sticker Santa always left on my and my brother's P.J.s when he was about to leave our house.  We'd find more stickers throughout the day in other spots of the house.  Happy faces on art work and such, sad faces on messes we had neglected to clean up.  Every Christmas morning when I woke up, I'd check to see if there was a sticker on me yet.  If not, I dared not leave my room and I would do my best to fall back asleep.  When I did finally get up as a really wee one I'd consistently wake up just minutes after my mom had managed to get everything set up, and I'd be ready to dig through it all!  Poor thing was probably cross-over-buggy-exhausted.  The brunt of the set up and display was most definitely on her shoulders, 90% because it was her passion, and 10% because my dad's mobility was limited and thus his ability to help.  They'd try to ignore my excited requests for them to join me, and when they'd put me off I'd entertain myself by dissecting everyone's stockings and then replacing it all.  And, gosh, those stockings were stuffed!  She, literally, Christmas shopped all year long.

What's funny is every year my mom would have forgotten where she'd hidden many gifts throughout the year.  She'd remember what they were, but had no clue where they were.  She'd tell us about them because, as you know, it is the thought that counts, right?

Things have evolved over the years.  I've developed my own Christmas routines and rituals, and my mom has fit into our plans as we must attend three different celebrations each year.  She still dons her Mrs. Claus outfit each year (sometimes with a Santa hat and sometimes with Christmas do-dads clipped in her hair).  She still uses wall paper to wrap presents.  She's still the biggest contributor to the affair, gift-wise (this year we gave her a mug and a magnet and she gave us a box full of goodies).  And, she still shops all year long for Christmas gifts...there's something quite lovely about her thinking of us when she's out and about.  We might not like what she chooses for us all the time, but she's absolutely correct, it IS the thought that counts.

Thanks, mom, for making Christmas amazing, dream-fulfilling, magical, and weird for the last 44 years.  Love you!

Well, Color me Goofy!

OK, so the world is spinning just a bit, my stomach is rumbling all wacky, I just want to sit still and keep my eyes closed.  Am I sick again (still)?  Nah...I just accidentally left my glasses at my dad's (I brought 'em in case I decided to take a Christmas Day nap out there and needed to take my contacts out).  So, I've been wearing, or trying to wear, my glasses from the mid '90s.  I know I have only marginal style sense these days, but back then I had a clear and devastating deficit.  These glasses are golly gosh awful!  They were bad even back then.  I clearly remember people telling me things like:


"Wow, those would never look good on me, but I see you're pulling it off."

"Gee, those are VERY colorful."  (The rims are, essentially, rainbows.)

"Those glasses must go with anything you decide to wear."


And, clueless me, I'd smile right big at those "compliments" and think I was the shiznit.  And, sad to say, looking back at pictures I DID wear them with any and ALL colors.  Oh, my, my, my....

So, the nausea I'm feeling is utterly and completely related to the 15 year old prescription in my old glasses, not due to their ghastly appearance.  My family, on the other hand, do seem to be suffering from their visual presence in our home.  I've had to issue an apology for being so stuuuuupid 15 years ago, and an assurance that I'll get my current glasses back by tomorrow.


Other than the glasses incident, this has been a fabulous day with my family.  I hope you've had a wonderful day today filled with love, life and family, too!

Our Awesome Christmas Tree