St. Cloud, Minnesota or the Cindy Offer House??

My kids crack me up.  Really, they do.  I love this age.  My daughter is four, and my son is five.  They come up with the funniest stuff.  I'm afraid I'm creating class clowns (sorry, Ms. Taylor) because I cannot help but laugh at them. 

For example, earlier this year we were trying to plan a summer vacation.  For some reason, my son now has an aversion to flying and doesn't want to go to Disney World as a result.  We have a rule in our house -- if it takes longer than six hours of screaming in the car, we fly.  There's not enough liquor or Xanax in the world to make me want to drive that far.  Sorry...it ain't happening. 

Anygive'emBenadryltomake'emsleep, we started to consider our options.  My daughter got excited!  She said, "Mama, I want to go to the Cindy Offer house.  Can we go to the Cindy Offer house??  Please!!!"

Like you, I'm thinking she's somehow discovered Cindy Lauper and her current address!  Wow, that would be cool and all but I really don't want to impose.

She laughed (silly Mama), "No!  The Cindy Offer House!  I want to go there and the Target Mall."

Now I'm really freakin' perplexed.  If it's not Cindy Lauper's house, then where???  And since when did Target get into the mall business?  G, we can go to Target any day.  While I probably spend as much as a summer vacation in Target, I don't want to go there for our family vacation.
   
She quits laughing.  I can tell she's getting pissed.  Later that day, she called me into the living room with great excitement.  "Look, Mommy!  It's the Cindy Offer House!"

Sure enough, on the Little Einsteins, there was the Sydney Opera House.  They were flying from Sydney to the Taj Mahal.  Mommy had an epiphany!

Oh, G!  Those are great places!  I'd love to take you, and one day I just might.  But you have to fly in a plane to get to both of those places.  The whole time I'm thinking, damn she's smart!  Look at my 4 year old genius!  I'd never even heard of the Sydney Opera House at her age much less want to visit.  Heck, I'm still not all that interested, but baby girl is apparently going to be more "worldly" than her mama.

Fast forward a few months after all the vacation plans have been finalized, here comes my son.  "Mom, can we go to St. Cloud, Minnesota?  I want to go on vacation there."

No offense to those who live there, but really?!?  St. Cloud?  In this great, big world, he wants to visit Minnesota?  At least his smart, little sister gave us choices that were, while extremely out of our budget, still very vacationy (my word...add it to your mental dictionary).

Honey, why St. Cloud, Minnesota?

"I want to go there and sleep on those soft things."  He tries to describe "those soft things" with his hands, but I have no clue. 

Clouds??  Clouds, St. Cloud...I'm taking a stab.  It sounds legit, doesn't it?

"Yea, I mean, no." 

Again, his attempts at an explanation have me puzzled so I do what every sensible mother does -- Okay, I'll think about it.

Sure enough, a few hours later he calls out to me, "Mama, Mama!  Come see!"

On television was a commercial for those Tempurpedic beds.  You know, the ones with the memory foam.  You have to call St. Cloud, Minnesota, to order the product.

I'm thinking, WTH???  Why does he care about that memory foam?  Then it occurs to me.  We've got another genius in the house!  My son, who is extremely curious about how things work, is wanting to see how that suff works!  Maybe he thinks that's what clouds are made of.  Ok, almost a genius.  Definitely a smart kid in the making.  

In conclusion, my kids watch way too much television.  But my son may be on to something.  I'd love to sleep that peacefully.

Move Over Jim Carrey!

I think my son is probably going to be famous one day. Seriously... All my posts lately have been about him. Today is no exception.

Last night, his preschool had their Christmas program. He looked so handsome and grown up. I'd love to post a pic (this one is from last year); unfortunately, my husband was rushing me out the door (as usual), and I forgot my camera (again -- as usual). I only hope that my friends got a few shots and are willing to share.

Regardless, there he was in his Sunday best ready to sing his heart out. His class was the first to perform. As they entered the stage area, I saw him looking around for me. He was grinning ear to ear, and very excited. He'd been practicing so hard! He knew all the words and all the dance "moves."

Let me preface this story by saying that my little man is C-L-U-M-S-Y, clumsy. He wears glass and is nearly blind as a bat. He still hasn't adjusted to his glasses either. He is near-sighted so he gets a bit off-kilter when he looks down at his feet. "Watching his step" is literally a task for him.

Having said all that, where do you think they placed him on the stage??? Yep, you guessed it! They put him on the top of the risers. If you know anything about risers, the steps are not very wide. They are definitely NOT wide enough for an energetic dancer like my son.

So they placed my son at the top on this very narrow step. Like I said, his class was first. There performance included two Christmas songs. The first song was a very lively number, and Eli was getting into it. He was a dancin' and a singin' away! It was one of his best performances. He was so proud...until he fell off the freakin' stage!!

Yep, he was dancing like his daddy with his arms and legs just a flailing when he went off the back. He fell behind the curtain! My sweet little boy went down like a shooting gallery target! And the rest of his class just kept on singing!

I'm a bad mom because I couldn't help but laugh. However, I did run up to the stage to check on him. Hopefully, God will consider that some kind of consellation.

When it first happened, he didn't make a peep. However, by the time I reached the stage there was full-blown crying going on. I hugged him and kissed his boo-boo, but he was still crying. Finally, I asked him if he wanted to get back out there with his class and sing. With a tearful whine, he said "Yes, ma'am."

He stopped crying and got back on stage. He even went back to that same top riser. Of course, this time his teacher stood behind the stage with her hand on his back. His dance motions were a bit less animated, but he finished his performance nonetheless. And the crowd cheered him on...

For the finale, all the students got on the stage to sing. This time he did not go to the top riser. Instead, he went to the very front by the microphone. He was determined to be a star! Even when the teacher moved the microphone away, he followed it. His determination was even more apparent when another little boy tried to sing into that same mic. Each time the other boy got near, my son would stretch his arms out and push him back. We nearly had a UFC match on that stage.

All in all, it was a good time. Between my son dancing and falling, my friends' son singing LOUDER than any other child in the school, and the fight for the mic, I laughed until I cried. Christmas just doesn't get any better!! It's certainly a night I'll never forget. I wonder what he has in store for us when he performs again at his daycare program this Friday night???

Eerie Coincidence or Fate?

I don't know why I haven't blogged in awhile. I've certainly had lots to talk about. I guess finding the time is the hard part. Today, though, I am sitting in a condo in Biloxi while my husband and kids are at the park. There's absolutely no noise. Peace. And. Quiet. That never happens! But that's not really what I wanted to talk about...

Nope. Instead, I'm having a little sentimental walk down memory lane. I talked to one of my very BEST friends from college today. I don't think we've spoken in probably 10-15 years. We just recently reconnected via facebook, and I am thrilled to have her back in my life. Seriously, I don't know how I could let all those years pass without talking to her. We were thick as thieves back in the day. No one in the world could make me laugh like she could.

We did so many crazy things, and I've often considered writing a book. But I'm not sure anyone would believe me nor do I think that some of our "escapades" should be documented for fear that one of our children would one day use the old adage, "Yea, but you did such and such when you were my age." No sir-REE, Mister! Ain't nobody leaving here without singing the blues... Or, at least, stealing a Muddy Waters cassette from a taxicab driver in New Orleans. No, I'm not losing my mind; that was for insiders only. (Do you remember that, Lizzie?? Was that the same night we joined the band on Bourbon and played the scrub board and spoons?)

Ah... I have so many memories. Don't worry, Liz. I won't elaborate; I'll just spark your memory. Like Kenny Sumrall. Or chasing MTV to Daytona Beach and listening to Rick Springfield. Oh, and how about that time in Jackson..."Is this your friend? Well, then do something with her!" What about the time they had to pull the door off the bathroom at Ropers to get me out? What was that guy's name that work there? You know, the one you had a crush on that bought his clothes in the pre-teen department at Gayfer's? Do you remember the time I thought Brett Favre and his friends stole my Bon Jovi coat? How about "Ladies, if you're not gonna dance, get off the dance floor!" It's a wonder we are still alive. And it's even more hilarious that we both have children who rely on us. LOL!

What's weird is that as I strolled down memory lane, it dawned on my that many of my BFFs over the years have the same exact NAME! Isn't that strange? They are all named LIZ or some variation. Lizzie M. (or Lizzie L. now) was my BFF in college. Liz R. was my BFF when I moved to Tennessee. My newest BFF is Liz H. who also happens to be a coworker. Not only do they share the same name, they are all so much alike. They are all HIL-AR-I-OUS! I've had so many great times with all of them. There is nothing like a friend who can make you laugh, especially on those days when you feel like crying.

I don't know if they know how much I treasure them. I hope they do. Each one has helped me keep my sanity through lots of crazy times. I hope that my daughter will find good friends like the ones I've found. Don't get me wrong; not all are named Liz. I've got Aimees and Aprils and Beckys and Beths and Carolyns and Collettes... I could go down the entire alphabet. I really wish I could name them all, but I'm afraid my "alone" time is limited. I just hope my daughter is as blessed! There's nothing like a good girlfriend!

I hope all of my girls have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Liz H., don't forget about me next week when you go to the gym. You know my fat butt won't do it alone! And you know I'm eating because willpower is not my friend!

Signs from God

I think God keeps sending me signs. I know He works in mysterious ways, but I've never really been a witness to His work. Don't get me wrong; I'm not looking to get struck by lightning. I know He does great things through prayer and faith, but I've never felt that he was speaking directly to me. Until now...

Call it Karma, call it God, call it Order in the Universe. I'm not sure what to call it, but I've always been a believer that nastiness towards others will only lead to even greater nastiness to oneself. Take my daughter, for example. She is my difficult child. She is stubborn, hard-headed, persistent, too smart for her own britches, contrary... I'm sure many of you are grinning as you read. I know, I know... I just described myself. This is exactly my point. I dished it out, and now I'm getting it back from my own.

This is what I mean by God and His signs. Or maybe God and his way of aligning the cosmic energy??? Ya see, I am obsessed the way people look! I am forever comparing myself; and, I am miserably falling short, to say the least! Seriously, I have so many friends who look freakin' amazing! And not just amazing for a 40+ something either! I'm talking Demi Moore HOT! In fact, many of them look better than they did when they were younger. I cannot get over how well they've aged.

Now to me... I can't complain about the wrinkles because I think I've been blessed with pretty good genes. I have a few crows feet and a small furrow on my brow, but nothing serious. I'm fairly satisfied with my face (although my neck could use a little LIFT!).

It's my body, though. Or their bodies, I should say. Honestly, scrub-board flat at 43 years old??? Are you kidding me? Oh, not me -- no, I definitely do NOT fit into that category. But some of my friends do. I have one friend who has a picture of her in a bikini posted on her webpage. She's actually OLDER than me. I think she's 44 or 45 years old!

I recently found another who could seriously do Bow Flex commercials with Chuck Norris. Her body is definitely far better looking than Christie Brinkley's. Flat abs, incredibly toned legs and arms, nice and perky boobs, beautiful white teeth... I could go on, but I won't. Let's just say that I will not be standing next to her in any reunion pictures.

I know folks are probably getting tired of hearing me whine about how out of shape I am. Hell, I'm tired of my whining! But I feel so hopeless! I've gotten so out of shape. No amount of exercise and dieting can help me. Besides, I don't want to be 84 before I finally get down to a size 6 again. I want to have a good body RIGHT. NOW!!!

Sorry for the rant... The ADD kicked in. Now where was I? Oh, yea. I think God is repaying me for all the times I made fun of fat people. God doesn't like ugly. He didn't like me being such a wench. This is my punishment. I'm doomed to be the fat friend among all the pretty, skinny bitches.