My Pet Peeve

I am a consummate devil's advocate. Any time someone makes what I deem to be a judgemental statement, my default reaction is to justify/defend whoever is being judged. I hate Judgey McJudgerson's and I judge them out of spite.*

Remember when you were little and people used to say, "It's a free country?" People would use that excuse to cover over whatever abhorrently childish behavior they had just completed. I hated that phrase when I was a kid because it was basically used to convey the attitude that there are no rules for proper etiquette and treatment of other humans.

Now, I wish some of those little brats would remember those sage words. Or others like, "Live and let live," or "Judge not, lest ye be judged," by Jessi.**

The current crop of judgers inspiring my ire are grocery store clerks. I'm not sure when we passed the mark between pleasantries and commentary on my purchases, but I'm over it.

This has been a bad week. For a myriad of reasons that I am not going to get into. So, last night when I was trying to pack two lunches for Brynna and discovered I only had enough supplies for one, I was sort of just grateful for that. I'm not sure how we managed to run out of everything but turkey Bologna but we sure did. So, today over my lunch, I took my little ten dollar bill and ran to the store. I picked up a Lunchable for her to take tomorrow.

This one had sandwich stuff, applesauce, cookies and a tiny water bottle with an optional Kool-Ade packet.
I know this isn't exactly health food. For one thing, to make this stuff shelf stable, they add a ton of sodium. I also know, however, that in a five minute trip to the store, I could have done a lot worse. I also-also know that this is a rare occurrence. We very, very seldom get lunchables and as far as treats go, this is right up there with a Snickers bar and a Big Red.

Since I didn't have lunch for myself either, I picked up a second one (along with a Coke, because, yo - caffeine) and headed for the check-out. As I was waiting my turn in the express lane, I was reading the contents and marvelling at how they though of everything, including a nifty little red spoon for the applesauce.

"Reading what's in there?" the checker inquired while reaching for my contents.

"Yeah," I retorted - witty as always.

"Do you really want to know? Cause it's nothing good. Especially for kids. People think these are so great for kids," was her lighthearted and skippy reply.

Now, you may think that we have a crap-food crisis in our midst. You may even look at my overweight frame and assume that I am raising my children on nothing but Nilla wafers and sodey-pop. You may think that someone should intervene. But here's the deal: 1. You, oh-wise-grocery-store-checker are not that someone; 2. You have no proof that this is anything but an occasional treat - in fact, by my befuddled contents reading and the fact that I was only purchasing two, I think it's more likely an occasional treat and 3. Mind your own freakin' business.

I don't know why this has bothered me as much as it has. I'll be over it the moment that Brynna sees what I've done and proclaims me mommy of the year. I think it's just the audacity of it. Why does everyone assume that I want their opinion anyway? And why should your judgement mean more to me than my own? Am I really supposed to be that hung up on what other people think? Especially people I don't know?

Just a bee in my bonnet this fun and frilly Thursday afternoon. Enjoy the buzzing.

*If you are thinking that this makes me no better, well, you may be right. But whatever. I'm still doing it and you can't stop me.


** Meaning that I will judge you, not that the quote is by me. The quote is obvs by Jesus, who I suppose will judge me for judging the judgers. But then He'll probably laugh about it and accept that I was trying to do the right thing.

The Vocabulary Monster

I am rather proud of my vocabulary. I try not to show it off because there always seems to be someone there to mock me. However, I love words and use a lot of 'em.

I heard somewhere that the average vocabulary now is a third of the size it was 100 years ago. I'm not even sure if that's true, but I thought about it a great deal. First, I thought about how lazy we've all gotten with our vocabulary lately. I'm not talking about slang (which some find lazy, but I find fascinating) but rather words like "very," "bad," "good," and "okay." There's nothing wrong with any of those words, but we have come to use them so copiously and without regard to meaning variegation.

Then, I thought about medical terminology and technical terminology. In the past century, we have made up thousands of words, everything from text (as a verb) to skype; from radar to sonar and from chemotherapy to ultrasound. Most people are conversant with those terms and myriad others. When you factor in the vocabulary that has been gained during this period, it only compounds what we must have lost.


Frankly, I'm not worried about my vocabulary. I think mine is peachy keen and fancy enough for everyday. I was talking to someone the other day and they were looking for a word: "Ebullient," I supplied. In return I received a blank stare. But I am worried for the vocabularies of my kids.

I don't talk babytalk to my kids, but we do have household names for certain things: Kool-Ade is "drinky," my favorite blanket is "bankie," Spiderman is "PideyMan," shampoo is "shampoozle," and sour cream is "schleam." It's our household culture. Our own language. A few days ago, with cold sweat running down my back, I casually asked Brynna, "What's the real word for schleam?" After the most infuriatingly adolescent look you can imagine, Brynna replied, "Sour cream. I would never call it schleam at school." Which is, of course, what I wanted to know. That kid is insightful.

Maren is still learning that drinky is pretty narrowly defined and does not cover other drinkable liquids. Or that most of the world doesn't giggle maniacally whenever you say shampoozle. It's okay, she'll get there. But with our "special" vocabulary and the entire world around them forgetting words right and left. I can't help but feel like there may be a war going on behind the scenes.

And because I believe that in all things, we lead best by example, I am trying to use some more of my vocabulary in their presence. I hope it works.

On the other hand, perhaps it's just one more thing to panic about. Or even a made up statistic. I understand that 97 per cent of them are.

Making a List

There are many shades of nueroses in this world. I have more than seven, myself. However, my favorite one right now is the list-making-crazy. I am the queen of the list. Not because I am oh-so-productive or organized. But just because it soothes my soul.

I have a whole notebook full of lists.

• Grocery lists. 
• Cleaning lists
• Redecorating project lists
• Lists of clothing items the girls need each season
• Packing lists
• To do lists
• Craft project lists

I can't explain to you the peace that I find in making a list. Not just because it makes my head feel organized, but also because it makes me feel like any job in the world is managable. It's simply a matter of getting it all in a list. 

I hold onto my lists and add and check things off and rearrange them and prioritize them. I'm currently working on three or four lists that are sort of long term project lists and need to be tweaked before they are "finalized." Of course, the glory of a list, the beauty is that they are never truly finished. There's always something to add, take away, check off, move around or forget about completely. They are fluid. And yet still somehow solid and concrete. 

You can hold onto a list, mark your progress. Monitor your results. But at the same time, a list never moves beyond the realm of a working document. 

So what about you? Are you a list maker? Are you horrified by my waxing poetic about lists?

The Bug

When we lived in our little house in town, we painted the great room and hallway bright, sunshiney yellow. I wanted a yellow that woke you up, that made you happy forcibly and that said, "Look at us, we are sooo cheery!" There were a lot of exclamation points in that yellow. (Figuratively. We didn't actually paint exclamation points on the wall, although...)

We lived with that color for a little more than three years. I loved it. Right up until I hated it. And it was sudden. One night, The Husband and I were having a fight. I don't even remember what we were fighting about, but we were fighting. We finally reached a peace and were sitting quietly watching TV. Except. When he looked over at me, I had a monumental scowl plastered across my face. Wondering if maybe the fight was back on, he mustered his most innocent voice and asked what was wrong.

This is where our accounts vary. In his version, I growled, "I HATE this yellow." My version leaves me sounding only slightly more ladylike. In any case, my tolerant husband whisked me to a home improvement wonderland where we picked up about 7,000 paint chips, which we taped around our living room for a week while I made up my mind.

My mind settled on Gypsy Rose and Pine Needle. And how I adore those colors. In fact, I love them so much that when we moved, I painted the new living room in the same exact shades. (If you knew me, you would know what a big deal this truly is. I'm a little paint happy.)

When we bought this house, I took that opportunity to redo just about everything except the living room. The only rooms that were spared my roller and edge brush were the bathroom (which is my favorite color on the planet) and the kitchen which is... well... not. (See, I bought my house from my mom so I'm really insulting her tastes here, but I'm trying to forge ahead.)

The kitchen is blue. Blue and gray floors, blue and gray and tan countertops and blue walls. Lots of blue. To make a few changes on a budget, I added in a lot of chocolate brown when I moved in, so I have that going on, which has tempered the blue. Also, the base cabinets are white and the top cabinets are stained wood and kinda 70's looking. This was not anyone's design choice, so don't look at my mom that way.

Anyway, I've been bitten by that same bug that growled about the yellow walls. (Not that I'm admitting to growling.) I want to redo the "shared" spaces in my house in the "farmhouse" style. Leaving the girls' rooms as they are, I want to make the rest of house have a continuous theme and feel. And I want to start in the kitchen. This is going to (by financial necessity) be sort of a one-project-at-a-time kind of thing. And I'm going to be looking at cheap, cosmetic fixes, not a total rehaul to my kitchen. As much as I would like to buy vintage appliances and get concrete counter tops, it just ain't happnin'.

The problem is that I have so much I want to accomplish and I don't know where to start. I have to make changes in a way that the kitchen never looks too crazy, because I'm having my annual influx of company October/November/December and I won't be done by then, so I'd like it to look like people live there. People who aren't into industrial deconstructed or small bomb making in the kitchen.

What I really want to do right now is paint my top cabinets. All I need is a color scheme and I can get started.

Which is what all this rambling comes down to. I need your help, blogosphere. (Although I reserve the right to  completely and totally ignore all your sage advice and do my own thing. /disclaimer) Keeping in mind that I am going to have to keep the blue floor and counter tops at the very least for the short term, I need two paint colors - one for my walls and one for my cabinets.

A few notes for your consideration:

• I like my kitchens light and airy, not dark and pubby. 
• I'd really like to work in barn red somewhere, although I could use that for a pop color if needed.
• I am allergic to most neutrals, but love all things brown. Not tan or cream or beige (blech) but good and truly brown.
• My "art" in my kitchen is antique and faux antique Coca-Cola advertisements. My favorites are the ladies, but I also love the farm scenes. I've always thought the idea of bottle green would be nice for my Coke stuff, but have never figured out how to do this, since bottle green doesn't translate well to opaque. 

So, there you have it world. Give me colors!

Five Things on Friday - Vampire Boyfriend Edition

Have you seen, My Babysitter's a Vampire? The answer, unless your house is inundated with 6-11 year olds, is probably no. It's a Disney Chanel movie along the lines of the far superior Adventures in Babysitting, with the added twist that the very cool, pretty high school babysitter gettin' the kids into all kinds of shenanigans is a vampire. Also, the two kids who are clearly too old for babysitting have some undiscovered supernatural powers.

Anyway, the movie must have been pretty popular, because they are turning it into a weekly series. Can I tell you who is bouncing off the walls with excitement over this? Me? Well, okay. Who else?

Brynna cannot wait. And I, though I think this is going to be mediocre at best, am thrilled that Brynna and I can bond over supernatural storylines, vampire mythos and the special effects of dusting. I've been waiting for this moment since they laid her tiny little body in my arms for the first time.

In any case, amid announcements like, "I really like vampires, mommy," (could you just MELT or what) we've been discussing why vampires are sooo cool. Like cooler than zombies and werewolves and witches combined, according to Brynna.

I always thought it was a sex appeal thing, cause, you know... Vampires have got it going on. But, for a six year old to think they are so great has got me questioning my whole mentality on the subject. We've discussed that they are mysterious, they live forever, they are evil, but also kinda charming, etc, etc, etc. Of course, I can't discuss the whole beautiful thing with her, so that's where you, Oh Beloved Readers, come in.

My Five Favorite Vampire Boyfriends

This is just about the only picture
in creation where he's smiling.

1. Mitchell (Being Human) - I've mentioned Mitchell, right? I'm still in mourning for him. I can only hope that they manage to bring him back somehow. After he's done being in The Hobbit and all. What makes Mitchell such a wonderful vampire boyfriend is that he walks the fine line. He's a bad guy trying really hard to be good. He's not all bad and he's not mastered being good. He looses his temper and he eats someone. Or twenty someones in an underground train. You know how it goes. He's tortured by his past, but he is trying (and sometimes failing) to overcome it. He's held up by the love and support of his friends, but when he hides his murders from them, they become the enemy. That was, more than anything else, his tragic undoing. Excuse me while I weep profusely.

Looking ponderous. 

2. Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) - Like Mitchell, Spike is trying to do and be better. What sets them apart is Spike's reasoning. At the beginning of his journey, he really sees no reason to be good as opposed to being evil. He does it because after being implanted with a chip making it painful to hurt humans, he misses the violence. What's a wounded vampire to do, then? Fight monsters, obviously. And, of course, he discovers that he's pretty good at it. Seems like all those years with a railroad spike were wasted. After a little time fighting the good fight, though, he falls in love. Every move he makes from that moment on, is made out of love for Buffy. Even the dumb ones. Spike doesn't feel guilty, he's not remorseful, but he's going to do what it takes to get the woman he loves. And that is hot.

I think you can forgive the hair.
Based on it being 1987.

3. David (The Lost Boys) - And, we're done with the good vampires. (Sort of.) David is the baddest of the bad. The leader of the pack of nearly feral vampires roaming the streets of Santa Carla. (Which we all know, is pretty great except for all the damn vampires. So sayeth Grandpa.) David is a user of people and surrounds himself with mindless followers. Why is he so darn hot, then? Well, because he's Kiefer Sutherland, back when that meant something. Even though this is pretty much just a Corey vehicle, Kiefer is the one you remember, the one who sends chills up your spine. It's that smile. The one that's sort of amused that you are alive. Like he's watching a hamburger walk by.

It all started with
Veronica Mars.

4. Josef (Moonlight) - I'll forgive you if you missed this short-lived vampire PI series. Mostly, because pretty much everyone did. I watched it religiously. All 17 episodes. (What? That's like 4 more than Firefly.) Even though the series was about the Vampire PI, Mick, for me it was all about resident friend-but-still-pretty-evil Josef. He has figured out how to live the good life, surrounding himself with luxuries and women. I'll forgive him.

Plus, he just looks
like a vampire.

5. Silas (The Graveyard Book) - Alright, I'll address the problems first. 1. We don't specifically know that Silas is a vampire. We know that he only comes out at night, that he exists somewhere between the living and the dead and that he eats, but not the same food as Bod. I have decided in my mind he's a vampire. Please don't correct me. 2. I have basically fallen in love with a father figure from a children's book. Don't judge me. What I love about Silas is that you don't know if he is good or evil. He is certainly good to Bod and as a reader, isn't that what matters? But, what if he goes out every night and slaughters an entire sorority house? He could be, we really don't know. He is good or evil or both. He's mysterious and he cares for a lost little boy who lives in a graveyard. That's pretty much enough for me.

Okay, so if we can all just agree that vampires are hot: who is your favorite?

Quick Answers to Sarcastic Questions

Before we begin today, there are two things you should know about me. One is that I talk to myself... a lot. Like, a LOT, lot. Almost constantly when there's no one around and sometimes when there is someone around. I talk about a lot of things, but sometimes, I ask myself rhetorical questions. Which seems like an exercise in futility, but whatever, it's what I do.

The second thing is that I believe that each and every one of us has something that we are going to struggle with until we die. If you are a POF (person of faith) you might think of this as a sin that you have to work constantly to overcome. If you are not, then you probably think of it some other way. In any case, one in my bouquet of constant struggles is patience. I am not a patient person. I want what I want and I want it now. I am not inclined to wait for other people or for things to "fall into place." I do. Because that's life and you have to, but I am not inclined to is all I'm saying.

So, this morning, the kids were hellions. No one wanted to be more that four inches away from me at any given time. Brynna decided she wanted brownie bits for breakfast (?!?) and was going to beg until I gave in. Maren was mad because I didn't go the same way I usually go. Brynna was mad because it might rain on her pool day at camp. Maren was sad because the music was too loud. Brynna was upset because I wouldn't play "American Girls" by Counting Crows. And everyone was loud and whiney and harpy in the car. When I finally got to camp with Brynna and she started complaining about the ridiculous spray on sunscreen she begged me for yesterday, I thought my head would explode.

After getting out of the car, before Brynna opened her door, I muttered, "Remind me again why I had kids." I'm not used to anyone answering.

As soon as the words escaped my lips, Brynna's door slid open and she peeked out the gap. The wind was blowing and her hair flowed on the breeze. She tipped her face up into the wind and sighed a deep, contented sigh. Then she hopped out and we headed for the building.

After I had signed her in, kissed her head and wished her a good day with little to no rain, she took her backpack from me.

"Ugh. What did you put in this thing?!?" she asked to the giggles of other parents, staff and of course, me.

And that is why I had kids. Because for all the headachey mornings and miserable fights and whiney days, these shining moments of who my kids truly are, when it's all said and done: their beauty and grace and humor and intelligence; is more than enough. It's these moments that remind me not only of why I had kids, but of why I get up every day, why I got married, why I struggle with money and why I keep fighting the good fight. Because they, in all their moods, are worth it.

Do you remember that song, "Unanswered Prayers." If there is one thing better than unanswered prayers, it's immediately answered prayers.

Five Things on Friday - The People You Hate on Facebook

With roughly 1/3 of the entire American population and over 3/4 of my particular age bracket on Facebook, I think we can all agree that it's pretty much more than a very clever time suck. And it's not as easy to use as people think. I mean, it's easy to use, but apparently not correctly.

So, for the education of the masses, I present:

The Five People You Hate (and Don't Want to Be) on Facebook

1. Billy Mays - The consumate salesman, the one who never turns it off - Almost everyone I know works. They truly do. They work in a lot of different careers. Which means that some of them are salespeople (real estate, cars, etc) and some of them own their own businesses. While Facebook is certainly a great place to pitch these services, it should be a facet of your online personality, not the whole thing. Look at your wall. If there are more than three things about your business visible, you need to slow down. If you are trying to type out "the hard sell," you need to quit. Sure, mention what you do, post your new blog posts, let us know about sales you're running, etc. etc, but make sure that we can still see YOU in the middle of all that business. If you are failing at this, at least make a separate page from your business. I will totally "Like" it and then "Hide" it so I don't have to listen to you and can still not hurt your feelings.

2. Debbie Downer - Always sick, sad, lonely or unlucky - Everyone has bad days and there is possibly no better place to whine about that than on Facebook. It's fun to share your misery and instantly have a whole bevvy of people including your college boyfriend and your high school nemisis comfort you. It makes everything better, but like many things, a little goes a long way. Remember, people only see what you share, so if you are telling us about every little thing that goes wrong and never having a positive post, I'm either going to assume you are suicidal or I'm going to defriend your miserable butt. Take notice.

3. Pollyanna - Always looking at some imaginary bright side  - While slightly less annoying that Debbie up there, the Pollyanna never shows a crack in her happy-schmappy persona. Her joy over every little thing is only matched by her ability to find a silver lining to even natural disasters and rising death tolls. Here's the thing: I get that you want to be cheery, probably there are just too many Debbie Downer's in your life, but in the meantime you are wearing me out. Not everything is skippy. You don't look human. Also, you're making me feel guilty, so quit it. I've got enough to make me feel guilty about.

4. Rush Limbaugh - Politically minded, forceful and always on the attack - Here's the thing: You might think you know your friends, and maybe you do, but chances are, they don't all have the exact same opinions as you on every single issue. And while it's fine to post your opinions, don't expect everyone to agree. Remember, that if you post a political stance, you are opening yourself up for debate. Think of everything on Facebook as standing on stage at your high school reunion. Do you really want to engage all these people on abortion issues? Or health care? Or worse - start randomly insulting people for their beliefs? If the answer is yes, prepare to be unfriended, attacked back, hid and generally despised. Some people may agree with you, but even they will question your attack stance. Also, I'm probably not going to agree with you no matter what, it's just who I am.

5. Dan Brown - Vague, cryptic and otherwise mysterious - Whatever it is that you want to say without saying it, just say it. Or don't say, frankly I don't care. But all of those: "You know who you..." type posts are really cluttering up my life. If you need to say something privately, then say it privately, by private message or chat. But don't broadcast a message meant for a very few to everyone you know. For one thing, it's annoying, for another it makes you look petty and childish. I shouldn't have to crack the da Vinci code to read your posts. And I won't. If you make me try, I'll just post something ridiculous in reply.

Sooo... Who do you hate on Facebook. (Broad sweeping generalizations only, please.)

Fearless

This was where the face painting occurred.
My kitty and my peacock.

What I didn't tell you about yesterday was the Italian Festival. It's not like we planned it anyway. The glorious Newport Aquarium mentioned yesterday resides at the lovely and intoxicating Newport on the Levee, which is basically, the only mall on Earth I don't hate. They have a very cool movie theatre, nice restaurants, a comedy club, and of course, a levee. It's right by the Purple People Bridge, too.

So, there's usually some stuff going on there. This past weekend, it was an Italian Festival. I must admit that after wandering it for a while, I saw very little that qualified as Italian. There were margaritas, but I thought those were Mexican - what with the tequila and all. Bellinis would have made more sense.

In any case, it was a festival, so we wandered down to the levee and took a look around.

There was a long line of what I call "fair games." Which are usually not all that fair. Like popping balloons with darts and grabbing the magic rubber ducky. As we were strolling down the line toward the rides, a.k.a. all my kids were capable of seeing, the barkers yelled out to us, attempting to entice the gullible children into plunking down some of mommy's money. The last lady in line was manning one of those booths where you shoot the water from the gun into the clown's mouth.

"Sorry. I'm not very good at water games, but have a nice day!" called Brynna as we walked past. I was kinda shocked. Partially because Brynna is usually pretty shy, but partially because I am terrified of talking to those people. Because I'm afraid that I'll hurt their feelings if I say no or that they'll rope me into doing something I don't want to.

Afterward, she and my mother in law headed into the fun house, where, apparently fun was had.

While we were waiting, Maren was getting itchy to do something, and I spotted the Tilt-a-Whirl. Now, the Tilt-a-Whirl is by far my favorite ride ever. I love the Tilt-a-Whirl and I would ride it all day every day if given the chance. Which I am not. Ever. I haven't actually seen a Tilt-a-Whirl since High School. And actually, this wasn't strictly-speaking a Tilt-a-Whirl. The cars were shaped like strawberries and they went in a level circle instead of going up and down the hills. Maren met the height requirement, so on we hopped on.

She was anxious to get going and I kept having to assure her that the ride would go as soon as everyone was seated. (It was hot in that giant berry.) When the ride finally started moving, she looked at me excitedly and then with great disappointment.

"Is this all?" she asked.

"Nope." I responded. I started turning the table in the middle. For the unitiated, there is a small table in the middle of the berry which everyone sits around. It's basically a wheel. You turn it and the berry spins. You turn it faster and the berry spins faster. I can turn it pretty darn fast.

At one point, Maren fell over and her head was against my elbow. The centrifugal motion was so great she couldn't pick her head up. All the while, however, she was giggling in what can only really be considered a cackle and screaming "Faster, Faster!!"

We've seen this before with her. Her Uncle D took her on a four-wheeler ride up and down the drive a few weekends ago and her screams of faster-faster were all you could hear.

When she was little, I thought Brynna was fearless. She climbed higher than she should and did things that scared me, a fully grown adult. But, as she's gotten older, I've realized that Brynna has plenty of fears, mostly social in nature. She likes to go fast, but not nearly as fast as Maren.

Maren is afraid of heights. And she seems to be very hesitant of water. She's also leary of tight spaces. She is not afraid of speed, though. She is always screaming for things to go faster.

I know that should scare me. Having a little daredevil is a terrible thing on a mother's heart. But it actually delights me. I truly get a kick out of watching my kids stare down something that terrifies me (or anyone) and stick out their tongues. I love to see her shock the adults who think that she should be scared. I love to see Brynna chat conversationally with strangers (as long as there is a trusted adult there) even though I know that new things make her feel shy sometimes. I love to watch Brynna climb to the top of the highest play structure and for Maren to hang upside down on the monkey bars. Even though my chest gets tight just watching.

I am scared of so many things. I am scared of being alone. Of losing my girls. Of getting overwhelmed. Of going beyond broke into the magical land of poverty. Of forgetting how to write or losing my eyesight or any number of things. I have a feeling akin to terror whenever I log onto my bank account to check my balance. I guess I just love to see their freedom from the fears that I have. I hope they never lose that. I hope they are always, in their own ways, fearless.

A Primer to Killing Time in Kentucky

So - who missed me?

I mentioned there were kittens, right?
No, well, there was also kitten playing and kitten cuddling
and kitten napping which is the second best napping.

I had planned on blogging all through my little vacay, but a few technical difficulties, the inability to remove myself from my pajamas and my kitchen (seriously, you should see my kitchen) kept me completely and totally Internet free for nine whole days. (Okay, I got on my email for fifteen minutes at my mother-in-law's house, but really, compared to my normal 6 hour a day habit, that's pretty amazing.)

So, what did I do with myself all week? Well, I'm glad you asked (especially since recapping the staycation extravaganza is about all my vacation returning brain can handle today). Below, please find a list of fun things to do around here (and hopefully some nice ideas of things to do around wherever you are). (Also, I'm sorry about all the parentheticals. I understand that I'm overusing them. It's just that whole vacation-addled brain thing. I hope you still love me.)

No family event is complete without
face painting.

Sunday - The Drive-In. We went to Bourbon Drive In in Paris, Kentucky. Despite Brynna searching in vain for the Eiffel Tower on the way there, we truly had a great time. X-Men First Class and Pirates of the Caribbean was playing, but here's the great thing about the Drive-In. Even if a movie isn't right up your kids' alley, the drive in is still cool. You know, appropriate movies are always good, you probably shouldn't take a six year old to The Hangover, but even though superhero movies aren't the first choice of either of my kids, the combination of watching a movie outside, climbing in and out of our car, running around a little and wearing their pajamas in public was enough to make it fun for them. My hope was that they would fall asleep and we could watch Pirates, but at 11:45, they were both going strong and requesting to go home, so home we went before Pirates started. Still, well worth the fun and we took a family of four to a new movie for less than $20, so you know, totally worth it. (If you are interested in going to the drive in and aren't sure if there's one near you, click here for a site that chronicles all the drive ins in the nation.)

Monday - Ran errands with my grandparents. Bonding time and driving all around the countryside. Unfortunately, only fun for me.

Tuesday - The library. Okay, so we go to the library all the time and it seems like this shouldn't be all that big of a deal, but it was. Let me tell you why. First of all, we very, very very seldom go all four of us. It's just a thing: The Husband's working or whatever and I end up going with Brynna or both girls by myself. This means that I spend most of my time making sure no one's being kidnapped. Brynna's pretty good on her own in the library and can find books while I check out something as long as I tell her exactly where I'll be. Maren, on the other hand, wants to play on the computers more than she wants oxygen. So, I spend most of my time when she's there, peeling her out of a chair, where her frustrated little bottom is beating the mouse against the tabletop. Going with two adults meant that The Husband got to find books while I calmly worked puzzles, helped find books and played peek-a-boo around the giant fake tree. (What? Doesn't your library have one?) Then, I got to calmly wander to my heart's content and find a selection of things I actually want to read rather than just choosing whatever horror or sci-fi is in the new release section. We also got a week's worth of DVD's, including The NeverEnding Story. Which we watched about 3/4 of before the kids began collapsing. We're trying it again tonight.

Checking out the black bear enclosure at Salato.

Wednesday - Salato Nature Center - When I was a kid, this was called the game farm and it housed live specimens (zoo-like) of native game species to Kentucky. Now, it's expanded to include non-game species, interactive exhibits, hiking trails and a living waterfall. Oh, and it's pretty freakin' cool. We saw a black bear, a bald eagle and learned the difference between buffalo and bison. It was the hottest day ever, so the kids were pretty cranky by the time we left, but a few ice cream cones later, we were good to go. Home and lay on the couch. But, still. Salato rocks. And if you aren't from this part of the country, you should check out your state's Department of Fish and Wildlife. I bet they have something fun to do too.

Thursday - Suffoletta Family Aquatic Center - More and more, I'm seeing these local water parks spring up and I think it's just fabulous. Tons more fun than a regular pool and more family friendly, this park has a zero entry pool, tons of fountains, a giant water slide and a lazy river. Maren had a great time and Brynna tore the place up. I had so much fun I lost track of time and gave myself and Maren a failure-to-reapply-sunscreen induced burn. Also, there is no tired like a post playing in the water tired and no sleep as sweet as a post playing in the water nap.

Friday - I seriously did not remove my pajamas all day. I did, however, make strawberry shortcake. Mmm...

Fish and drums? You can't beat that. Or you can. 

Saturday - Newport Aquarium - We always try to make an annual trek to the zoo and one to the aquarium. For one thing, it's wicked fun and for another, vaguely educational. As usual, we had a blast. Maren was afraid of everything at first, until she saw divers feeding sharks and then I believe she found her calling in life. She watched those divers interact with the monsters of the deep with rabid fascination. (I also learned that when they carry big sticks it's to ward off the sea turtles who think it's big fun to pull off the oxygen tanks rather than sharks.) I really love aquariums and go every chance I get. And for my money, Newport is pretty darn spiffy. It's not the biggest or the fullest, but it has a good array of animals, plenty of interactive opportunity and lots of good educational information for anyone interested. That and the Jellyfish Gallery, which is just gorgeous.

So, there you have it, my week of staycation. Here is my biggest advice if you are planning a staycation: schedule carefully but be flexible. For my family, I try to plan an activity a day. It leaves a great deal of downtime, but let's face it: we're here to relax anyway. Friday we were planning on going to the Hubble Planetarium. But frankly, no one felt like it. Since we live close enough to do this any old weekend, that's not a big deal. A day of movies and couch laying, it is!

What do you like to do when we have downtime with the fam?

The Things You Remember

I ran into someone I knew in high school not that long ago. I've actually run into this guy a few times in the last couple of years and it's always the same story from our high school days that pops into my head. We were in biology class and had left to go to lunch. When we came back to the room, there was a cinderblock on the teacher's desk and really only one possible culprit: Liam*. He was just one of those kids - the ones always playing a prank of some type. Plus, he and our biology teacher had the most antagonistic relationship I can imagine.

She accused him and he, of course, denied it, saying he had no idea how it got there. There was a moment of silence and finally Mrs. P asked, "Okay, I know you did it and I'm not going to do anything, but I just really need to know... How did you get it up here without me noticing?" Liam didn't miss a beat and answered, "I put it in my pants."

Of course, as an adult, this isn't even that funny. But, as a fifteen year old nervously watching what could have been a bloodbath (we were all a little afraid that Mrs. P was perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown), it was freakin' hilarious. And so every time I see him, I think, "I put it in my pants."

I'm not sure he would even remember if I actually said it out loud. Honestly, it wasn't one of his better pranks - he had some real doozies, and probably, if he remembers anything from that class, it's cutting the nose off of my fetal pig, but that's what always sticks in my head.

Which always makes me wonder why we remember the things we do. My overarching memory of one of my good friends from high school is him mocking me as an adult for liking Train. Not all the fun times we had, the prom we attended together, the top hat or the R.E.M. concert, but a one time conversation years later about Train. It's not like the conversation bothered me, I deserved to be made fun of. (I still do actually, I kinda love Train, despite the fact that they are unarguably terrible.)

Living in the same county in which I grew up means that this is a constant hazard. I run into people I knew in high school: teachers, students, parents of students. I chitchat because that's what you do and I'm pleasant. Sometimes, I can't believe they would even have the nerve to talk to me. Obviously, if their overriding memory of me was the same one I have of them, they would die of embarrassment or guilt and slink off. Sometimes, I just wonder if they remember what I remember. If I started the story, could they even finish it?

Memories are a tricky thing in general. They are never as clear or perfect as you remember them. I can still see Mrs. P's face turning red as the class burst out laughing, but I can't remember what happened to the cinderblock afterwards. Did she just leave it there? Make him take it back? And maybe even the things I remember aren't exactly right. That's okay, that's how it works, things fade and what was once reality becomes a story. A funny story, a horror story, an embarrassing story or even a story like the one about Liam that's not really even worth telling.

At the end of the day, that's all we have to remember - our stories. And I always wonder if I share those stories, or if I am the sole proprietor. Have the other players forgotten them and now I own them? Am I responsible for keeping them alive? And of course, the big question, What are their stories about me?

* Name changed to protect those who I couldn't possibly contact to ask permission.

Antsy

I have a vacation a comin'.

I'm not going anywhere. It's more of stay-cation, I suppose, but Maren will be home from the babysitter's, Brynna will be out of school and not yet in camp and The Husband and I will be devoid of our normal work responsibilities. For a whole week.

We're going to play around and do some local stuff. Spend some time at the library and other exciting venues. Brynna wants to go to the water park, but I have this problem of not owning a bathing suit and having mixed emotions of whether or not I even want to remedy that.

Mostly, we're just going to be a family and be together. And try not to kill each other. In about a week and a half, you'll probably be subjected to a post about how sick I am of my family, but for now...

I can't wait.

I can't concentrate on anything. All I want to do is be outta here, playing with the kids, sleeping late, wearing pajamas until noon, reading, crocheting, crafting and a million other things that I probably won't actually have time to do.

Right now, I am like a kid on the last day of school. Which would be fine except it's only Wednesday. I have two more days of sitting here, bouncing up and down, trying to maintain some semblance of sanity.

So, to amuse me with non-workiness things... Let me know what you like to do with your staycations. Bonus points for kid-friendly ideas. Go!