Don't tell mom okay?......Si Senor....

CB-  Mesa kims......Messa sims.......Meca sins......oh nevermind.....

A-  Well what about it, forget that word...what was your story about? 

CB- (aggravated with his fist balled up)  ABOOOUUUT  TACOS AND CHIM CHANGS..... THAT SKY EATS!!!

A - OOOOH  "MEX I CANS" ?!

CB- YES! (instant relief comes across his face) They have lots of chiwabas(chihuahuas) there, cause on TV they always speak Spanish......(turns and leaves the room)

------------------------------

CB is finally starting to use his phonics a little more in curiosity.  This signals to me his reading skills are about to take flight.  He will tell people he can't read. His siblings tell him he can't read yet....but he can.  CB thinks if he isn't reading from his reading book...then...he can't read.  Right before all of my other children started to read well, they became curious on their own....trying to figure out what things say before asking me.  When I see this I know it's all good.  When Cole learns to read well....it's all cake! 

This brings me to the laundry room where we all have our own hooks to hang our coats, purses, hats, etc...
Each hook has the first initial of the person it belongs too and they are arranged so as to be in the proper "pecking order."

CB on the top rung of a step stool in his underwear at 6 pm on a Saturday  - MOM!  What do these letters spell?

A- Nothing (cause I know kids...and I have had this conversation before with new readers and teens....and it's always the same...)

CB - Then why are they here?

A- So we all know what hook is our own hook and no one fights over whose is whose....

CB - well which one is Liam's? (his neighbor friend)

A - None CB... they are our family's hooks not the dang neighbors coat hooks, why would they have to hang their coats at our house?

....silence for juuuust a bit....

CB-  .............MOM?!(hollering to me in the kitchen)  Are we the DAM family?

M with me in the kitchen and D in the living room start laughing immediately.

A- No Cole bear! we are the "Williams Family," those are our first name initials... D - DDDDerrick, A - AAAAmy, M- MMMMaysie and so on

CB - Well it says DAMZSC

M & D still haven't stopped snickering

A - Cole it sounds like your are saying "damn" and that is a cuss word, we are not the "Damn Family," we are the "Williams Family." Now don't say that... even if that is the way the letters appear to read.

CB - Ok, Mom. Well can I have a cookie?

------------------------------

Cole is at a friends house down the street.  The mother calls and tells D that Cole has pee'd in his pants.  That he is wearing a pair of her sons shorts but has on the same underwear, he doesn't want to go commando (which is odd frankly).  D is all... well send him home, he can't wear wet underwear he'll get a rash. So CB comes home.

D - What happened buddy?

CB - Liam told a funny joke and it was so funny I pee'd in my pants...

D- You must have held it too long, you gotta go to the bathroom son before that happens.

....D is cleaning CB up with a warm rag.....

CB - Daddy....don't tell Mom...ok?

D - Why?

CB - I don't know just don't

D - Well it'll cost ya, how much money do you have?

CB - I don't have any money........

D - Well I guess yer up the creek then....

CB - I have the dollar the tooth fairy gave me

D - Ok... well then I will take that.

CB - GOSH DAD! The whole dollar??  Can't you just take a quarter?

D pretends to think on it as he finishes getting Cole together.....

D - Ok.... I will take the quarter.

CB-  (happy) Ok, now this is just between me and you right?

D - Yep ....me and you....

------------------------------

This blog is dedicated to Amanda Wester 

who constantly "cheered" me on

until life permitted me a single moment  :o)

I am just not feeling your flow............

um.............I been busy.

Looks like this:

Monday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, clogging studio, soccer field, clogging studio, home @ 10:30 P freaking M.

Tuesday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, this is appt afternoon and errands on this side of town, or maybe some yard work, and hopefully dinner with the fam if no one knocks their teeth out  or needs stitches.

Wednesday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, orthodontist, church

Thursday - school, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people at 5:50am, pack a cooler full of food and drinks, head for the home school co-op at the butt crack of dawn, to the gym, grocery store, home and rest for a couple hours, then to soccer field for two 1/2 hours sometimes.

Friday - school, hate on the treadmill and curse it... cause for 5 weeks I been hittin the thing and have lost a whopping TWO pounds (I know right?  Don't say push away from the table Amy...CAUSE I AM!), shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, and hope for some yard work that wasn't done Tuesday to get done, then dinner with the fam if no one knocks their teeth out or needs stitches.

Saturday - treadmill for two miles, D shoves a real nutritious breakfast down all of our throats(this morning - amazing Belgian waffles with bananas on top for me with a tad of syrup for taste and turkey bacon...even dairy free ones for Sky), soccer and the to the gym.

Sunday - sheer chaos getting ready for church, church, cook, clean it up, decompress for the rest of the day .....cause guess what?  Monday always is the next day, it never fails.

Not that any of this is relevant to anyone butt me...but I can remember when one of my best girlfriends, Cindi & I swore we would NEVER be on this type of schedule.  Both her schedule and mine are so crowded now with our children getting older and into activities that we NEVER see one another.  This is such a loss to me.  It feels like one of my arms is missing or something.  Like I am always looking for something and never find it.

This is something I HATE......when I catch myself saying, "I'm sorry we haven't _______(fill in the blank) but, we've just been so busy."

This says to me......I am busy and I don't have time for you.


While it may be true that we are busy and I completely understand when folks say it to me, it's just not how I want to be.  

I bumped into Sarah at the community center the other night signing CB up for soccer (I am surely a dang glutton for punishment) and D to coach his team.....cause CB said he would play and D did not have to be coerced into coaching, cause he actually enjoyed it last year much to his surprise.

Okay...I bumped into Sarah, who is my next door neighbor and also one of my best girlfriends ......I hadn't spent any time with her in weeks.....so strange to casually pass each other and cram small talk and important talk into 15 to 20 minutes of go time.

I also ran into another neighbor at the community center. He tried to get me to sign up for a learn about the constitution class that lasts all day on a Saturday. He told me that he would just come by my house on Friday and tell me all about his business at the community center.  When I explained to him I was busy on Friday, he pressed he would come Saturday....

Sorry, busy.

Sunday then.....church....

Okay then Monday....um, how about NO!

Sorry busy all day.....which is the truth.  He seemed to be kinda put off that I didn't jump on this opportunity.

In my mind I'm all, Dude, I am here to sign up for soccer, I don't really care about your class, I am super sure you are a well meaning, cool fellow, but I am just not feeling your flow, you know what I mean.


I'm not speaking for Sarah, but I am kinda....I don't think she was feeling his flow 100% either.  We were both exhausted for different reasons and trying to cram a months worth of missed conversation into 15 minutes of paper work and walking to the car.

Besides, May took a constitution class ALL DANG YEAR last year and I do not want to sit through another constitution class on a Saturday.....at least not until Obama isn't president anymore.....

.....whatever, don't be a hater Obama lovers.

Sooooooo......at one time Cindi & I had decided to move to the compound and just combine our families and divide up chores, cooking,  and schooling....she was going to be to light blue dress family and I the beige dress family....I have another friend who wants to move to the compound with us I told her she would have to be the lavender dress family cause blue was already taken.

On the compound, all the outside stuff that contaminates and takes up all our time is a mute point.  I can have my own chickens and some goats like other good little home school families.  I won't have to pay ridiculous amounts for gas every week cause I don't have to go anywhere.  We can all just get on our compound bus and drive together....well I don't know.... that would be to many kids at the grocery store, that's a not desirable thought. They would have to stay home and knit or something.....let me shake that thought off.

 There is much to said for the simple life.

 In fact when we have our community yard sale, I'm going to go nuts getting rid of every dang thing in my house that I have to dust or keep track of.  What I don't sell I am thinking of just putting a free sign on it and letting the scavengers have at it......I swear.

Okay, gotta go, the clock is chasing me around the house reminding me that he comes first....and now D has fixed the kids lunch and he fixed Sky the most delicious smelling dairy free pizza.  He's awesome, I love him so much.

I so gotta tell you about May's research paper for biology. She did it on Genetically Modified Foods, it has me completely wigged out.  You know how I was all on "the government is trying to kill us" conspiracy thing?  This paper didn't help that runaway train.

Gift giving wisdom?..............

Responsive reading -

Me- Hello.

Me- I am Amy.

Me- I am a recovering blog neglecter.

You - HeeeellllllllO AAAAAAAAAmmyyy

......................................................

There are some things I shouldn't talk about. Sometimes though situations end like this "....." instead of like this " . "

It's uncomfortable.

So this is what I shouldn't talk about, but I will so it can have a " . "

D posted this on his FB: "Christmas lesson #1: Never buy your wife something she says she doesn't want. Odds are she will not like it!"

This statement is true. Men should surely heed this Christmas lesson lest they get their feelings hurt a bit... or is it their pride. I guess it depends on the man. You know, whether he is in touch with his feminine side or not.

feelings = in touch

pride = not in touch

At Christmas, when you ask a woman what she wants for Christmas and she tells you point blank. That is the gift she would appreciate or her heart truly wants.

If she hem haws around and doesn't give you a direct answer... then she gets, what she gets. If she doesn't like her gift because she neglected to tell you a certain thing, it's her fault, not the males.

I have learned over the past 5 years particularly, that you must be direct with the male species. One must say exactly what they want or need. No matter how harsh it sounds to the female or other females. It has come to me that males need to have specific directions and spoken out loud. They need the female to say exactly what she wants or needs so they can do it.

I have learned that hoping that the male will understand what I mean without saying it so as not to be harsh or direct...DOES NOT work. This is not just with my husband, but with my son, my brother, salesmen, men on the phone.... all males in general that I deal with.

I have learned that generally they do not perceive this as rude. They see it as helpful (or maybe understandable) even if they are annoyed by the action required.

This Christmas I was asked what I wanted, point blank. I would normally hem haw around and then get whatever. Usually whatever is fine. But since I am being a tad more money conscious these days, I thought better to get something that would truly be used by me or others and would bring everyday pleasure.

Because even when I say, "Don't get me anything." I still get something.

So I stated a bird house or the new pink glitter TOMS. My alpha male, believes these to be not good gift ideas and buys the thing I repeatedly said I did not want.

When I opened the gift that I already knew what it was because he loves this particular gift himself (which is a fine gift for him)...I had an extremely unpleasant battle inside my body to control my emotions and make sure they came out grateful.

I did not do a good job.

I failed.

My face, eyes and lips spoke not gratitude in a very uncomfortable way. I know it was uncomfortable cause my mom chastised me later and D didn't talk to me for almost 2 days even though I apologized several times. I had it coming though so I just gave him some space to work it out. He loves me again now, which is always good.

I would like to blame it on some random hormonal madness, but truly I think it was just me, showing me. I get weary trying hard to be just the right person to all people. I unleashed my emotions on purpose. I didn't hold back the furrowed brow or fake smile or comments that should have been held for a private conversation.

I didn't spew venom or anything or get mad...I just didn't shoot fireworks out my butt on purpose. I didn't pretend to love the item or even like it....cause my insides didn't want this. I would have rather had the nothing than to have had to go through opening the thing I didn't want at all, faking gratitude, and then sending it back, which I have done already.

My mind was chain linking thoughts of, "Why ask if you don't want to know what I really want? Why waste money just to buy something? Why do I have to open it while everyone is looking at me? Don't take my picture."

Please understand I am not being rude or ugly when I write these words. I am just stating....that sometimes giving the gift is more fun to me than receiving one. Not in a cliche way either...I mean for real.

I learned this about myself this Christmas. For real, believe these words....

I don't like to receive gifts. It embarrasses me.

It makes me feel uneasy and anxious. The gift turns into a show of emotions that I may not be capable of living up to in truth.

I honestly feel like the true gifts people give me are shown to me in their actions...wrapped up in the sincerity of their eyes as it is done in love or wanting to please.

These are gifts that I feel the most thankful for and gratitude is freely and truthfully given. My heart has no boundaries for gifts given to me like this.

On my 40th b-day D gave me peace and quiet to read while he earnestly did the thing I didn't want to do...cook and clean up a delicious meal full of things that I adore. The thought he put into my b-day was a true gift. My sister gave me a day at the spa (which I haven't used yet). I loved this gift too, the reason being, she knows I never do things like this for myself. She gave it to me because she loves personal gift giving. She sent it to me in the mail, so I was able to open it in private. No one was staring at me waiting for my gratitude and fireworks. I was able to express my gratitude in words shared between only her and I. Both of those gifts meant a lot to me.

My mom cashed in her credit cards points to this year and got me a $50 Starbucks gift card out of them. I loved that too. After the present swapping was done and everyone was on their on later that morning, she gave it to me in private. I was grateful. When I hugged her it wasn't for show, I loved her and it was a gift she knew I would use.

Receiving gifts is hard for me and I generally do not prefer to receive gifts.

I would much rather pick a personal gift and give it randomly out of gratitude than to buy a gift....just to buy one. I hate that. Pondering what to get someone to the point it becomes a chore, sucks. It's not longer a gift of thought & love, but a thing to fulfill the obligation.

In this instance it is better to receive the nothing and watch the happiness of others......at least, to me anyway.

I ended up buying myself the pink glitter TOMS with Christmas money from my mom. D's mom and dad also gave me money. Later that that afternoon, after receiving the money, my car battery FINALLY put itself (and me) out of its miserable existence by dying permanently. The cost of the new battery was just a little over the amount of Christmas money that D's parents had given to me. I felt I no longer had to worry about spending the money on groceries, sports or extracurricular activities...misusing the money so to speak. I had used it on myself in a really useful way. I felt satisfied.

These words are one of my truths. I don't feel ashamed of them. I hope you will not find fault in me when my face is in your presence.

going all the way around yer elbow........

I am in the bathroom....as usual.

I keep smelling what I think is pee. Because I have had a kid in potty training perpetually for 14 years it seems, I have learned to keep Clorox wipes in the bathroom.

I am ticked a bit and start looking for a shot of pee that was miss aimed at the toilet by a male in my house. I find it behind the toilet. I severely aggravated clean this mess up. I plan to tell them this better not happen again, but forget.

I remember when I smell what smells like pee again a few days later. I am about to grow horns while I am remembering this clean up just a couple days ago as I begin to search again. I find my little piddle present in the same spot. This time I do not forget. I march into the living room where every male in the house is and go on a tanget about...

**I am not the janitor in the house.

**I am not the one who can't hit the toilet.

**I won't clean this up again.

**Whoever does this next time will feel my wrath at full strength....including Cole.

D & Z adamantly blame Cole. Cole looks afraid, for real. I mean for him to be. Because cleaning up someone's pee cause they are too lazy to hit the target is detestable.

I began to go behind each male secretly after they leave the bathroom to catch them. I miss a few chances.
Then one night after Cole has left the bathroom I spy another mess. I go off on Cole like no man's business but I give him one more chance...cause he's 4 and he looks innocent in his eyes. I know in my heart he is Little Larry Lies a Lot, but something in his eyes convinces me chewing him up once side and down the other is good enough. I clean this particular mess up again and make him watch so he can do it himself next time. Cause I will not do this detestable thing ever again.

When I wake up the next morning.....it is there again.

Jenny! She has been sleeping in my closet at night. I know for sure no one was in that bathroom except me and her all night. SHE DID IT! It has been HER the whole time! So I grab Jenny out of my closet, show her this "piddle" behind my toilet, and ask her if she she did this horrible act. She tucks her tail between her legs, like she is guilty. I put her outside and say ugly doggy words to her let her know I mean business.

.....back into the bathroom to clean this up AGAIN!!

So D is getting ready for work now and is taking his morning bath like he does every morning. I am spouting off about Jenny this and Jenny that and Clorox wiping and fussing, washing my hands and huffing and puffing till I blow my own house down.

D relays to me I owe him, Z and CB an apology. Z hollers down from his upstairs bedroom, at 6:30 in the morning to "Amen" this.

I go get Jenny from outdoors. She scurries in with her tail between her legs and hides under my bed.

I go back into the bathroom and what do I see? A really small dribblet of what I would normally call pee behind my just scrubbed up toilet area?

D from the tub- Do you think the toilet is leaking?

I check around and notice some water under the baseboard. CRAP!

A- Yes that's it. Water is coming from somewhere. I see some wetness under the baseboards, let me dry this and see what happens.

Then I see nothing but dryness, it's perplexing. After much debate and checking we determine roughly it is coming from an elbow behind the toilet INSIDE the flippin wall.

Long story growing short quickly.

D and I have discussion throughout the day what needs to happen to repair the leak in the wall that evening when he gets home from work. We make a plan. He comes home and we begin to carry it out.

D is totally the most thorough man I know. He never overreacts and makes rash decisions. He always has his work plan well formulated on big jobs. They usually have very few glitches and he fixes them, then the whole world is furry bunnies and rainbows.

On this plan D left his body and did not come back. He opted to not check the toilet itself well before cutting the wall. I tried to get him back on track, but his mind had been made, he was sure it was in the wall and he cut the wall, despite my urging him in a panic to check the toilet well first.

When he got into the wall, through the insulation, the whole area was perfectly dry. The look on his face read, "Why did I do this? I just screwed up..."

I swear, I can't remember a time when I ever saw that look before.

A- You shoulda just paused a second and checked the toilet.....

D- Oh man, this sucks, I just created a pile of extra work.

We both shuffle into the bathroom and he starts going over the toilet. D quickly finds a little nut under the holding tank that needs to be tightened......and all is furry bunnies and rainbows. The toilet is fixed, just like that.

That is seriously going all the way around yer elbow just to get to yer butt hole.

The wall....just got finished last night.

I guess I can hand off my title as Susie Hardway now.

with a stop sign shaped tool................

Mondays......

Last night I totally took the girls to clogging practice. No lie, Ms.P left me hanging for a business venture possibly, so I was own my own with 5 girls for the night. I wondered what the heck I would do with myself at first cause Monday is gab yer head to the point of complete and utter emptiness.

I thought to myself, "Self....you could finish yer book tonight. Except yer eReader light is out of batteries and it isn't back lit...forget turning on yer car lights and draining the battery again. What to do???" In my mind flashed Z's DS game Rhythm Heaven....I would play his game FINALLY, in peace. THEN I was super excited to be on my own.

Nothing is ever as it seems though. When Smalls and her trusty side kick Spunky finished their class, the 5 girls headed off the McD's like we always do for some not nourishment. I had to get some gas first though.

**I got out

**I pumped the gas to full tank.....without my Kroger card which was deplorable.

**I got into the car.

**The flippin car WOULD NOT crank.

tick, tick, tick. tick, tick ,tick

Insert the whole jaw dropping syndrome again with all peeps great and small seated in my car.

A- WHAT??! REALLY??!

SB, May, Smalls, & Spunky - Oh no! I can't believe this!(etc, etc, etc)

I get out and this fellow and his wife that were filling the 2 cars they own and every single gas can from here to the TN border with their Kroger gas card at .40 off a gallon.....were in disbelief also. They were pumping when I pulled in. The husband tells me he doesn't have cables and we discuss for not more than 40 seconds how insane this situation is. I am gabbing with him and making the call to D......again, to come and rescue me.

It's cold and rainy...he isn't feeling my vibe and we are disgruntled with one another cause he is asking me questions I feel are inconsequential and he thinks I am not listening again...and I feel like not listening cause his questions are not helpful. I want him to say, " I am on my way," and he wants me to say "Oh never mind, the car cranked false alarm," or something of that nature.

While I am trying not to get frustrated with his tone of voice at my situation that is completely not my fault, Gas Can Husband has located an Old Navy Truck Man with jumper cables.

EXCITEMENT! I try to hang up with D so I can help this fellow make sure both ends do not touch, in the cold flippin rain, and show my gratitude....but D will not quit lamenting to me on the phone. I want him to be quiet and hang up now and he wants to know what's going on.

I HATE talking on a cell phone, can't stand it....even when not in dire situations. It just bugs the crap out of me.

D- CALL ME WHEN you get the CAR CRANKED! BYE! (D loves his cell phone, even though at this point he was on our home phone. Both D & my mom...the two of them, would lose all consciousness without their cell phones.)

Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than Mr. P has told Ms. P and I.

Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than D has told Ms. P and I.

Three men connecting cables in three different sequences...all telling me with confidence their way is the right way......and at what point the battery could spew rabid, clothes melting, flesh eating, acid onto your face......all three different.

The six of us females have concurred on this: At birth, males are given the knowledge of how to hook jumper cables up. I don't care what order they do it in, they do it with confidence and authority.

My car cranks right up.

Rejoicing!! Not near what it was when Ms. P & I did the man deed. But it did feel good to be rescued and rather quickly in the cold rain.

So I walk over to tell Old Navy Truck thank you for letting us use his cables and how grateful I am that he hadn't left the gas station yet.

Cause it's the south, he wants a hug. I gladly give him one. I am grateful.

Gas Can Husband is bringing the cables over and telling Old Navy Truck Man some man words about my car, that I don't care about. Gas Can Husband is happy cause I am happy....plus he's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

I pat his back and tell him "Thank You" and he squeezes my shoulders as in a half hug, cause he's glad to help a car full of gals. Gas Can Wife is happy too, cause her husband is the super hero who saved the day.....plus she's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

Well....Old Navy Truck has been talking to a One Legged Man, who makes BBQ sauce, while we are having Monday night drama at the Shell. One Legged Man, one legs it on over to my car and discovers that my battery cables are loose and this is why my completely fine battery has repeatedly acted incompetent.

The three men agree that One Leg has discovered the answer to all of the worlds problems. They all shake their heads in a concurring manner....I do this also. It feels like the right thing I am supposed to do.

One Legged Man tightens the cable best he can till I can get home for D to tightened it properly with a stop sign shaped tool.

Then he declares the car good for another 100,000 miles.

One Leg informs me that he saw me give the other two dudes a hug and he wants one too. After all, he is "the one who discovered the loose battery cables."

We all cackle a bit, I hug him and he reminds me that the Shell gas station sells his BBQ sauce inside and for me to go and buy some. The three males shake hands. They are heroes who have saved 5 females and they have been hugged properly for it......plus Gas Can Husband has gotten .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

After that, food was gotten at the drive thru.... Smalls & Spunky played in my car with it running, while I played Rhythm Heaven on Z's DS....and SB & May made it to their class on time.

Furry Bunnies and Rainbows........

Now that we're men......

Last night, in my eyes, I did this totally amazing thing along side Ms. P.

At the clogging studio we were in deep girl, God, and geek gab ....not necessarily in that order. When I say deep, it was almost an hour past the time we were supposed to have left the studio to head home. The class had ended around 9:00pm and our girls were still gabbing, so we continued to gab.

Hear this! Because we were totally gabbing incessantly for two hours barely stopping for breath.....in my car.....with the interior lights on the whole time.......at 10:00pm... my interior lights suddenly went dim.

I say to myself, "Self....I bet your battery is getting weak." I crank my car up, uumm, no I don't cause it won't crank.

tick, tick, tick, tick. tick,

try again

tick, tick, tick, tick

My jaw drops, Ms. P's jaw drops, our teen girls in the other vehicle show us that our jaw dropping syndrome has contaminated them also.

A- D is going to kill me....he is packing for a trip to Orlando in the morning.

Ms. P - I think I have jumper cables

A- (furry bunnies and rainbows....in terror. Cause somebody had to hook them thangs up)

Ms. P can't find them, she calls her husband, they discuss at length how to hook the cables up while I read the directions on the packaging.

Ms. P's husband is at home in one direction far from the studio and D is at home far away in the opposite direction from the studio, and we are out too late anyway....it just wasn't optimal.

Ms. P relays that Mr. P has said we should hook up red, black, black, red (or vice versa or something). We shouldn't let them touch... insert some more directions and technical stuff that I am starting to tune out because I'm afraid to hook the jab-O's up. All my life I have heard that some somebody's car blew up, somebody got venom spewed in their face and their face burned off, acid melted their clothes off and onto their skin and falalala la lala la la.

When I come to my senses Ms. P is standing in front of me with a red and a black in her hands and I with a red and black in my hands and we aren't letting them touch.....staring at each other.

The thing is we haven't even moved our vehicles yet and our vehicles are turned off.

A- Can you do this?

Ms. P - I think so...

Frick and Frack...the two willies decide first we should move the vehicles into proper position. After all the cables were touching each other in the bag right?

Move the vehicles. We are on the right track. We've done step one according to her package instructions. The vehicles are nose to nose without touching each other....

It is clear we are both leery of hooking the exploding battery acid face eating machine cables up. I feel extreme anxiety rising within as she and I are looking for exact locations at which to position these 4 pincher's.

I make the decision to call D finally.

A- (sweet) Helllllooo.

D- Where are you?

A- At the studio, my battery is dead.

D- Does Meg have cables?

A- funny thing.....yes, but Babe, I am afraid to hook them up and so is she, can you just come here and do it?

D- Really, Amy? I mean you can do this. Just put the positive on the positive and the negatasdkl lksjdji kjshdjhiuh nasjdhk and jhh yuy xernhg uyg.....

I don't hear him anymore he's speaking Japanese to me cause I am afraid.

So I put him on speaker phone for directions as I am using the cell phone for a flash light. Ms. P doesn't have a cell phone so this is it.

It is clear to him I am not listening well and about to panic which equals buggin out. D determines that I am going to do this. He determines he is not driving across the Untied States at 10pm...when I am "this close" the fix myself.

D- (on speaker phone....and BTW Ms. P is a deacons wife...not that it should matter it's just an ironic situation, that caused me to snicker a little in the after thoughts when I got home.) Put the "not the dam that beavers build" red cable on the "not the dam that beavers build" positive bolt, Amy, Now!

A & Ms. P(we laugh a little) - Easy Tiger, yer on speaker phone.

D - I don't care hook up the red cable and then do the black one, now, DO IT.

I totally hooked'em up. I was half way there. Ms. P is standing close beside with her 2 cables not touching. Like surgeons with special tools I take one from her hand and D tells me where to hook it on my car. Then the last one is placed on the black negative on my battery.

Not the optimal place I learned cause that is the crisis point at which a battery could explode with my face next to it. When I read the directions though it said not to hook it next to this fuel line and that cable and x,y,z...so I was afraid again cause I have a Hyundai and I don't know which line is which. I recognized the windshield washer fluid and so did Ms. P and all that was plastic. One is supposed to connect the last black one to a metal bolt or something. I was supposed to look away, but I forgot....cause I was having an anxiety attack in my mind.

So the moment of truth has arrived. The connections have been made. D relays Ms. P should start her vehicle and slowly rev the engine.

A- Okay go start your car and give it some gas.

D- No.. I said slowly give it some gas (Ms. P is revving up to start a Nascar race). Tell her to stop that.

I don't listen and go get in my car and crank it right up.

......insert redneck hooting and hollering in downtown, at night, behind some random building, with no lights on and 6 girls jumping up and down totally being girls.

D- Come home. ... and be careful, the deer are out tonight.

Insert some more jumping up and down and girly screaming cause BY GOLLY!! WE ARE WOMEN HEAR US ROAR FOR PETES SAKE!!!!!!

I know D helped talk us through that and he used some man words to do it......but I swear in my mind I felt like we did it all by ourselves. I mean really, we were nervous, but we seriously overcame it and just totally did the freaking man deed.

Ms. P calls her husband and relays to him we have done the deed. He asks her if we unhooked the cables. I told her you should have told him, "No, that's their leash, the whole clan need to be on a leash."

Even Ms. P's daughter and May told us they were proud of us. We had a big, 6 female, jumpy, girly group hug put our hands in the center and "Go Ladies" on three...1, 2, 3...GO LADIES!

I smiled myself to sleep last night cause I rocked my own world for a change.

I love hanging out on Monday's with Ms. P. It makes me feel strong and mighty in every way.

I dedicate this song to you Ms. P. We "passed the test and finished the quest!"
Hope you have an awesome Tuesday!!!!!

Do you want some of my whoop, whoop?.......

D got a facebook. He is addicted to it, though he claims he is not. He was conflicted about what exactly it meant to add "friends" to your list. We had this long overdrawn out discussion about "friends." Then like, one of his first status updates was some business about about how I said his "friends" weren't his "real friends" and can he get a "whoop, whoop" if you are his friend and fa lala lala la la la la.

I am like, slow yer roll dude, that is not what I said at all. But as is common practice I gave him a mulligan and let him have his FB fun. Cause you know how it is when you first get on FB...it's a time eating machine that you think about incessantly.

Well of course all of his friends are going to "whoop, whoop" him, for crying out loud. No amount of explaining I do is going to take back that inaccurate status update.

So all day long his phone is dinging to show someone else has given him a whoop, whoop. He appended a certain high pitched voice to the whoop whoop as the day progressed. By the end of this particular day D has a whoop whoop dance to go with it.

He is feeling very FB encouraged and asks me if I would like to have some of his whoop whoop.

I am like, "I don't know man, if it's anything like yer couscous I need to think about it."

....he is still getting whoop whoops and he still does the dance, even after nearly two weeks.

.........................................................

A- Cole what would like for dinner?

CB- uuuuummm......I think I would like to have some chips with some tater tots. (he's serious)

A- uuuuummmm.....Let me see......hoooooww about, no. Try again.

..............................................................................

We had this awful bout with chiggers a couple weeks ago. They were awful. Zac, May, and I all had bites all over our legs. They were rampant at the soccer fields apparently and lots of folks I had spoken with had bites on their legs also. I was Google-ing endlessly one day to find a source of termination for the incessant itching on our legs......fingernail polish worked great for us.

A link for Urban Dictionary came up. It read something to the effect of

Chiggers - Chegroes -

Politically-correct name for biting insects; ie chiggers.

This caused me to snicker a little, but not too much cause I didn't want to get honkey guilt.....

Warning: Urban dictionary can be mind contaminate, but some of the new phrases and meanings, are pretty witty.

........................................................................

I took Cole to the Kroger Deli so as not to feed his addiction to the sight of Golden Arches.

I swear if you take a child to McD's one time it is a permanent life addiction until they reach 40.

When it suddenly catches up with them and then they have to take a probiotic and some Colonix to regain some sense well being and decontamination.

Anyhoo....

CB- I don't want to eat at the Deli

A- I don't care CB. There is no way I am going in McD's today, the smell makes me gag.

CB - You can just hold yer nose Momma, that's what I do when it stinks.

A- No, CB ...you'll like this stuff I promise. Little, tiny chicken legs and green beans, it'll be good trust me.

CB does love the 5 little chicken legs he has picked out and the beans. He is smacking his lips in the back seat on the way home.

CB- mmm......mmmmmmm.......mmm...Mom I love these chickens. I am gonna save these two for Skylar and Zac.

A- Sky can't eat those Babe, go ahead and eat them. I will buy Zac some legs later okay?

CB- Mom what's this stuff say on the top? (he's holding the lid up pointing to the ingredients list)

A- That's the ingredients. It tells what they make the chicken flavoring from.

CB - Well.......I love these ingredients.

...........................................................................

How about a little T M I...........

OOOOooookay, here's what happened,

Z had a game this past Saturday in Etowah. Since Etowah is located near Athens, where the Mayfield Dairy Corn Maze is located, we made a day of the time away from home.

This is an aerial view of the maze, it's ......awesome. Going to a corn maze in the fall is the epitome of southern fun, I swear.

As soon as we got there and CB saw we were at a farm he was uber excited. I mean it's really an understatement. Sarah and I had sort of already predetermined that CB was going to be a military man when he grew up....but I am not sure now... he may be a farmer.

Made of 1/2 gallon milk jugs...clever I thought.

CB questions everything.

CB- May why does that cow have milk dripping out of his belly?

M- CB, that's the cows boobies.

CB to Skylar telling a secret - Sky, see those white drippy things?...that's cow boobies.....

Sky - Cole.......shut up.

Included in the ticket is a hayride through the farm. Which was awesome, we got to see some guys planting strawberries. It was quite eye opening to see. My photos didn't come out clearly, cause I am an idiot with my camera on the wrong setting. It amounts to a tractor like machine driven by a man with two guys sitting close the ground on both sides of the machine. They are plucking ground with some tool and slamming plants into the holes at a speed that astonished me. I cannot think how many strawberry plants they could plant in a day at that rate. If the hay ride was for only that reason, I felt a little more educated on strawberry farming. I wondered what those guys got paid for such a tedious job. Plus I have had problems with hemorrhoids for about a week and a half now and all that sitting they were doing ....uuuhh I had to shake it off.

T M I fact #1 (too much information)

Also included in admission is:

* Hillbilly Pig Races

This again........southern......kids chasing around pigs with names like "Lee Ann Porkrines" "Squealy Nelson" " Justin Tenderloin" " Pig Diddy" " Clay Bacon"

* Tractor Tire Mountain, Cole loved it!

* Sand Box made with black sunflower birdseed & a separate sand box filled with corn kernels, Cole loved it. He & Sky both left with shoes full of corn and sunflower seeds

* Haybale Mountain, Cole Loved it. Run around on top of the hay bales jump in the hay filled center. Sky jumped in and held her nose.

* "Educational Silos" - cool to look at...I felt no more educated on silos when I left the dairy

Zac in the green, far left...

Sky and Cole bringing up the rear.

D celebrating because he believes himself to be the corn maze master. We got a tad lost and he got us back on track with his mad corn maze skills.

The last check point before heading to the exiting path

...still on the exiting path.....I decided to take a few last photos and lost sight of my people....

....so I started to panic about getting lost here at the last hour and decided to run and catch up.....

Z is hiding around the corner a bit, tucked into the corn where I can't see him..... waiting on me....waiting on me...waiting.....

I am running, round the corner, he jumps out of the corn, scares the crap out of me ....cause the 80's version of the movie Children of the Corn crowds my mind and ...you know....Malachi) I scream in horror.

I pee in my pants.

T M I fact #2

Z is laughing his butt off. I want to laugh but I am having to dig as deep as I can into my hold it, hold it, hold it, cross you legs, files in my mind as I can....

He is still laughing and now realizing I am now going to kill him and running. I get my bladder together and determine to choke him, but as soon as I move my bladder forgets that I have just reprimanded it and I must stop and cross legs again. My mind confirms to me a GYN visit is inevitable.

From far away Z is laughing and saying, "I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry mom, it's just so funny...I didn't mean to make you pee yer pants, it's just so funny though."

My other peeps think this funny too and recreate my screaming horror hold the pee stance.

A- Z! You are yelling that I peed my pants at the corn maze! (...I figured since peeps in Athens knew, I might as well blog about it)

We get out of the maze. I go to the bathroom and try to make "lemonade with my lemons." My people relay they will meet me at the car and are gonna have a snack before hitting the road home.

Cole makes friend with a donkey. He LOVES the donkey and wants to take it home.

D- Here CB, feed the donkey some apple.

He does and then a little more.

CB - eeeww, what's that thing on his belly?
A- CB that's his goober.
CB - eeeww gross

I swear the donkey became overly grateful, if you know what I mean, by the apple feeding.

T M I fact #3

CB- MOM!! The Donkey! LOOK! MOMMA! He has a stick growing out of his belly, I didn't notice donkeys had sticks on their bellies.

A - Ugh, What????
M- Sick!! Disgusting!! Gross!! I am outta here.....
Z- Good Lord! He doesn't even need to hike his leg to pee!
D- I can't eat over here, we have to leave that's just.....disturbing, Good God.....those must have been some good apples.
A- ....no wonder he's "ridin solo."
CB- I don't want to leave the donkey!! He's so cute and soft..... I want to stay, I don't want to leave the farm yet.

We are all just about into the car and exhausted. Cole can still see the donkey while I am buckling him into his car seat.

CB - Momma, where did his stick go?
A- Cole, I don't know, gosh.....

This concludes our "educational" tour of the dairy.

**We did not feed this animal Pringles BTW

My people are fixing to go into battle for crying out loud (Biltmore stuff).........

After we had eaten dinner at The Old Stone Inn (later on that) and had made it back to the cabin, D went out on the back deck to smoke a cigar and watch the storm coming in. I put on my PJ's and ate his Nutella dessert before he could eat it. I figured his dessert was a cigar, plus he said earlier I could have his Nutella dessert....even if he didn't mean it, I ate it.

So the storm comes in. We have the door open and all is quiet in Mr. Roger's neighborhood except the cool breeze blowing in and the sound of rain. We are both reading in total silence which is awesome! I have my Nook with Pillars of the Earth going to town. D has grabbed a real book from the side table about some mountain living and so forth from about the late 1960's to early 70's publishing time. I am not sure but some of those books may have been there since that house was built.

He starts talking to me about some mountain folks in the book. I stop reading to listen well. He informs me to keep reading he isn't going to go on & on, he just wanted to tell me about x, y, and z. When he has finished I pick back up where I left off. My people are fixing to go into battle for crying out loud, I am right in the middle of Medieval time battle anxiety and chaos.....

D- Babe! You have to look at this guy, he is standing on this piece of wood barefooted and cutting with his ax! LOOK at him.

I look at the mountain man. He is in fact using an ax barefooted with overalls on and no shirt underneath.

D goes into the what feels like an on and off 25 minute discussion about the fellow with no shoes on and his overalls hacking away at the round piece of wood that he believes is a wagon wheel in the making. When he realizes it is actually a water wheel, it freaking rocks his world. Then he goes into another discussion about the amount of work it took to whittle out the vanes and blah, blah, blah....on and on and now this other hillbilly, old fellow, dude has made a bee hive out of an old humongous log and he's telling me how to do this.

I dang HATE bees. This information will never be useful to me in anyway. I have to listen to him though cause he has been so sweet to me all weekend. He tells me about bees, queen bees, worker bees, bee hives, bee swarms, how to mark a tree in the old days so no one else claimed the tree and it wouldn't get cut down by loggers, how to track some bees, boiled bees, fried bees, bees soup, bee gumbo, bee ca-bobs, bee pudding, bees and rice, here a bee, there a bee, everywhere a bee, bee. He informs me he is gonna get some bees and make a bee hive out of a log.

A- Really Babe? My people are fixin to be in the middle of a battle in Earlshire or something or other and the dang stable is on fire.....You know I hate bees, we are never going to own a swarm of bees, freaking EVER.....

....then this.....

...there is a framed newspaper article and picture in the mountain house about this really, really, old woman that was related to his mom from way back when....way, way, way back when....she was a midwife among a lot of other things she did while she was alive. Truly she was an amazing woman. I hadn't read the article in many years.....but, again, then this...

D- Amy you just don't understand how hard these people had it till you think about all this stuff they had to do to get honey and grind corn and .....have you read that article on the wall over there about that woman? I mean sometimes people couldn't even pay her. All they had for payment was a dang squirrel.

A- (laughing, cause I suddenly remembered that part of the article. It never occurred to me as funny at the time. Now I am delirious over barefoot, no shirt wearing under overalls hillbillies who used to be sweet mountain men at the beginning of the conversation who are now keeping me from Medieval battle in my Pillars book.)

D starts laughing a little too cause he understands how funny that sounds now too.

I'm all in my mind..... birthing Skylar or Cole or something and suddenly saying to the doctor...um, I am sorry I forgot my debit card...... but I gotta squirrel. Do you take a squirrels?


If you pull his tail you can run his tongue through he slider. Now Doc... that's the wrong way. Now his testicles are stuck.....yer gonna get a decline runnin him that way......


A- Babe, Shut up! You are killin me. I love you and all but I don't want to hear one more thing about that barefooted man or idiot bees......

D- I am just sayin it's all interesting I bet Dad loves looking at these books.

......all is quiet a few minutes........then,

D- Hey Amy, look here we are at the Biltmore.

I look over my reading glasses at him with that blasted book, for sure I am half cocked.

He shows me this picture.

I have to laugh out loud, cause it does look like me a little. I swear when I get up in the morning, with mis-matched pajamas, my glasses, and some random shoes...maybe they are the same on both feet... maybe they aren't....

D- Look.....it's you ridin my a** like a donkey in the rain taking pictures of flowers.

So dang funny.

*