Friday, September 28, 2007

FUNNEL CAKES AND JUMPIE THINGS

The North Georgia Fair is in town. Our Friday night is booked baby. I got ta hunt up the sh*t kickers. Haven't worn 'em yet this season. Traditionally the fair is the first time to pull out the cowboy boots. The boys, all three of them - one big and two littles - will have to wear camo on some part of their body, else people on the midway'll thank we're uppity. Cain't have nunn uv it.

Naayow the exhibits'll be first, eeeeein aaaaaawl the fleurs'll be hunkered over dayedd beeins its the third day of the competishun. The leaves'll be crispy and brown, an all the first and second place ribbons will-a been yanked off the winnin' displays by the monster no-count yung-uns what their monster no-count parents is off drinkin' at the nickel-suds ring toss. Where'dja winnat ribbon, Chesterjunior? At the whuuuut? The PETTIN zoo?!!! They give 'em for whuuut? They do not. Do not. Do NOT! Ches Ter Ju UHhhh They do NOT. Give ribbons. For ridin'. A dayum GOAT backers now go git me another Buuuuuuuuuud gooseneckkkk.

Fortunately for us our kids have taken field trips in school earlier in the week to see the exhibit hall and the petting zoo. We can skip that side of the fair tonight and go STRAIGHT for the animal shows, the funnel cakes, corn dogs, cotton candy, and various and sundry other delights known only at the fall county fair. We'll come home coated with a film of fair dirt, sticky midway ashphalt, overstimulated, smelling of beer, overfilled garbage cans, and totally thrilled with the whole experience. It's a once a year experience. That's a good thing. ;- )

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

I DON'T CARE, cuz - LOOOOOKIE, I HAVE NEW SHOOOOOOOOES!!!!!

Great icebreaker when there's a looming, imminent or critical problem and no one knows what to say, do, think. I say it in my Marilyn Monroe voice. Used to use the Anna Nicole voice but now, as you may imagine. . . . not humorous.

That trick requires the physical comedy that would accompany such a Marilyn comment in order to make it funny. To make it work. Something like, ohhhhh, maybe a little back foot kick - just from the knee, simultaneously with a 'throw your hands up, palms open' gesture, elbows tight to your bod, as if you were surprised or something. The cherry on top is to roll your eyes up and to the left while cocking your head the same direction and fairly sing the last word (shooooooooooes!) about an octave higher than you spoke the rest of the trick icebreaking sentence.

Guaranteed for a huge laugh. Totally relieves the tension of the moment with its inappropriateness. Used to use it when I worked - sometimes I would come back from lunch and immediately get pulled into a meeting (really - pulled) that had reached critical mass in a short period of time, fueled also by the fact that no one in the meeting had eaten, but had meeting-marathoned from 8:00am until ohhhhhhh 1:00pm and still . . . customer(or boss, take your pick)-not-happy. So I get dragged in. More ways than one.

Here's the problem!!!

I still have bags in both hands from shopping at lunch. My LUNCH is actually in one hand. Haven't eaten it yet. Guess whut's in the other hand. Yup.

Ohhhhhh nnnnnnnooooooo. Well. Hmm. I don't care, cuz - LOOKIE, I HAVE NNNNNNEWWWWWWWW SHOOOOOOOOOES!! whereupon I would fling open the top of my new shoe box to reveal the most luscious new pair of Bruno Maglis, which were ALL the rage at the time. Women gasped. Men froze. There was a pregnant pause, then laughter broke out. My job was done.

Remember in psychology class, a hundred or so years ago, when you had to learn about fight or flight and whether we were the type personality that dealt with issues straight on or ran away from them? That's laying it out on the table, but that's about the size of it, ittn it? Guess which one I am.....doh!!
So anywaysidoats, I'm noticing more and more that my kids are learning the careful and cheezy art of diversion. Now whether this means they're flights, in the fight or flight choice, or whether it just means they're trying to dupe their ol' goofy Mom and make life easier on themselves remains to be seen but I have my idears.

Hey Pooh Bear, weren't you s'posed to vacuum the car out before you went outside to play?

"What? I couldn't hear you. Oh hey Mom guess what! The homework from yesterday? Every SINGLE one correct. Hey you helped me with that, 'member? Cool, huh. 'Kay, you're comin' to eat lunch with me tomorrow, right? Cuz the Brother QUIT! other kids were askin'. And OH by the way, I have to STOP IT! I'M GONNA HURT YOU. have $14 for the Performing Arts field trip next week. MmmmmMmMMMMmm, that's GOOD. What is it? Is that dinner? Anyway, ok, I'm goin' outside now."

Uhhhhh, Button, nice try, but go vacuum the car then you can go outside.

Huh? Can't hear you, I'm outside!

This would go on for hours if I let it, presumably. I call it brain drain. Starts the second their feet hit the ground off the school bus in the afternoon and I'm convinced it wouldn't stop until they're asleep at night. And I have to admit that sometimes I get duped! They're soooooo proud when they pull one over on me, but here's the irony. It takes more energy and time on their parts (and more angst all around) for them to go to all this trouble to get out of stuff, then if they'd just go ahead and get the job done.

Now how long have mothers been saying that? Which just goes to show that it's not just the job they're trying to get out of - it's us they're trying to get the better of. So good for them when they win one every now and then.

Ohhhhhhh, well. Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you. I don't care - cuz I got new SHOOOOOOOOOES!!!!!

ttfn

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

IT'S HIS PARTY AND I'LL CRY CAUZ I NEED TO. . . .


Cry cauz I need to,
CRY-YY cauz I need to,
You would cry too if this baby grew up on youuuu!!!





WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

He's not a baby anymorrrreee, look at himmmmm oh my gosh he might as well be a MAN but look how happy.

I'm a big bag of whiny mush. He's turning double digits. Ten. Ten years old. He's been practicing how to say it.

I'm ten.

I'm ten years old.

Ten.

Ten years.

Ummmmm, ten? Yeah.

Hmm? Oh. Ten.


Here's what his heart is saying.

I AM TEN YEARS OLD, WOOOO HOOOOOO!!!!

He's one of the oldest kids in his class. Usually THE oldest but this year one kid beat him to the punch. It's one of his big deals, and this year? the kid that beat him out? GIRL. Oh yeah. He's suffering. Well. Mom's coming with Toll House Cookies at lunchtime. That'll kick him up a k-notch-ie or three, so he thinks. Last night at bedtime we're lying in his bed he has the best bed in the house I said Pook how many kids in your class now? and he said twenty, do you think you could make twenty THREE cookies? I said what are you KIDDING me I'm making sixty three. Turned to him and winked and gave him a squeezie. He turned over and we spooned a minute before I kissed him and turned off his lamp and snuck out of his bedroom. He was already snoring.