"You don't smell like Michael"

Had a great Halloween with the kids...Ashley went to a bonfire and then came back to the house with friends and played poker for candy. If you thought the tension was high between grown me playing for money, you should have seen four teenagers playing for chocolate. I thought it was going to get ugly. I could hear the play by play because they chose to play in the living room directly under my bedroom instead of the 1500 square foot basement that we remodeled just fo the kids and their friends. I won't divulge any of the conversation but I am sad to report that the phrase "that's what she said" is still being used.

Michael went to a co-ed Halloween party. They all dressed up like crayola crayons and went as a box of crayons. His friend Jessica wanted to decorate his t-shirt but he told her "no, my mom will want to do it ...she's kind of a freak about stuff like that ..:. At least my son knows me well. This was the easiest costume I have ever had to do so I was very happy. If you remember a few years ago Michael wanted to go as a pimp so a crayon was a big improvement. After the party I picked him up and this was the conversation on the way home:

Mom: Did you have fun?

Michael: Yea, it was a blast.

Mom: Sniff Sniff..you don't smell like Michael..

Michael: What? What do you mean?

Mom: I mean you smell like someone other than yourself. You smell I don't know ..sweet?

Michael: Are you kidding me? I don't SMELL like me?

Mom: No you don't you smell all sweet ...did you make out with a girl.

Michael: NO...geez

Mom: Are you sure?

Michael: I am 100% sure I didn't "make out" with a girl!!!

Mom: Well, you sure smell sweet for a boy.

Michael: Maybe it was all the candy I ate.

Mom: No it's a girl smell not a Snickers smell. I'm not dumb you know..if you made out with a girl you can tell me...

Michael: I didn't make out with a girl!!

Mom: Did you kiss one, or hug one?

Michael: NO!!! I swear I didn't do anything with a girl.

Mom: OK but you don't smell like my Michael.

Michael: You have got to be kidding me!

After many sideways looks by me and much more denial by him we continued home.Ten minutes from home his face lit up and he grabbed his baseball sweatshirt out of this bag. I hadn't seen this sweatshirt in a month because one Friday night Jessica ( the girl that had the party) called him from the H.S. football game and told him she was cold and asked if he could bring her one of his sweatshirts to wear. Pretty smart girl.... Michael grabbed the sweatshirt and sniffed it and exclaimed "THIS IS IT!!!!" Apparently Jessica had been wearing it to school every day and she wears a very lovely but not a Michael smelling body spray. He was so excited to solve this mystery and to tell me "I told you so..." I was really happy that he hadn't spent so much time with some girl at the party that he "didn't smell like Michael". Oh, there may have been some kissing going on, I am no fool. But at least for now he still smells like my bitty baby boy Michael.

I love PJ's

Thank God I don't have a uterus...

because I fear I would attempt to use it. If you had told me that I would be falling in love with babies at this point in my life I would have told you that you were certifiably insane. I have long since been OVER the "baby phase" and quite frankly have never looked back. But lately I just long for a baby. Their little cherub like faces are everywhere..they look so sweet and I just want to snuggle them into my arms. I see all the little cute clothes and just want to gather them in my arms and rush to the check-out. I know this is absolutely crazy but it is what it is and I am praying it will pass. I discussed this with the kids and they had very different points of view. Ashley reacted with "are you crazy...do you really think you want get up at 3 a.m. with a baby?" No I replied I thought you could do that and then by the time you go to college the baby would be sleeping thru the night. She did not find this at all funny (hope my new baby has a better sense of humor) and left with a stern warning to not even think about this topic again. That's my pragmatic, mature no nonsense girl. Michael on the other hand replied "COOL can we get a black baby? I always wanted a black baby......" That's Michael, not thinking at all about how much work it would be but how cool it would be and this would be his chance to finally be black which is his dream. No thoughts about the responsibility or that no matter what race the baby is we would still have to feed it.

This crazy baby obsession will pass and I am smart enough to know that I am just realizing that this job I love is coming to an end. For the last 17 years everything I have done has been centered around one goal...the kids and I guess I am a little scared about how things will be different when I am not making lunches and helping kids study for tests. In my heart I know I am really good at this job and I guess I worry about being downsized. My friends say it is somewhat "normal" to feel this way and I am lucky that without my good ole uterus I am safe from making a rash decision that would put me at kindergarten orientation on my 50th birthday. But it just goes to show that life is always changing and things I would have bet the bank would never be an issue for me have a way of sneaking into my reality. Life and the way it keeps changing never ceases to amaze me. Why is it when I think I have it all figured out it throws me a curve ball?

I guess I have to just keep dreaming new dreams, facing new realities and embracing where I am in this journey. When I look at what I have accomplished with my children in the past 17 years it gives me hope that I can be as productive and face my life after kids . I may need a new "baby" to tend to . ... whether it be a new career or adventure or whatever I encounter.

Helicopter parents ...listen up!!

Tonight we attended Michael's curriculum night at Walnut Creek Middle School. It was the typical introduction of teachers, course descriptions and classroom guidelines. I love that they have these so you can put a face with a name and you know exactly what the policies are so that when your child tries to tell you how cruel so and so teacher is you know what they really mean is they are tough and they hold me accountable.

During the principle's speech she informed us about a new district wide program where the kids even if they are paying cash for lunch have to log their student i.d. number when they go thru line. This is apparently so that they can keep track and log onto a web site and she exactly what your child had for lunch. Seriously????? There are days I am so tired that I don't even care what they have for dinner much less logging on to check their lunch. Is their a parent out there that between checking their grades online, emailing the teacher and working has time to not only log on but keep track of what their kid had for lunch? Do these kids get no wiggle room? In the good ole days parents didn't know what your grades were until you brought home your report card. Yes they actually trusted the kids with the actual cards. This gave kids time to be creative with an explanation and also time to try to alter the grades with a pencil. You could pull the old " I left it in my locker for a couple of days. Fun times! You could take your lunch to school and trade with anyone you wanted. If your parents let you buy lunch they gave you real money and you took it to school. I made ten dollars a week in high school by having pie and iced tea everyday and pocketing the rest of the money. It was a brilliant plan. Now my parents would be able to log on and see I was eating pie for lunch.

If we don't stop micro managing every little aspect of our kids lives we are going to end up with a very screwed up generation. To the mom out there that is logging on every day to check grades, tardies and lunch intake I say get a frickin life and maybe your kid will have a chance at a normal life as well.

Everybody is somebody's baby....

Last night on the news there was a story about a nineteen year old "kid" that burglarized a home. Now if you watch the Detroit news you know that murder usually makes the headlines not burglary. This was no run of the mill burglary because not only did he break into some one's home to steal all their electronics (that in these economic times they're probably still paying for) but he killed their kitten. He took all their tech stuff and as an added bonus he put their 7 month old kitten into their Maytag front loader and turned it on. Now in my book burglary is one thing but when you start torturing and killing animals there is something bad wrong with you. If you break into my house and kill my dog you had better hope the po-po finds you before I do.

The really side part of the story was when the news crew in their infinite wisdom tracked down his nanny granny and put her on camera. She was using a walker , wearing a house coat and had her hair up in a gray bun. She had one lone chin hair hanging down accented by the light coming in from behind her. She was newscaster GOLD. She sobbed about what a good boy her grandson was and how he just got in with the wrong crowd. Between sobs she said how much he loved him. It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen. If I had been shocked about what he did to the cat, I was mortified about him breaking his grannies heart. You like to think that people who commit crimes of this nature are so far from our normal. They must not have received enough love as a child, but clearly this boy was loved unconditionally. I ached for her. She was a perfect example of the kind of love we all have for our children. I could just see her dragging her walker down to the Wayne County jail and visiting her grand baby. By this time next week she will be reaching into her bra for money to deposit into his jail account so he can buy cigarettes. The ripple effect of what he had done had reached far beyond the family and the home he had invaded and the kitten he had killed. His selfish and stupid act had hurt so many people. When asked why he killed the kitten he said "it was bothering me while I was trying to rob the house". The good news is where he is headed annoying pussy will no longer be a problem.

Gray hair alert

Yesterday at work co-worker commented that she this was the first time she had ever seen gray in my hair..I laughed and told her it was because I was working so much that I didn't have time to get my hair done. After work I was at the neighbors with Ashley and the sun hit my head and she literally screamed "oh my God, what is wrong with your hair>?????". Apparently the big gray spot looked purple in the sunlight. Later in the evening Michael noticed and said" cool, you will be a really cool old lady". My question is when did my basic maintenance start to become part time job? Going to hairdresser used to be a treat but not apparently it is a necessity. I am graying , growing hair in the same places on my face that my pre-pubescent son is and my skin...well it has just gone straight to hell. I do not have the time or the resources to combat this attack on my body. I have so many creams and lotions to apply and slather that I have to devote more time than I want just to get ready for bed. Everything I put in my mouth goes straight to my gut and the energy to exercise is a distant memory. I know exercise gives you energy but where do I get the initial energy to exercise to get the energy? I am in the abyss between being cute and young and being old and just not giving a damn. When I lose the energy to accessorize I want someone to just shot me.

I know that 40 is the new 30 and blah , blah blah but seriously people I need a full time colorist and chin hair plucker just to keep ahead of the curve. Not to mention that my chin hairs are evil and can go from nothing to three inches long overnight. If science could figure out how to grow crops at that rate we would be the best feed nation in the world.

Don't get me wrong I am not giving up. I have a hair and nail appt. at 11:00 but it ain't as fun as it used to be. I may still be "painting the barn" but it's not what it used to be. Oh well, orthopaedic shoes and moo moos can't be that bad..........

How I almost died for cooking oil....

I spent this week in Tennessee with my kids, my brother and his daughter at my grandmother's house. There are so many stories that I almost couldn't decide which one to tell you first but thought the one where I was near death would be good so here goes....

Phone ringing....my aunt Brenda-Honey has called to inform us that Food Rite in Newbern has cooking oil (not Wesson but Buy Rite brand) for a dollar and today is the last day. Does my grandmother need any she ask? Asking my grandmother if she needs something that is on sale is like asking a group at an AA meeting if anyone needs a new liver. The answer will always be a resounding YES!! Grandmother hangs up phone and voices her concern that Brenda Honey will only be able to get six ..three she will purchase and three her husband will purchase. How will she carry all these and will she give three to her are the questions my grandmother is pondering out loud. While she ponders she stares at me with those big blue eyes and I immediately suggest that my brother and I drive over there and then we can get six just for her.....Yippee!!!! She can store them alongside the 500 trash bags and thousands of canned goods. This sounds like a great plan to her. So off we go.

We get to the store and there are frantic Southern belles everywhere trying to get their hands on that oil. The end cap was empty and we were led to a box of oil in the back of the store. The lady that scurried us back there acted like we were making a drug deal and quickly disappeared. We boxed up our six bottles and made our escape. Now we are at the checkout and paying separately for our oil as they are very strict about their three per customer rule. We turned to look outside as we were waiting and realized that for six in the evening it was completely dark outside. Not a good sign in the South. As I walked over to look out the window there is the longest and darkest cloud I have ever seen. I send Tony and Taylor to the car and wonder if my grandmother will kill us if we don't come home with the oil and decide our chances are better with the tornado. As I get into the car the rain is pelting me and the cloud had developed a tail. Now I am no Al Roker but I do know enough to realize that if a storm cloud starts to form appendages we are in deep doo-doo. Tony, who watches way too much weather channel, describes how we can tell if the possible funnel cloud is moving toward us or away. I am more worried at this point about hail damaging my grandmother's car than I am about diving in a ditch to escape a twister. I figure we can put the cooking oil in first , then Taylor and leave Tony for the top of the pile. Luckily, as fast as it appears it goes back up in the clouds and we breathe a sigh of relief. This won't be how it ends. We will not die for bargain brand cooking oil and my grandmother will be able to deep fry many more pieces of meat in the future. Life is good.