Archive for March, 2011

Boy Logic…..

March 31, 2011

MiniMe in the MiniMan Cave

My 13 year-old son, MiniMe, has recently taken to spouting boy logic, his twist on things.  His utterings seem perfectly rational to him. Me, not so much.  Is  boy logic the definition of oxymoron? Absolutely. So, here was today’s little tidbit, after I told him his efforts at cleaning his room were less than stellar.  “But Mom,” he starts–I had to ask him to wait until I swallowed my coffee before sharing so that the coffee wouldn’t come out of my nose.  I start backing up in the kitchen as he’s walking up on me…..

Mom, it’s like a new car getting dirty for the first time. He smiles a wicked little grin, the wheels in that head turning…..

“Really, how’s that son?”

A new car is shiny, the wood grain dash is buffed and glowing, the carpet pristine.  Then the kids get in.  Juice boxes, baby puke, Cheerios, ice cream, muddy shoes, french fries, you know, kid gunk.

“uh,hunh.” I’m still backing up, nostrils flaring, trying not to laugh.

And then you get the car cleaned.  But is every really the same?  I mean REALLY? No more new car smell, the carpet’s forever stained, the windows are forever smudged with boogers and fingerprints. Clean as you might, there’s still dirt and french fries EVERYWHERE-“

“And soooooo….” The laughing has started and I can see where it’s going. 

Why bother?  I’m mean really, Mom!  That room’s had two other kids in there BEFORE me.  And me and Number1Son together at some point too! The new room smell is long gone.  Soooooooo looooong gone.

 Still laughing, tears welling.

He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat, all proud of himself, “hunh, hunh, right? Right?  You know I’m right mom.”

Hmmmm. Well, he does have a point.  Boy logic might have some validity after all.  But I’ll never tell him that because his room looks and smells like a  dead goat exploded in there.  He’s 13, ‘nough said.

“Thank you son, for that morsel of wisdom.  Clean up your room, and for God’s sake and everyone else’s, open the windows. Yes, I know it’s 40 degrees outside, put some socks on, you’ll be alright.”

Mommy Logic wins out EVERY time.

-Logically Speaking at the Edge

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Pinkified……..

March 30, 2011

Glamour Rayz is the essence of girly.  The pinker, shinier, the frillier, or sparklier(making up words, yes.), THE better. Whirling Dervish was once like her sister, and in fact started out über pinky with pink undies, pink socks, pink shoes, pink shirt, you get the idea. But now WD is girly in a funky sort of way, tom boy with pizzazz.  I, having been a tom boy growing up, and still am in a lot of ways, have had to get in touch with my inner Pink. Woo.

Believing that everyone should embrace pink the way she does, from time to time Glamour will strike, catching her victims unaware, inflicting her pinkness on anyone or anything in her path…..

The poor blue M&M had done nothing to deserve this. He didn’t stand a chance.

Last Sunday, she caught Butter Face.  He didn’t know what hit him.  After the carnage wrought by Glamour’s birthday party last weekend (see 8 Year Olds post, please), Big Daddy and I had parked it in the livingroom to continue our marathon of March Madness viewing.  Glamour skips by, down the hall to her room, then shoots back by on her way downstairs.  She gives me a quick, “Doot, duh, doot, doot, doo, hey Mom,” in her Mini Mouse voice. “Hey, chicken” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the TV.

A few minutes later, Butter Face the Wonder Dog, comes sauntering down the hallway. I see a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye,  and my mouth drops open.  Big Daddy looks over, “No she didn’t.”

My poor dog.  The look on his face was one of utter disgust. He walked in and laid down as if to say, “WHY, why does she treat me so? Please put me out of my misery.”

So watch yourself, she may be lurking.  She might bat those eyelashes to draw you near. and Wham! You’ve been pinkified….

To Cuss or not to cuss…

March 29, 2011

That is the question.  I swear sometimes, okay a lot. The F bomb is my fave.  It just sums everything up, so succinctly. 

I have been debating about swearing in my blog posts, worried that I might offend the other reader.  And we’re not talking about every single post, but now again, when deemed necessary.  I’ve heard the saying, “Cussing is an indication of the small vocabulary.”  Hmmmm……I’m thinking that was said by someone who just couldn’t come back with a witty retort when getting cussed out himself. Ass.

Growing up, I heard my mother say “shit” and that was only when she forgot something, which didn’t happen very often.  My dad didn’t cuss.  At home.  Craziest thing.  He would not swear at home, but in his office, he would cuss like a sailor. Shitdamnhellfuck was one word.  I think he forgot we were in the conference room when we visited him at work. Damn.

I don’t walk around my house just dropping F bombs or other such homophones (SAT word of the day. Eat that Mr. Small Vocabulary!).  On the occasion that the superheroes are in earshot, I explain to that those are “adult” words and not to be shared amongst friends.

Some folks make up words that they use in place of a swear word, which, really, is lame.  Just say a damn curse word already.  It’s like when cuss words are bleeped out in movies on TV.  We can see their lips moving and know exactly what is being said; so why bother with the bleep?  What’s the point? What the hell???!!!! 

Just go with it. You’ll feel much better.  I bleeping swear.

-Dropping the bomb at the Edge

Live…….

March 28, 2011

I was looking at my wall on Facebook.  I usually don’t pay attention to “Sponsored” widget on the right side of the screen, since I’m usually not interested in who’s sponsoring and what’s being offered. But this time, I happened to glance over at the ad. “Tim McGraw Coming to Jiffy Lube Live!”

Clearly, I was tired because here’s how my thoughts went as I stared at the ad with my eyebrows crinkled up……

Cool, Tim McGraw’s doing a concert.  But at Jiffy Lube???? Tim is kinda big to be appearing at a Jiffy Lube.  Wasn’t he in Vegas last year? He can’t be doin’ all that bad, damn.  And Faith’s workin’, they couldn’t be hard up for money, could they? Oh, maybe it’s one of those local charity concert things. Well, they can’t fit very many people in a Jiffy Lube.  They’re not going to make very much money, what the heck?

After staring at it for a while, It dawns on me.

Ooooooooh Duuuuuuuuh, Jiffy Lube Live is the areeeeena.

Well whomever thought of that name should have thought that name through more, should not have been paid, and should have read, “Eats, Shoots, and Leaves.”

Stupid sponsorship opportunities.

-Lubed the wrong way at the Edge

Condiments and Sauces, etc…..

March 27, 2011

Never mind keeping track of what people are allergic to or not in my house, I have to worry about who eats what condiments, sauce, yogurt,etc…. Pay attention, there will be a quiz at the end.

Big Daddy:  Hellman’s mayo only, Miracle whip is the devil’s food.  banana peppers, toasted bread-if eating bread, no blood on the plate with the beef, but will eat carpaccio.  American cheese over cheddar on the sandwich.  No couscous because, “it tastes like air.” eggs over pancakes.  Veggies,  veggies, and more veggies.  Meat, meat, and more meat.  fruit, some desserts, but not many. Tea.  No coffee unless its frou-frou.  Ranch dressing.

MiniMe: No salad dressing of any kind.  No condiments on the sandwich, BBQ sauce on everything else.  Lettuce, tomatoes only on sanwiches-not in salads.  Butter on sandwiches, no mayo. Orange juice.  plain milk makes him gag, scrambles eggs, never boiled. Oatmeal. Pancakes.  No fruit-on-the bottom yogurt-must be pre-blended.  Spinach, preferably creamed and most veggies. HAM! Shrimp. Loves sweet potatoes, but will eat white potatoes.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, but will eat them mixed or separate, doesn’t care.  Previously didn’t like onions, not will eat them on a sandwich.  Will eat plain cabbage  and raw potatoes.  Gravy on the meat, but not the starch. Now likes spicy foods.  Motto: If not nailed down, it will be eaten.

Whirling Dervish: Nothing with a weird texture-No oatmeal, pudding, and only some smoothies. Baked potatoes, no sweet potatoes.  Meat! No fish other than how Grandpa Poppy makes it (fried).  Gluten-free diet.  Rice gives her headaches.  Boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, but favorite are fried but is not a breakfast eater. Milk.  Will eat deviled eggs without paprika.  No nuts, but likes peanut butter.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, will eat pink sauce. White Bean Soup is favorite.  No shrimp.  Yogurt prefered from a tube, rather than a container.  Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Corn in any form. No spinach, creamed or otherwise. Gravy on the starch, sometimes the meat. Beans.

Glamour Rayz:  The tangier the better.  Dill pickles by the jar.  Boiled eggs, but only the whites, but will eat deviled eggs.  Baked potato, but no skin on it. Makes her own pesto sauce.  No Alfredo sauce, but will eat tomato or Pink sauce. No crusts ont he sandwiches. Prefers chocolate milk.  Cheeseburgers plain.  Hot dogs with no bun.  Gravy on meat and starch.  Has a sweet tooth.  Syrup and powdered sugar on the waffles.  Likes spicy stuff.  No peas, will tolerate green beans.  Salad either plain or with Italian dressing depending on the mood.  Likes ice in all drinks.

Butter Face (Wonder Dog): Certain lins of dog treats give him bubbly guts. Shoes, but prefers the most smelly of them. Dead stuff from the yard.  Grass. Unattended coffe, but akes him jittery.  Butter (hence the name). Steals food, but prefers, fat, meat. Motto:  Please see MiniMe entry for reference.

And this is what I CAN remember…..Check please!

-Saucy at the Edge

8 Year Olds…..

March 27, 2011

Big Daddy’s  man cave is full of estrogen.  He’s been relegated to the livingroom to watch march madness and  has to side-step tissue paper and nail polish. He’s not happy but it’s Glamour Rayz birthday, so he’s taking one for the team.  A big one. It’s a spa party sleepover. Ten 8-year-old girls had hair done,  cucumber facials, hands and feet painted, with glow-in-the-dark polish no less. Luckily, since it was a spa party, I served veggies and fruit, along with the chicken on-a-stick. We diverged slightly with m&ms and cheese doodles, but hey they’re 8.

After cake, presents, and a great deal of screaming and giggling, the posse changed into the pjs and ambushed Big Daddy’s man cave with sleeping bags, stuffed animals, and a whole lot of pink. More pink that should ever be allowed in a man cave.  Big Daddy staggered out, “You could have warned me!” “I was going to, but they’re moving too fast. It’s the sugar,” I holler as I run down stairs to contain the madness.  We settled in to watch “Ramona and Beezus.” I’m thinking this is a good movie to hold their attention, so  dim the lights and I park it on the chaise with one of the girls, hoping to catch my breath……

Then Butter Face the Wonder dog comes in and unlike Big Daddy, he isn’t happy about the raucous in the man cave and is not trying to take one for the team.  He saunters over everyone lying on the floor and lies directly on my niece. He likes her sleeping bag. She is NOT pleased. I grab his collar and try to get him to lie on his dog bed behind the Big Daddy’s man chair.  His does his doggy circling thing, but then makes a bee line for my niece.  He has to be escorted from the room. Reset.

Things were going well and then there was some wigglin’ goin’ on down in front. Then there’s more.  I look and one of the girls has slithered into the bottom of her sleeping bags head first and is waving her hand out of that little hole where the zipper starts. And then she sticks her head out of the hole and smiles.  I would have told her to settle down, but I was too busy laughing because she looked like a TOTAL nut cheesing with her head sticking out of her pink camouflage sleeping bag (Pink camo is whole ‘nother blog topic for another day, but I digress).  I get the stink eye from the Pink Ladies for disturbing the movie. Meanwhile “Camo Girl” is still flapping like a bird down. “SHHHHHHHH, quiet down in front!” Order restored. Again.

There’s a scene in the movie where Ramona is talking to her childhood friend, now teenage crush, Henry.  At which point, the girl I’m sitting on the chaise with, who is a tom boy through and through, is the chillest kid on the earth and one of my favorite kids in the world, calmly says, “Sometimes girls get shy about talking to boys when they get older.”

Surprised and amused by the statement, I say,”Oh really, ya think so?”  She replies,”Yep, but they’re easy to talk to when they’re your boyfriend.”

I chuckle. “Really?” and jokingly ask, “You have a boyfriend?”

She nonchalantly replies, “Oh yeah, I have two.”  My jaw drops,” Two???!!!” I started laughing so hard with my mouth closed so as not to disturb the movie that I was shaking.

“Michael and David.  And I’m thinking about gettin’ another one.”  I busted out laughing to the dismay of the Pink Ladies.

Trying not to totally blow my cool, I replied, “well, don’t spread yourself too thin…..”

She shrugged, “hmm, maybe.” 

I’m out.

-Sufficiently Spa’d Out at the Edge

Side Effects Include…..

March 24, 2011

Disclaimer:  Take any and all medications prescribed by your health care provider/s.  I’m not a medical professional, I just play one on TV.  Just yammering on.  Now that’s is out-of-the-way…..

I love how the commercials for meds have a voice quickly rattle off the list of side effects for a particular drug.  And the voice is always sooooo pleasant, particularly while mentioning that eye-twitching, unconscious eating, neck fur, burning, itching, blisters, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fainting, mood swings, heart attacks, strokes, suicidal thoughts, and even death could result. Makes me want to make a bee line to the pharmacy. It’s a wonder anyone takes medication. 

My favorite is the oily discharge.  This one results from taking those fat blocker drugs when working on weight management.  It was also a warning when eating those WOW chip that were fat blockers. Wow is right!  I had thought about trying said weight loss medication, but this particular side effect gave me SERIOUS pause. Humans were not meant to ooze anything. From anywhere.  That would be all I need to be chowin’ down at work, eating some fat blocker chips with my cheeseburger and just spewing like an oil rig in the gulf of Mexico. Mud butt is acceptable on small children, and even then it’s gross.  Yeow!

Nacho lube is not worth ANYTHING  one is trying to get rid of no matter what the heck is wrong with ya. Ever.

-Fat and Happy at the Edge

Kind and Decent……

March 22, 2011

I went to pick up MiniMe from a birthday party last week, and the mother of the birthday girl commented on how polite, well-mannered, and nice he is.  I thanked her, quietly chuckling to myself, thinking, of course he is, he knows better. I guess because we expect our children to act right in public, we’re used to it. We expect them to, in the words of Jamie Foxx and his grandmother, “…Act like you got some sense…act like you’ve been somewhere.”

They do act crazy when they’re home, and they do drive each other insane on the regular, but as long as they pull it together out in public, we’re all good. If not, there are consequences that they do not get to choose, so think twice when making choices, and use good judgement.

Don’t embarrass the family is one of the few rules we have at the Edge. We set this expectation early on and for the most part, the young super heroes have met and exceeded that expectation.

When I was in parent-teacher conferences last week and the first thing out every single teacher’s mouth that I met with “Your child is a wonderful human being….,” my heart swelled with pride. Yes, of course the grades are important, but who they are, how they behave, and how they treat people, are just as important, if not more so. And while we always shoot for perfection, we explain that no one is perfect. What we are shooting for is independent, responsible human beings that are kind and decent people who will eventually make pos.

So far, so good.  And it’s nice to know that other folks see it too.

In The Cult…..

March 21, 2011

Not Amway

I admit it.  I’m in the Harry Potter cult.  I have read all fo the books three times and seen the movies countless ones(Thank you ABC Family for the marathons, I’m forever yours).  Granted, I am not on the Executive Board of the cult or anything. I didn’t dress up to attend the book releases and don’t dress up when going to the movies, though I do go to the first showings at midnight because I can’t wait until daylight. We have been to Alnwick Castle, the filming location for the first two films and stayed ont he hotel in Scotland where the series was finished (that wasn’t calculated, just coincidental. :))

Big Daddy and the superheroes talk about me bad.  And I deserve it, I do.  We went to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios Orlando.  You’d a thought I was a teenage girl at a Justin Bieber concert.  I had to let my family go ahead of me. I was verklempt, speechless.  I had goose bumps. I berated MiniMe for trying to buy Slytherin gear in the gift shop with a, “Uh no, you can’t buy that. Slytherin is bad, Gryffindor is good.”  To which, he responded, and rather loudly I might add, “Momma, you’re a nerd!”

I do love the story.  While they have seen the movies,  they have not read the books.  I tell my children that it’s not about the magic, the witches and wizards.  Those are just backdrops to a story about a boy who learns about friendship, loyalty, finding family where you don’t have one, finding courage and strength within, and believing in yourself.

They aren’t buyin’ it and still look at me like I need a little white jacket with the pretty buckles on the back. I am starting the series again.

The final film is coming out on July 15th.

I’ll be there at midnight.

Stress Reduction……

March 20, 2011

I’m a firm believer in therapy and therapeutic drugs should one need them.  But for my general mental health, there’s nothing better than a little boob tube for my weekly therapy.

It’s Sunday night.  Time to get my weekly cry on, relieve some stress. First, it was the Extreme Home Makeover. Big Daddy and I, along with the kids, would settle in to hear the family’s story. Both softies at heart and feeling compassion for the trials and tribulations, inevitably, our eyes would well up, reminded that while our life at the Edge might be crazy, we have a great deal to be thankful for. The young super heroes would mock us and our sappiness.

Now it’s Secret Millionaire. It’s always interesting to see the people of means arrive at the airport to pick up their car and drive to the ‘hood.  They also have to live off approximately $45 a week, the average amount of food stamps.  The moving part is the folks and the organizations that they come in contact with that despite seemingly insurmountable odds, with faith and hope, believe the world can be a better place by giving of oneself to make it so.  And then their faces when the millionaire returns with a donation is moving. Again, it reminds us that they are good people out there, rich with money, and rich with grace.  We tell our children that everyone needs help at some point or another, and even the smallest amount of help can make a world of difference.

Thursdays are the night to get my laugh on.  All evening, TruTv has shows about the dumbest people and the dumbest people tricks, or rather attempts at tricks, from around the world. It’s the Smoking Gun’s Dumbest series and they make me laugh so hard, I can’t breathe. These people have got to be out of their minds, and what comes to mind every time  I watch those shows is, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.  These clowns do asinine stunts like trying to ride down stairs in a shopping cart, or a back flip off a vending machine. I know the medical profession watches these shows with dollar signs in their eyes because these numb nuts are keeping the medical profession afloat.  You have to wonder how proud their parents must be that their children are showing to the world that paper is smarter than they are.  We remind the young super heroes not to try any of that nonsense at home. Or elsewhere for that matter. I guess I should be thankful for the TruTV crowd, though, since they are lowering my blood pressure and stress levels on a weekly basis.

-Cryin’ and Laughin’ at the Edge


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