January 11, 2011 § 2 Comments
Hey there followers (all 5 of you sexy things)!! Guess who’s back? More burbgirl in 2011 is like, whoa. Or something else entirely.
Things are all sorts of wacky here on the creek. For starters, Mister finished the upstairs. The wouldgies have their own bedrooms and bathroom and a pint-sized den to lord over. It’s pretty trippy to have your house double in size overnight. Goodbye stairway to nowhere. Hello wouldge-apolis. I slay me.
We are on day 2 of the New Year’s Snow. Like 2 unheard of school closings in a row. It’s positively postcard ’round here, and the cabin fever hasn’t really taken hold. Yet.
My girl Cathy sweet talked me into this fitness challenge. We’re ticking off 100 miles in January, and while off to a humdinger of a start, my knee had other plans. Like it decided to start back talkin’ every time I went vertical. And then it actually started flat out cussin’ when I tried to wear my (super cute) high heels to church on Sunday. Now I’m all for getting my post-Christmas wigglies into shape, but if I have to wear flats…THIS WILL NOT BE PRETTY. Heels complete me.
I’ll be sure to update you on the evolution of my mental health, you lucky few!
November 2, 2010 § 2 Comments
The four of us went to the polls today, and I hoped to incorporate a teeny Civics lesson, if only to offset the Spongebob and Halloween candy.
Me: Ok guys, who can tell me why we’re voting today?
Little: I wanna press the buttons.
Big: Actually, I think I should press the buttons. He got to the last time we rode the elevator in 2007.
Little: I can press Daddy’s buttons, and you can press Mama’s.
Mister: I don’t know if they’ll even LET ya’ll press the buttons. This is a serious place, like church. You have to be quiet.
Mister: Because people are concentrating on making their choices. It’s a big deal. So, who knows who’s running for governor?
Me: Nikki Haley and Charlie Shaheen.
Me: Vincent who?
Mister: Vincent Shaheen, not Charlie.
Me: Oh, I was thinking of Charlie Sheen! HA! Get it? ‘Cause he’s been in the news a lot lately too.
Big: Is Charlie Sheen our governor?
Mister: Damn you, Susan B. Anthony.
November 2, 2010 § 1 Comment
The Jaxy girl and I went to check out a new veternarian last week. Turns out, you can’t just “get” heartworm preventative at any old vet, no sir. I mean, there might be an underground dog drug scene, but I’ve never been invited to any of their raves. So when we arrived for our appointment, one of the kind technicians asked if I may answer a few questions about her previous vaccinations.
“Um, pretty sure.”
“Oh, and have you heard of this one kind of rare bacteria that is transmitted through rodent urine and lives in standing water?”
(Blink, blink, crickets.)
“And if your dog drinks from any infected puddles, it could make her very ill. And it can spread to humans.”
(Try to remember the last time it rained, the last time the Jaxy girl was alone with the bird bath and if the wouldgies had spots at breakfast.)
“Are you interested in that vaccination today?”
October 22, 2010 § 3 Comments
If ever I were to start a gratitude journal (yes, Oprah, I pay attention, but my follow through is a little weak), this seems like the right time. The wouldgies are well, Nana pulled through her hip surgery like an Olympian, and Dr. Vegetable is parked at the State Fair. Huz to the zah! Can you hear the “Shiny Happy People”/ “Friends” soundtrack? (Oops, did I splash you? Sorry, I was gunning for Chandler).
I’ve had the good fortune of rolling with my homies this week, and I can say that this circle makes me better from top to tip. It’s a pretty small cast, I’ll admit, but they are my faves, nonetheless. In the past 7 days, I (and one super savvy girlfriend) have toodled around a new-to-me small town, thrifting and lunching with the locals. I got to spend huge chunks of time with my first ever “Mama” friends, the ones who have stuck around even after our kids have gone in their own directions. Aunt Jules has been in touch, which is pretty rare since she’s out saving the world, one child at a time and everything. I even heard from my high school bestie, whose phrasing still makes me hear Bruce Hornsby in my head (I’m sorry for helping you decide we should henna your hair in 11th grade). Oh wait, is it time to dole out apologies? In that case, Jules…your eyebrows. Oh, and pretty much every other cockamamie scheme I ever cooked up in the nineties.
Ya’ll are da bomb.
October 12, 2010 § Leave a comment
1. It’s the closest the wouldgies will ever get to having 2 extra brothers.
2. If you forget ANYTHING, they have it in your size, dose or favorite flavor.
3. Their Mama sounds just like yours, and laughs at all the same things.
4. Their Mama also remembers EVERYTHING about your own Mama’s childhood. This can be helpful.
5. You can get away with stuff that would never fly at home. Ding! Ding!
Four boys 8 and under is silly and sweaty and really, really special, because it’s only now. In January, Henry G. will turn 8, and then the birthday clock will start all over again. But this is how I will always remember them, with dirty fingernails and Tinker Toy artillery and gangster nicknames.
“Can I be Nicki New Orleans?”
Henry G. taught my boys Weird Al Yankovich, and Joe made up his own lyrics to ZZ Top. James did a bar grind on his skateboard. Vincy scored a touchdown agaist boys twice his size. I sat in the front yard and made sure nobody got squished in the cul-de-sac.
Whenever we get together, Nurse Emily and I get the giggles pretty bad, and not just because the universe likes to keep us on an endless loop of Punk’d. It’s because we also grew up in the same house with the same CRAZY old people that were our um, playmates (And sometimes, our tutors, but that’s an entirely different post.). Every once in a blue moon, we have the good fortune of seeing our own pack of cousins. The ones we spent every Christmas and Mardi Gras and Easter chasing around. The ones who share the same goofball relatives and family names. And the ones I wouldn’t trade for the world. Yes, Emily…even THAT one.
October 4, 2010 § 2 Comments
There’s nothing I enjoy more than a good festival, preferably one celebrating some ancestry. Because when your heritage is on the line, I find you whoop it up more than if you’re toasting say, peaches or pigs. So this weekend, when Greg suggested we check out the Italian Festival in downtown Columbia, it was on like Donkey Kong.
The wouldgies were a little whiny at first, complaining about the loooong drive and the loooong time it took to find a parking place, but my hopes were high. Oh, they did not disappoint, my little offspring.
Me: “Hey guys, they have cannoli!”
They’re so easy, sometimes.
And Greg? By nature, this is not his bag. He’s not one to dance with strangers (or his wife) in the street or invite the lady selling food tickets to our house for the Feast of St. Joseph. He’s not prone to weeping when the band strikes up Louis Prima standards. He didn’t bump into a single cousin. But he’s there, smiling.
September 28, 2010 § 4 Comments
Maggie is starting a movement. She’s inspiring folks to write their own bucket lists, and then creating opportunities for people to execute them. I have followed Maggie’s blog for over a year now, so I have witnessed her cross things off. She’s one impressive lady, and she has no idea I exist. But that’s kind of the beauty of her reach. While a great many of her readers have shared their Mighty Life Lists on her blog, I am sort of letting mine develop in my own time. I know that it’s important to aim high and be fearless, but that’s not really my way. I’m happy to actually attempt the exercise ON PAPER, since I’ve never been much of a daredevil.
Some things I’d like to do before I can’t:
Take Joe and James to Mardi Gras.
Write every day.
Cheer for the Saints in the Super Dome.
Finish the barn.
Sing on stage with a band.
Find THE perfect pair of jeans.
Host a really special grown-up dinner party.
Lead a Creative Writing Workshop.
Present a scholarship in my father’s name.
Fly on an airplane with Greg.
Anybody else up for the ride? I’ve got plenty of room in my rocket ship.