Oopthie! Awe, NUTth!

Whatever happens tonight, it's going to be brilliant. I just ate two (2) bowls of sugar cereal (Golden Grahams) for dinner (for dinner). Let the games begin!

I took some time to do a lot of serious pondering and reflecting in my four day hiatus from blogging. It was a time of great personal growth for me, but now there's a lot to catch up on.

Friday was Olivia's fifth birthday. She's growing up fast but she still has a little lisp that I think is totally cute. (For example, after spilling the box of Junior Mints that I had hidden inside of my book all over the counter or dropping her orange jell-o on the carpet she says, "Oopthie! Awe, NUTth!")

Here's documentation of her party:

Tess was thinking: "This birthday party BLOWS. I'd so be outta here if I could walk."

Chancho was thinking: "I can't believe it's my birthday again!"

Macey was thinking: "CAKE! Cake, cake, cake, cake..."

Olivia was thinking: "Prethenth! Prethenth, prethenth, prethenth..."

On Monday we went out to NYNY Pizza and got free balloon animals. If you were within a two mile radius of my children that night I'm sure you heard their squeals of glee. Olivia asked the balloon man to fashion her balloon into "My mom, Halloween 2007. Kind of a blonde-haired thumo wrethler wearing a pink gown." The resemblance is uncanny. He also made an orange train (?) for Chancho and a horse (?) for Macey. Balloon Man, we salute you.

I put Tess's hair into the Double Atom Bomb Ponytails of Joy this week. It was a monumental occasion. I took a picture. She ripped them out. We went back to eating tortilla chips and playing basketball.

The End.

My shrink said to make lists.

Five Rules for life:

1. Never grocery shop while hungry.
2. You can't trust movie ratings.
3. That green paste they give you with sushi is too hot.
4. Please pull forward to the second window.
5. Don't write on your blog when you're feeling lonely/angry/depressed/psychotic.



(On Saturday my only brother got married and I was stuck in Trashville. I threw a pity party and no one showed up, but it's okay. The hors d'oeuvres were gross anyway. I've had very little sleep this month. My car smells weird. My earrings make my earlobes itch. Macey needs glasses. I live in Nashville. DJ is always at work. I found my kids mimicking my self-destructive behavior: My family found someone to stand in for me in the wedding pictures. Commence blogicide. And, no, I'm not pregnant.)

This picture brings four things to mind:
1. Kristen, my understudy and cousin, looks just enough like me to trick my posterity into thinking I was skinny and well-adjusted.
2. I'm the only Abrahamson female with the chest of a twelve-year-old. BOY.
3. Hey... aren't we supposed to be blonde?
4. I should utilize a stand-in more often.



Three places where I would use a stand-in:
1. The treadmill.
2. Wal-mart.
3. Rhymes with "map" and ends with SMEAR.



From Macey's backpack, her list of Top Ten Foods I Like:
1. Ches (cheese)
2. ice crem (ice cream)
3. Soda
4. Frit (fruit)
5. Pasta
6. Pie
7. ChesBrgr (cheeseburger)
8. hony (honey)
9. aPlle (apple)
10. caNDy

(11. Insulin. It's a food, right?)



Top five "Bad Mom" moments:
1. Finding Macey's food list.
2. When the tooth fairy stayed up too late playing Skip Bo with DJ and forgot to visit Macey, so she had to write a letter containing really bad poetry on the fly in her bathroom at seven o'clock in the morning to placate her disappointed daughter. It went like so: "Dear Macey, I'm sorry I didn't take your tooth late last night--I feel just awful about my oversight. The Tooth Fairy Queen said, 'Make up for her trouble. Go over there and pay Macey DOUBLE!' I love you Macey! From, the Tooth Fairy." Luckily, the Tooth Fairy incident didn't occur in 2009. We would have been ewed-SCRAY.
3. While book browsing Chancho yells, "Mom! Looooook! Twilight!"
4. From Netflix: "You recently watched: Thomas--Kipper--Kipper--Thomas--Arthur--Thomas--Kipper...."
5. Dinner: watermelon and birthday cake.



Seven things I'm grateful for:
1. My brother married a girl who looks as cute as her name (Elizabeth Jane). One day I'll meet her.
2. Even though I don't get to use it as much I'd like, I have a bed to sleep in.
3. My car may smell like a Dumpster, but I have a car.
4. Even though they're itchy, I'm glad I have earlobes because my ears would look incomplete without them.
5. My kids, even though they are expensive and hog the laptop.
6. DJ is always working because he has a job.
7. I live in Nashville, but at least I'm alive.

I'm out.

I'm done with the blog. It has served its purpose.

I'm done with facebook. It has served its purpose.

I'm done with email. Texting. All of it.

I've done with my only connection with the world being through a fifteen inch screen and "comments."

If you want to talk to me, you can call me or come visit. I want to either see your face or hear your voice.

That's all. It's been a good run.

Peace out.

Brain (junk) Food

I was tagged. My sister tagged me in a blog game. I have so many people to thank for this award... Meegan, for providing this opportunity to share useless information about myself with the entire Internet; and myself, for being *just* narcissistic enough to think that people will care.

Let's proceed.

Last five things I watched:

Brian Regan: Standing Up ("He don't need us. He happened upon an essentials kit!")

Mrs. Winterbourne (Was there ever a couple more ill-matched than Brendan Frasier and Ricki Lake? Maybe if Taylor Lautner and Supreme Court Justice Sotomayor got together.)

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (It's part of a program I'm doing to overcome irrational childhood fears. After watching it, a thought occurred to me: Perhaps being afraid of an armored, clawed creature crawling into your brain and chewing away your free will isn't that irrational.)

Fletch Lives (I'm a closet Chevy Chase fan. I didn't realize it until DJ pointed it out. More Chevy goodness: Fletch, Funny Farm, Seems Like Old Times, and the lesser known Follow That Bird.)

Yellowstone: Battle for Life (More irrational fear therapy. I'm still afraid of snow, subterranean magma bodies, and buffalo.)


Last five songs I listened to (or, "Songs That Make Me Feel Like a Superhero When I Run"):

"Magic Carpet Ride" Steppenwolf (The sonar pings take me back to my LSD days.)
"Sunshine of Your Love" Cream
"Today is the Greatest" Smashing Pumpkins
"Short Skirt/Long Jacket" Cake (Is there really such a thing as a Chrysler LeBaron?)
"Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" Michael Jackson


Last five books I read:

City of Ember, Jeanne DuPrau (I detected a vague anti-capitalist, atheist, vegetarian, tree-hugging, vote-for-Obama theme. It's a fun story, though.)

People of the Book, Geraldine Brooks (This author is talented and yet annoying. She writes well, but she relies heavily on sensational, shocking anecdotes. Surprisingly, she's also a journalist.)

Return to Red Castle, Dorothy Keddington (Mmm...mountain man chest hair...)

I read three books at once, I can't remember which one I finished first. Consequently, we have a tie for last place:

Year of Wonders, Geraldine Brooks (Shocking Stories, Plague Version. Beautifully written. Incredibly bizarre ending. It was like eating a warm slice of cherry pie, and when you take the last bite it turns to meatloaf in your mouth. What the devil?!)

Book of a Thousand Days, Shannon Hale (I loved this story.)

As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner (What? How did this make the list? I thought I checked out this book, took it to the park so that I'd appear intelligent, chased my children all over Minneapolis, and never got past page three.)

Now you know all of the junk I've pumped into my brain the last few weeks. Now, the fun part. I tag....
Mom
Jenn
Marie
...and...
Tawny

GO!

Too Wonderful For Anybody to Realize You

The thing about children is that they grow up too quickly (and they'll laugh at anything).

One minute you're snorting up their Newborn Head Scent in the hospital, the next minute you're sending them out into the cold, cruel world wearing a cartoon backpack that's bigger than they are.

I dropped Olivia and Macey off for their first day of school this morning at 7:15.

[I'm not going to complain about how early school starts here. Not complaining, not complaining, not complaining...GAH! School starts at SEVEN FIFTEEN A.M. in Tennessee! I live 1.6 miles from the school (it's on my running route, I've clocked it) and the bus picks them up at 6:15! Yeah, SIX. FIFTEEN. It is cruel and unusual.]

Aren't they darling in their little collared shirts* and skorts? You know what I don't get about that angel statue? What is the school trying to communicate by placing this in their garden? School sucks so bad, even the angels hate it? I bet they stole that statue from a mortuary.
I think I will sneak over there tonight, ninja kick their statue over and replace it with a statue of something a little more appropriate. Like a statue of this:Anyway. After walking the girls to their classes I made a mad dash to my car so that no one would see me crying like a total DORK. That's also when I started thinking about Thornton Wilder.

Warning: I am about to commence a philosophical tangent. You can tell by the italics and parentheses.

(Have you guys ever seen or read Our Town by Thornton Wilder? If not, put it in your queue of things to read. Don't worry, it's short. I won't ruin the ending for you like I ruined Inception. However, in the story one of the main characters (who has died) comes to a realization that no one appreciates life while they are living it. She says:

"I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back — up the hill — to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look. Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by Grover's Corners...Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking...and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. ...Do human beings ever realize life while they live it? — Every, every minute?"

Sometimes trying to enjoy the simple things feels like trying to eat ice cream while you're brushing your teeth. Trying to read to Chancho, but I have to fold laundry. Trying to play with Macey before she's too old to want to, but I have to fill out this paperwork. Trying to call my parents, but I need to cook dinner. Why does life pass by so quickly? It's painful. )

Resume the usual foolishness.

Um, I guess that was all I had for today.

The end.

No, wait! I have some more foolishness up my sleeve!

*Collared shirts! They are mandatory at my girls' new school. They aren't allowed to wear t-shirts (or flip flops, by the way). At first I thought, "Laaaaaaame," because I'm really articulate in my brain. And then I thought, "I should be grateful that they have a dress code in Tennessee." And then I saw what Olivia's teacher was wearing:

Un. Fair. And Laaaaaaaaaaaaame. I didn't say anything to my kids because I try not to infect them with my surly, rebellious attitude. And then Macey came home and reported that her teacher was wearing a tank top. (Gasp!) Her first lesson learned in first grade: Adults can do WHATEVER THE HE** THEY WANT.

Really The End.

Is it Photography Phriday already?!

I am such a good mom. Prepare to be amazed.

Sometimes I let my kids' fingernails get so long that if they needed to defend themselves against angry ninjas and/or high school cheerleaders they'd have the upper hand. If they ever go to high school in ancient Japan they'll be all set.

Sometimes I let my kids fall asleep watching DVDs on the couch and instead of moving them to their bed I laugh at them and get my camera.

Sometimes I let Tess hide in the cupboard. It's her hideout; who am I to begrudge her of her hideout? She has popcorn. She has oxygen. She's fine.

Sometimes I make macaroni and cheese with hotdogs for dinner.

Sometimes I sing along with the radio at the top of my lungs for them. The other day I was singing "Devil Went Down to Georgia" and they kept saying, "Mom, you don't have to sing for us. Please stop," and I was like, "I do it because I love you...and the devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said 'boy lemme tell you what!'"

Sometimes I intervene when I hear Macey and Olivia having a "Nuh-UH!" "Yuh-HUH!" "NUH-UH!" "YUH-HUH!" argument. Sometimes I don't, though, when the subject they are debating is too controversial, like whose turn it is to have the front of the bathtub or the gender of their toys.

See? I'm such a good mom.

P.S. Happy Photography Phriday.

A Dweam Within a Dweam...

Yesterday was my seventh anniversary. I suppose it was DJ's anniversary, too. We celebrated by going to the big city and gawking at all of the weirdos. In addition to gawking we ate at a restaurant where our server was an enormous fellow with a goatee whose eyes were hidden beneath his bangs. I only understood every third word that he said. He may have been the Dread Pirate Roberts.

I was craving meat and not feeling very ladylike so I ordered a big steak and ate it in two bites. (I'm in the middle of formulating a new conspiracy theory, by the way. Is it mysterious to anyone else that when you request A-1 sauce in a restaurant, the bottle always has precisely one tablespoon of sauce left in it? Mysterious. Or not.)

Anyway.

DJ ate a slab of ribs and shared some with me because he's a nice guy and I threatened him like, "GIVE ME YOUR RIBS, TINY!" (Was it wrong of me to demand a rib from my husband? I have to menstruate, he can share his ribs. Adam shared his. And can I say "menstruate" on a family blog?)

After the carnage we strolled hand in hand down Broadway, which is like the Vegas strip but with a trashy honky tonk theme. It was there that I met Elvis. I refused to kiss him on the cheek because there was still lipstick there from the last dorky tourist and I didn't want to get mono from Fake Elvis On Wheels. And then DJ kicked Fake Elvis in the nards. (Can you say the word "nards" on a family blog? I think I just did.)

And then we saw Inception which was very good and appropriate because, as we all know, marriage is a "dweam within a dweam" and nothing says "Romantic Anniversary Date" like Leonardo DiCaprio re-killing his dead wife.