I’ve been spring cleaning the garage (okay, for the last 15 years, but who’s counting?) and, as it turns out, I’m also a little behind on updating my kids’ baby books.
This is where you ask me, “So, how far behind are you?”
Seems, my last entry was in 2002, when my youngest daughter took her first steps at 10 months-old.
Hope is turning 10 years-old, in June.
However, I started blogging in 2003 and have been consistently posting my family’s milestones, since then, so, there’s that, right?
[sound of crickets chirping]
Like, yesterday was my husband, Garth’s (not his real name) birthday, just don’t ask me which one (I quit counting sometime around 2004) since, you know, in the end, it’s not the years that count, it’s the mileage, right?
[welcome to cricketcon'11]
So, while Garth (not his real name) and I were out trolling our favorite garden center, yesterday (stupid rain) Hope made this birthday card for her father — HAH!
Our 12-year-old son made him this one and not only does he have his father’s sense of humor (28 my left foot!) Glen also appreciates the value of money and its depreciating effects on one’s bank account…DAMMIT.
My 15-year-old, however, seems to have inherited her Hungarian grandmother’s affinity for making people cry…especially, on their birthday.
My 17-year-old daughter drew this brilliant caricature of her father (HAH!) and, now that I blogged about it, I can reflect back and remember what my husband looks like (stupid extended banking hours) also, after uploading the pic, I just noticed that she signs her name to look like a butterfly, too.
I just love that!
“Honey, do you remember when we bought the water heater?”
In fact, I recently found myself referring back to my blog’s archives for non-fluff and totally tax related purposes, only.
I am a BIG believer in Karma — put it out there, you'll get it back and all that jazz — whatever, it's just a simple way of keeping my good vs. less than gooder side in check.
Unless, it's April Fool's Day and, well, then, all bets are off.
ME: Uh, we got about 4 inches of snow last night, but schools haven't called, so you might want to change into something a little warmer.
17 yo: Are you kidding me?!?
15 yo: You mean, I shaved my legs for nothing?!?
ME: Yes, I'm kidding.
15 yo: PHEW!
17 yo: You mean, there's no school?
ME: No, I mean it didn't really snow last night!!!
[eyes go wide]
HAH, APRIL FOOLS!!!!!
Snort. Cough. Wipes eyes.
Now, I totally understand how those with younger children would probably not think this to be very funny.
I merely considered pulling this same gag on my two youngest, for a fleeting moment, but thought better of it, for fear of being thrown into a whole other sort of purgatory and, trust me, you don't want any of that.
Also, wouldn't have worked as well with those of you living in an area where, you know, it's actually snowing.
GARTH (NOT HIS REAL NAME): You might want to warm your car up, it's snowing.
[eyes go wide]
If, however, you have teenagers, Garth (not his real name) or I will be more than happy to save you a seat!
Exhibit A: Came home to find the cat’s dish and cereal bowls neatly stacked in the living room.
Exhibit B: Where they were when I left the house, this morning.
Exhibit C: Doofus-Dawg avoiding eye contact which, clearly, is an indication that he’s got something to hide….not to mention, he can reach the sink AND the stove…PINHEAD!!!
Truth be told, the fact that he neatly stacked the bowls, when he was done…you know…cleaning them…is sort of freaking me out…okay, more than just a little…or, maybe we have ghosts.
Either way, I wonder what it will take to get them to fold the laundry?
Since, you know, I can’t get my kids to understand that the dish washer is dirty….DAMMIT!
On the other hand, I could just let the dog take care of it, seeing as he doesn’t seem to mind licking the floors and vacuuming the crumbs off the carpets, either.
Quite frankly, I try not to read into stuff…too much…because, well, with 2 teens and 2 tweens in the house (yeah, I know, right?) my head hurts enough, already.
Like most of my mom friends — especially, those of us raising a bunch of raging hormones, that walk and talk, but refuse to tell you ANYTHING and dang if a person couldn’t go blind, rolling their eyes like that — I have become somewhat of an expert at dodging emotional grenades.
Until, one of my kids drops the h-bomb.
“I hate my life.”
It doesn’t matter which kid says it, really, because the sad truth of it is, each of them have said it, at least once and did I mention my youngest is 9?
“Don’t you dare slam that…”
SLAM!
She’s got a wicked arm, that one, which reminds me, I should really look into signing her up for softball.
What?
I mean, she is the youngest and, well, empathizing with a mom friend, whose daughter recently turned hormonal, “Welcome to the dark ages.”
I quickly reassured my friend that the black cloud will indeed lift, around the time our kids turn 12.
[knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]
I didn’t bother mentioning the fact that they then become teenagers, because, heck, what do I know and the poor woman looked as if she needed a Tylenol, already.
SLAM!
I’m not even sure that their bedroom door is going to hold up (related: all 3 share 1 bedroom, enough said!) it’s been a loooong week, you know?
Then, I walked into the den/laundry room (mostly, laundry room) and noticed the writing on the back door (Hope likes to make lists) and, well, I fully expected to find myself at the TOP of her s-list:
Live your life your way not how someone tells you how to live
There is a whole world everybody can see right in front of our faces
Our planets can be very interesting things. Like love is one of the most important things in life.
I have a dream that we will have peace in the world.
You can have fun one day. You don’t need a special electronic. Just be creative.
When the sun sets and rises it goes up and down almost like life. Sometimes life can get bumpy like a road.
Okay, I may not be the brightest crayon in the box (more like a dusty gray, really) but, DAYUM, if my kids aren’t trying to tell me something?
So, I thought it would be sort of fun to revisit them and see if, you know, stuff still works.
Blogged 2008: My beloved blow dryer I’ve had it so long, I don’t remember when I bought it, and I believe that blow dryers – sort of like, dogs – begin to take on the characteristics of their human counterparts.
TODAY: It’s a little dinged and gets overheated, sometimes (you’re welcome!) but it still works!!!
BLOGGED 2008: G.G.’s table. My mother-in-law gave us this telephone table. It belonged to her mother.
TODAY: Still have the itty-bitty chair, too, but I’ve since moved the violet to the kitchen (yes, it’s STILL alive…see?) because, this one time, during summer camp, I forgot to water it…then, over-watered it…and, well, you can’t see the BIG old water stain…can you?
BLOGGED 2008: Mr. Dyson’s Opus. What, doesn’t everyone name their housekeeping buddies? Oh, dear Mr. Dyson, how I love this vacuum cleaner.
TODAY: We set a place for him at the kitchen table.
BLOGGED 2008: G.G.’s Christmas Cactus. Another gift from my mother-in-law (because, she must really, really like me) this is a cutting from her father’s Christmas Cactus and is about a bazillion years old.
BLOGGED 2008: The Refrigerator. Yes, it’s still running and the very first appliance purchased for the house, when we moved in 15 years ago.
TODAY: 3 years and 2 refrigerators, later (dang, but some appliances break easy) we had to move the new one to the other side of the kitchen. I imagine we’ll need a new house for the next one…sheesh!
BLOGGED 2008: Creeping Charlie. Charlie’s not very happy with me, at the moment. Don’t know why, though. He’s got the whole corner, to himself.
TODAY: You are very sadly missed, Charlie.
BLOGGED 2008: China cabinet filled with pretties from Hungary. Because, I keep them ALL behind glass and Garth (not his real name) cleans it…’nuf said.
TODAY: He doesn’t clean it, anymore, either and I just tell everyone that it’s for philanthropic reasons, as we’re currently housing a colony of dust bunnies, rent free.
BLOGGED 2008: Sir FigNewton. Some of my best childhood memories are from trips visiting family in Hungary and picking fresh figs from my Uncle’s tree. It was HUGE and had a rope swing hanging from one of its branches. This one, not so much. I’ve always wanted a fig tree and finally bought a young plant, last spring.
TODAY: I planted it in our backyard, last summer. Then, it snowed…and snowed…and snowed…and, well, you know…it’s been a real tough winter…but, yes…it is STILL alive…that’s right…because, it’s a Jersey fig, bay-bee!
BLOGGED 2008: The cookie jar. We received this cookie jar on our wedding day…GULP…nearly 18 years ago. Yes, it’s still in one piece. Nope, not even a chip. I’m just as surprised as you are, believe me. After 4 kids, 2 cats…etc…etc…yep, this little jar has seen a LOT of action!
TODAY: Going on 21 years now and, well, none of us need to be eating any more danged cookies. So, I hid it in my pretend pantry…shhhhhh, but don’t tell Garth (not his real name) he doesn’t need to know…in fact, feel free to grab a cookie, or 20!!!
BLOGGED 2008: My sneakers. I bought these when The Boy started kindergarten and, trust me, they have seen a LOT of mileage. When doofus dog sees me putting these puppies on, he knows, it means maybe…just maybe…we are FINALLY going out for a walk!
TODAY: He’s just too danged tired to even care what I’m wearing, me either!
BLOGGED 2008: These are MY geraniums. All of these pots are from cuttings off of a plant I received after Thing One was born, 14 years ago.
TODAY: They’ve continued to bloom…more and more, every year…me, too.
Aaaand, lastly…but, certainly not least-ly…the Doofus-Dog. He’s lucky I haven’t killed him, yet.
TODAY: What, with that face? Besides, his faith in me is virtually unbreakable…no matter how much I may curse him…out loud.
Besides, if I really DID win the HGTV Dream Home, then, my friends, this post would never have happened.
I love this time of year, here in on the Jersey coast, when my kids and I feel very lucky to have quick access to some of the prettiest beaches, like our favorite at the Gateway National Recreation Area in Sandy Hook, NJ.
The parking lot fills up pretty quick in the summer. Friday, however, was the perfect day to celebrate all the good things that living in a shore town has to offer.
Like, exploring the jetty.
Or, playing chicken with the breakwater.
Getting lost, for hours, hunting for sea glass and mermaid toe nails.
Having the beach, all to ourselves, is a luxury and a perfect time for private contemplation.
Aaaand, much silliness.
Yes, Friday was a good day. In fact, seeing how this weekend is going, I'm still there…lalalalalalalalala!
In my pursuit to make blogging fun, again…seriously, check out my accent vlog, see if you think I tawk funny, I'm still waiting for Miss Zoot to do hers…ahem…I found out something very, very interesting.
[nonchalantly looks to the left, right, then left again]
So, I was reading about my friend Christine's (a.k.a. From Dates to Diapers) desire to win the #TypeACeleb Contest and she did this fun match your face to a celebrity thingy and, turns out, Christine looks a whole lot like Julia Roberts, only prettier (Christine, I mean, sorry Julia!)
Naturally, I was curious (i.e. desperately seeking an ego boost, as well) and thought I would try it, too.
Sooooo, I uploaded the most natural-looking picture of me, without makeup, which I also use on my social media platforms.
If anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs, googling local distributors for Bobbie Brown Cosmetics, cheap truck rentals and tips on ways to speed up the dry time for spackle.
Or, you could always tell me something nice, like, oh, I dunno, how much I do NOT look like Barry Williams, DAMMIT!!!
Weird thing (besides my loving grocery shopping) is I never used to like it and would much rather push an old-fashioned reel lawn mower through a field of sticky balls than have to spend half the day in a supermarket.
Now that my kids are older, well, I cannot run out of the house, or get to the grocery store, fast enough and not just because they eat stuff, all gone, without even being asked to, either.
"Where you going?"
It's nice to have kids old enough to not have to, or necessarily even want, to come with me, even if it's just to the grocery store, really it is.
"Food shopping."
Or, at least I thought.
"I want to come."
[heavy sigh]
"Me, too!"
Aaaand, not because they really, really, like me, either (trust me, I live with me, I know) still, I'm thinking, it's nice outside, the sun is shining, the grass is, uh, really wet, meh, why not, right?
Later.
"Here…why don't you guys go and buy a donut, or something!"
[eyes go wide]
"Don't worry, I'll find you."
The shopping trip was taking much longer than I expected — not to mention, more expensive by the minute — and, well, I just needed a moment to regroup and build up enough strength to get through the meat aisle.
"Can we have tacos, tonight?"
Another thing about having older kids…eventually, they WILL find you…first…no matter how hard you try to hide.
"Oh, WOW, not for what they want for their chopped meat!"
Good thing my kids like pasta, a lot.
"I'll be right back!"
My youngest (she's 9) has this habit of not having to explain herself, to me, because, clearly, I am psychic.
"I'll go with her!"
Ah, the joys of older kids.
"Okay, I'm almost done here."
Much later.
"I'm sorry, mom, but I couldn't stop her in time."
Oh, and one more thing about older kids, they sort of just show up, out of nowhere, and love to give me mini-heart attacks.
"What did you do?"
I put the last of the bags into our cart, when the child lifts her chin up from off her chest, bites her lower lip and announces in a clear voice, that she used the change from Dunkin' Donuts to buy one of those scratch-off lottery tickets.
"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT'S ILLEGAL!"
Honestly, I didn't know whether to laugh, or cry.
I mean, the lottery vending machine was right next to Redbox, which was right next to the bubble gum machines and, well, I guess the poor kid just really, really wanted tacos for dinner.
"She was too short to see the sign about being 18 and nobody was stopping her, either, mom."
That's because the kid was being real quiet about it and nobody ever notices a quiet kid, right?
This weekend, we were invited to stay with dear friends in Cape May where the kids and I got to hike through, up and over perhaps some of the biggest sand dunes, here, in Jersey!
The view from the top was breath-taking and totally worth the burning thighs and near-to-exploding ovaries (stupid midlife!) and, yet, the day was filled with bittersweet moments of regret, too.
I was sorry that my husband had to work (someone has too, right?) and missed our ode to Ralph Macchio.
Good thing my 15yo takes awesome photographs (not to mention, gives good glare) and, well, maybe I should just let her keep the frigalicious camera [one beat, two beats] naaaaah, I mean, really, learning how to share stuff is what we do best, here at Casa de Sticky Floors and Crunchy Feet.
This capture of my youngest daughter, however, made me realize just how GROWN these kids insist on, you know, growing.
Me, too. UGH! Then again, we hiked 4 miles on this day. Besides, after 17 years of raising kids and killer dust bunnies, well, life has a way of catching up on a person, everywhere.
Sort of like this cool light bulb I found; a little grazed on top and all rusty on the bottom (you’re welcome!)
Yes, alright, I admit it, I’m old(ish) slightly overdone and perhaps a wee bit passed my freshness date, than your average blogging mom…I mean.
[borrows glare from 15yo]
I am, however, also very happy (AM SO!) especially, since the kids and I seem to be able to enjoy each others company.
Dare I say, even a little more, now, than when they were babies, maybe, because I’m not so worried about counting heads, or chasing after them, at the beach?
Aaaaand, okay, maybe my baby days ARE over (light bulb, rusted) but, my job, here, is far from done, my friend, and well, I’m just glad I remembered to pack my comfy sneakers.
And, maybe a snack…also, a cell phone…so, I can google the nearest bathroom…stupid beach, dumbass bladder!
If you were to ask me to sum up this entire winter, using just one color, I would paint you a less than prettiful picture and describe the feeling as being similar to the consistency of pea soup.
Seems like we’ve had a sick kid in the house, every weekend, since Christmas break and maybe because, you know…we have…had a sick kid…in the house…since Christmas break.
This week, it was my youngest’s turn (she’s 9) which, considering she is the youngest (i.e. been there, done that, easily entertained) a case of strep throat doesn’t sound like such a big deal, really.
Unless, she is the kid who NEVER gets sick.
Aaaand, then, she’ll spike fevers (always at night) and nearly drown in her own mucus (ditto) thick enough to plaster the walls, twice, to the extent where I am actually afraid of leaving her alone, or even bother with getting dressed.
“I’m bored!”
“Why don’t you paint something?”
“But, I can’t find a paint brush.”
Then, finally, a glimpse of normality and, well, although our lives are not always perfect (okay, more like never) and I won’t be voted the bestest, most craftiest mom, anytime soon (if, ever) I can at least try and focus on the beauty of simple, little things, again, or today, anyways.
Like, being thankful that I did NOT throw away that old glass vase…afterall.
Or, this one. Even if we still can’t find a dagnab paint brush, to save my gosh-darned life…dagnabit!
