Wedded Wives

Dearly Beloved,

We are gathered here today to put on a school fundraiser, which is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly or without the book from the year before, that tells you what the hell you're supposed to be doing.

If any person can show just cause for why this fundraiser should not be held as it was the year before, let them speak now and commit themselves to Chair the event, or forever hold their peace. You didn't want to chair... you must now HOLD YOUR PEACE!

Who gives these two Mom's permission to pick a DJ, decide on the caterers, make casino choices and choose whether the "Chicken Dance" will be played during the event?

This event is a serious event. It should not be looked upon lightly. Each year the schools successes and extravagances are judged by the fundraiser put forth the year before. With this in mind...

Do you Margie, take Susanne to be your lawful wedded bitch to yell at and cuss out, throughout the fundraising process?

Do you Susanne, take Margie through sickness and health, smart-ass moments and tear jerking stomach spasms from laughing too much, throughout the fundraising process?

If so... repeat after me...

I will not EVER tell ANYONE, what we discuss in moments of ridiculous, sleep deprived pandemonium. I promise to have your back whenever someone who didn't have the guts to chair the boot starts to cuss you out. I will pump you full of caffeine before every meeting and feed you chocolate whenever the shit hits the fan... and I promise above all else to be your friend on April 26th.

I am so happy to present to you, the newly wedded fundraising beotches, Smarty Pants and Slippers!

You may now eat your chocolate!

25 Random Things About me

I did this for my friends on Facebook who were bugging me to complete it. It took so much time, I decided to post it here too. At least get the mileage out of my suffering through it. Hopefully, these are random enough that some might surprise you.

25 Things About me

1. I have a very traumatic memory of Brussel Sprouts as a kid. I have had therapy, but I still can’t look at them without feeling insecure and sick to my stomach.
2. I believe in the power of positive thinking.
3. I am hopelessly in love with my dogs.
4. I love to have people over, for drinks, for dinners, to hang out.
5. I think sometimes your friends can be more like family to you than some of your family.
6. The day I got married I was scared to death I would screw it up.
7. I believe in Angels, Ghosts, Jesus and Reincarnation and no matter what your religion is I don’t believe you are wrong.
8. I love to run, drive fast, and listen to loud music.
9. I love having my kids around, but a lot of times I am desperate for a quiet moment.
10. I cuss a lot... in front of my kids, and I don’t feel guilty about it.
11. I am a Colorado Native and I hate to ski. I’m the “sit in the lodge, with a cocktail” girl.
12. I used to own a V8, green Mustang Convertible with brown leather seats and I really miss it.
13. I think my sister and I are really twins born 15 months apart.
14. My husband saved me from myself.
15. I am a better person than I was when I was younger.
16. I hate cats and thought it was funny when mine got eaten by a Mountain Lion.
17. I think I’m really funny, and I love people who make me laugh.
18. I HATE doing laundry more than anything else. Ridiculous, never-ending, mundane, thoughtless task!
19. I love to paint. Not pictures but rooms in my house, because that is a task you can complete and I love the feeling when it’s all done and looks different.
20. I like to change my hair a lot just to add a little excitement to my husband’s life, although I’m not sure he even notices anymore.
21. I know what a really bad day is so I have no patience for people who are always finding something to complain about.
22. I believe you can tell everything about a person by whether or not they smile easily and by looking in their eyes.
23. I love to learn new words, try new foods, and go to new places.
24. I often have too much on my mind and have trouble focusing on one thing at a time.
25. I really, really like to make shit up. Have a complete fantasy life going on in my head. Go to places where no one knows me and pretend to be someone different. Lose myself in good books or good movies. I love to tell stories.

Happy Birthday!

Eight years ago today, my sister timed my contractions all through the first half of the Superbowl. As the end of the game approached we knew we were headed for the hospital. I remember standing in my living room in the dark for a moment by myself, feeling a contraction bearing down and knowing my life would change forever.

As DH drove through a snowstorm with my sister in the back still timing my contractions, I had every imaginable thought about what might possibly go wrong. By the time we got to the hospital an hour later, I was cussing.

I realize that’s not surprising for those of you who know me, but I seriously thought I was gonna die. I was hollering for all I was worth. Then my favorite man in the entire world walked through the door… The anesthesiologist! He took that giant needle and stuck it in my back and everything was sunshine and roses again.

My DH really wanted a boy. In fact he asked me before he agreed to marry me, if I would have as many as it took to get a boy. I was sure we’d have a bus load of girls and I’d be bearing children until my eggs would no longer hatch. My sister, who already had two boys of her own, really wanted a girl. I really wanted a baby.

When the baby finally came, it was January 29th his actual due date. I heard my sister say in a completely disgusted voice, “That, would be a boy,” and I saw DH pump his fists in the air like he’d just won the lottery. I had my baby, that’s all that mattered to me.

DH declared his name… then they weighed the baby, 6lbs 4oz. This next part will stick in my mind for all eternity, my darling sister announcing, “Wow, I thought surely she’d have a much bigger baby.”

The only part better than actually having the baby was getting to call my in-laws. This was their first grandbaby and telling them he was here, was a lot of fun.

The first day he was home, we found out he had Jaundice. Our precious baby got to live in a suitcase for the first week of his life. After that we just let him live under the counter.

Here it is eight years later. I am so blessed to have such a fine young man to call my son. He is such a delight. Happy Birthday, baby!

"Read to me, Mama"

I lost my darn parent pamphlet and I'm pretty sure I'm not doing it right.

Let me start at the beginning. I started reading to my son when he was six months old. My friends and family would marvel at the basket of books in our living room that our toddler would constantly bring over to hear us read. He would sit in my lap and listen to one after another, after another. Friends would ask me how I did it, how I got him so interested. I honestly didn't do anything but offer them to him and he loved it.

I was always a good reader. I loved it from the very beginning. I get very nostalgic when I think of all the great stories I read when I was a kid. I loved it. Because of these two things, I always assumed my kids would be the same way. I'm not sure I even assumed it so much as not giving it a second thought. Sure they would read, why wouldn't they?

You can imagine my surprise when at the end of Kindergarten his teacher pulled me in to put him on a reading plan. He simply wasn't getting it. I was shocked. I didn't realize this was something I was going to have to really teach him. I just thought he'd pick it up the same as riding a bike or losing a tooth. It just happened, right?

Um... apparently not.

He's in second grade now, and while he's really doing great, he's still a little behind and he just doesn't seem to like it much. I know I put pressure on him to be a good reader. I just think it's so important. How will he ever be a good student if he's not a good reader?

Tonight, he had a little melt down. He's only in second grade and he's feeling the stress. He thinks it's all really hard. I sit here tonight feeling like a pretty crappy mom. I want so much for him, I just don't know how to help him achieve it.

Beanbags ROCK!

The dog trainer came this morning and much to the surprise of my husband, she succeeded in turning Cujo into Lassie in about 90 minutes. By the time she was done with him the dog could juggle and dance a jig while saving Timmy at the same time.

Trouble is, now it’s up to me to keep Lassie convinced I’m the one in charge. She’s been gone about 30 minutes and he’s still in a total state of WTF just happened here. It makes me laugh out loud to have him look to see if it’s okay with me for him to lie down.

She armed me with the new growl noise (which hubby finds hysterical and slightly sexy) and the new threat. Apparently, I was not being threatening enough. I have three beanbag looking devices that have chain inside them similar to choke chain. When he doesn’t listen, I drop one of them in front of him and it scares him silly. Big 100-pound dog turns into a big baby over a beanbag! Can you believe it?? Me neither.

I am giddy with delight! Seriously, giddy! HA HA Dog. A few hundred dollars bought me a couple of SCARY beanbags and a whole new dog. Who woulda thunk it? Now if I can just train the kids the same way, my life is back under control.

Painting

One snowy white morning, I was driving my kids to school when my son shared with me his friends idea of a snow covered day. She told him God decided he wanted to paint that day so by morning, he had turned everything totally white. He could start over and spend the whole day painting the world all the beautiful colors for a second time.

That's the way it works in Colorado. You wake up to the entire world covered in white and by the afternoon, all the colors are back. It's a nice image to think of God with a giant paintbrush taking his time to color all the world back the way he likes it.

If this is the way it works then God decided to start with Gray this morning. I got up at 7:00AM and went out to walk our old dog. We can't let him out by himself anymore or he wanders away. I don't really know if he's out exploring the world or if he follows his nose and ends up lost. I tend to think the latter.

It reminds me of the time when I was in high school, my mom and I were driving past an old folks home that had a wide open field next to it. Out in the field, an old woman in a robe and slippers was running as fast as her 80 year old legs would take her. Not far behind were the nurses trying to catch her. I was sure, in my infinite wisdom of 17, she was enjoying a moment of freedom. Now it occurs to me she may have been lost and desperately trying to figure out where she belonged.

For this reason, I completely enjoy giving my dog our time out in the morning. He takes his time sniffing around, as if things might have changed since the night before, occasionally looking back just to make sure I'm still there... making sure I don't get lost.

This morning while we were out I noticed the quiet, then I noticed the gray. The trees were gray and the ground was gray. The entire sky was gray, with a mist of low hanging gray clouds completely erasing the mountains we live by. I honestly couldn't see one single thing that wasn't gray.

I thought about my kid's friend for a moment, then I thought about how much I would appreciate all the colors when God got done painting later today.

The Butterfly Effect

The Butterfly effect from Wikipedia:

“The phrase refers to the idea that a butterfly’s wings might create tiny changes in the atmosphere that may ultimately alter the path of a tornado or delay, accelerate or even prevent the occurrence of a tornado in a certain location. The flapping wing represents a small change in the initial condition of the system, which causes a chain of events leading to large-scale alterations of events. Had the butterfly not flapped its wings, the trajectory of the system might have been vastly different. While the butterfly does not cause the tornado, the flap of its wings is an essential part of the initial conditions resulting in a tornado.”

I just finished reading, “The Hour I First Believed” By Wally Lamb. It’s a long book with a lot going on, but one thing that caught my attention and stuck is the Chaos Complexity Theory – which is basically the Butterfly Effect.

What a fascinating theory. It reminds me and makes me consider the overall effect we as human beings have on one another. While we may not create the chaos that happens in another person’s life, what we do, our actions before and after may effect the outcome or severity of the chaos.

Here in my home town, there is a big controversy happening about our responsibilities to help one another in our community. The way the situation has been handled so far has created far more chaos than I ever imagined could be brought about by people I call neighbors and friends.

The smallest amount of generosity shown to another human being, results in a kindness that cannot be measured. I know this is true. I have lived this kind of generosity. This holds true for every interaction we share with others. The kindness shown to a child, or a single abuse forced on that child, has a long-standing effect on who that person becomes and what they will in turn reflect upon others.

On this day, when our newest president takes office, I must consider the desire he has to affect other people through hope for our future. The actions it will take to make a significant change in our country are not his alone but all of our responsibility. While some mock his desire to instill hope as an action plan, I do have hope. It occurs to me the simple act of hope, may in fact be as subtle as the flap of the butterfly’s wings.

Call me Pollyanna or naïve, call me whatever you like, but know, that my actions will always be considered. For while the butterfly may not be aware of it’s power over situations, we as human beings must be aware that the extent of our action or inaction will cause a tornado, or possibly alter it’s course, and with that in mind, it should never be a question of whether or not we will help ~ but simply how can we best serve those who cross our path?