Quote of the Week

"Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter because nobody listens." - Nick Diamos

A Night Out

Last night, thanks to my gracious husband, I was able to go out with a friend to dinner and a movie. It was really in honor of both of our birthdays which happen to only be week a part and being a fellow chick-type person, I knew she would be a perfect companion to finally see The Proposal with. In thinking about the movie, I had decided that nothing sounded better than scrunching down in a semi-comfortable seat in a cool theater and eating a slice of cheese cake. Thinking of nicer theaters, I knew that they were against the outside food thing. So, in comes the plan. We swung by Cheesecake Factory and picked up two pieces of cheesecake for us to smuggle into the theater. I had figured that if I removed everything from the bag I could fit two of their cheesecake containers. Of course, I order the 20th anniversary thing just to try something different and instead of a cheesecake container it comes in this huge platter size dish. Great. So, my friend is on her own with her cheesecake because I have to figure out how to fit a dinner plate into my purse. I empty out the purse completely and begin to stuff, at this point paying little attention to the cake/cheesecake bouncing around in its box. Once I finally get it in there, bend the plastic edge over and zip it up, my purse is a perfectly defined square. She and I were so proud of ourselves, walking outside the line for the sake of cheesecake. Deciding it would be easiest to go to the closest theater, we went to an older theater located in the nearby mall. We walked up to the booth to buy tickets, teetering on the edge of the law and were given two tickets and told to enjoy the show. No one searched our bags or even looked at us suspiciously. Not even a second glance. I clearly could have bought tickets wearing the cheesecake on my head. No one checked our tickets or seemingly cared if we were just walking in to take a movie for free complete with a buffet brought from home. It was entirely disappointing. Breaking rules is no fun if nobody cares.

I love that boy

We all have love in our lives in various forms from various sources but there is a love that I never knew until I had my boys. It is this crazy love that makes your heart want to explode if you don't act on it immediately. Tonight I was sitting on the couch when I can hear the sound of one of Joshy's Christmas books playing O Little Town of Bethlehem while he made up words to the song. After hearing his sweet falsetto voice sing a verse and a half, I couldn't stand it and took off from the couch, ran upstairs and tackled him in the bed. I give him this huge bear hug and tell him that his singing makes my heart smile and he just looks at me and says, "I love you all the time". Of course, he also loves flashlights, sprinklers, eating snacks and whatever else he is trying to get us to give him (Mom, can I wear my new shirt? Not right now...you can wear it tomorrow. But I love new shirts. Good, you can wear it to school tomorrow. But I love it right now.). Even so, it is nice to be on that list.

4th of July

On the fourth, as we always do, we made the trek to Choctaw to spend the night setting off fireworks at my parent's house. The thing we haven't done before is sit inside while a monsoon rained us out. The boys were so busy playing, it made little difference and as far as Joshy was concerned, getting to do poppers and the like the next day was more than sufficient. I did miss sitting out on the lawn and watching the boys light as many as they can at the same time and then sprint off in the other direction. There is always the one that falls over or shoots straight into a tree but you take the hand exploding off your arm risk to make it to the finale. Yes it is fun to hold a tube that explodes fire balls or four tiered sparklers but nothing beats the oohs and ahs of watching the sky light up in quicker and quicker succession until they merge together in a bittersweet finale. You can imagine sitting on the ship, the rockets lighting a glimpse of the flag. You can imagine how long you will be scratching because you forgot to put on bug spray. Where do all these mosquitoes come from anyway? Is there a frog shortage I don't know about? I thought that is what they ate.

Joshy and my dad played pirates with the new foam hats and swords I had bought the boys. The more the cherish the art of fighting, the more I gravitate towards toys with give. Joshy and my dad have a special bond. As soon as he sees him, he runs and punches dad in the stomach, ready to pick up wrestling where they left off.

Prior to the rain clouds rolling in, the boys spent some time playing in the water. Joshy is a good teacher and Ben a quick study.

I don't know...do you think Ben is enjoying himself?

Joshy had stumbled into a pack of Wolverine tattoos and wanted one on each cheek. He loves the superhero movies and he LOVES fake tattoos. Need we revisit the pictures from when Jessi babysits and we come home to a boy covered from head to toe.

I hope that everyone had a Happy Fourth.

It is all fun and games until someone calls you on it

Okay...so, you know how when you are talking with someone about them buying a house and instead of a gift, joke that you are going to paint them a painting that they have to hang over the mantle and it becomes this sort of running joke? You do? Great. Well, this is my warning to avoid it at all costs. Spoiler alert...it ends bad. Oh, it seems like innocent fun at first but then they actually get the house and you have been joking about it so long that they state that they now require the aforementioned painting and you sit down to paint something ridiculous, get overpowered by your overactive perfectionist tendencies and proceed to spend 10 hours painting and repainting and repainting again. I started with a huge canvas that was painted various greens in straight strokes that was then covered with a background of various greens made with sweeping strokes. The difference? No difference. Just the evil voice in my head telling me that something just seems off. Evil voice aka Black Hole of Time. The background debacle then devolved into visions of 3 dimension and in turn, taking to a melamine wine glass with a jig saw and belt sander. Yes, that was me in the back yard sanding my $1.50 cent plastic cup. We will just skip right over the attempts to make wine using acrylic water and food coloring with foil as the container. I went through two small canvases on the big green canvas and then one small canvas on a medium one painted purple. I had a wine bottle on the small canvas along with 4 layers of yellow paint covering my attempts at painting a cup. My first cup looked amazingly like glass. The problem? In my attempt to attain the "how" of painting glass, I forgot the "how" of keeping things in proportion. When I stepped back, my wine glass was ginormous in comparison to the bottle. So it was double the width...it looked like glass! My attempt to fix the goliath cup is a fuzzy memory but what is clear is that editing at midnight is never a good idea. I woke up this morning and did not remember it looking that bad last night. Final solution...bottles. Big on coverage, little on detail. No matter what color or shape you end up with, calling it intentional, with bottles, works. All I have to say is that I am entirely thankful to be done, she so owes me for this and that there is this joke about a human size vase for a wedding present that I fully plan to nip in the bud tomorrow...

Clearly it is not Picasso but for my first completed painting, I consider the fact that you can tell what they are to be success in itself. Trust me, the attempt with the stick figure holding a full color wine bottle did not fall in this category.

Brothers gotta hug...

Today Joshua was in trouble and had to sit in time out. Soon enough, Ben was in the corner sitting with him. Quitely keeping his brother company until it was time again to play. It is amazing to me how much he already loves his big brother and wants to be like him. John and the boys built a fort out of blankets and I could just hear Ben and Joshy crawling in and out and laughing. Joshy steps on Ben, Ben hits Joshy. Joshy says sorry, Ben gives Joshy a hug. They fight with swords, they fight with pretend webs from their hands. They walk around the house hitting things with plastic golf clubs and sit on the same couch cushion to watch TV. Joshy yells for us whenever Ben goes near the stairs, Ben cries when Joshy won't let him steal his toy. One says "mine" while the other, "Ben won't share". Ben drops his drink, without a thought, Joshy picks it up. If Joshy gets hurt, Ben rubs his arm to tell him it is okay. Somehow, outside of my notice, a brotherly bond has formed beyond what I could have hoped for. I suppose it is a fact of life. Brothers don't shake hands, brothers gotta hug.

I hate the dentist because...

I decided to try a new dentist due to their proximity to work and figuring that no dentist is really all that different from another. Perhaps that is true for dentists but hygienists? I found out too late that that is an entirely different story. The first thing she noted was that my wisdom teeth were impacted, meaning they are there but haven't cut through the surface. Ominously said, she made impacted sound like an incurable disease...teeth growing into the back of my skull. I am sorry doctor, we tried to save her but her wisdom teeth were...impacted. So, off we go to the x-ray machine that takes a lap around your head to get the full picture. I had to remove my glasses for the x-ray and once complete, I turn around to hear her already half way down the hall telling me to come along, my glasses in hand. Um...I really can't see without my glasses. The white walls and white floors creating a blur of white as I move forward. With a laugh she comes back and grabs my wrist with one hand, as if to lead me, and hands me my glasses with the other. I put my glasses on, but am still being led by hand through the hallway. I can see fine but I don't want to yank my hand away, embarrassing her, and so we walk, hand in hand, back to the chair. Sliding into the reclining seat for the cleaning, I have a general sense of what to expect. My personal likes and dislikes of the cleaning process. I am not a big fan of the pointed scraper as it stands, but after having her Nazi hands wield it against my mouth, I have pretty much developed a full fledged phobia. She would mention that my gums were swelling as she seemingly took chunks out at will but that she hoped that it wouldn't cause too much pain tomorrow. That she hoped she didn't hurt me too bad. Oh, don't worry...I make those twisted expressions of agony all the time. It has nothing to do with you stripping away the outer layer of gum tissue. We all need to just face the facts. I shouldn't be allowed around a blow torch (almost lit myself on fire trying to light the grill manually tonight) and she, anything that comes to a point. At the end of the cleaning, I get sent to make the appointment with the oral surgeon, which is an entirely new set of fears regarding all things general anesthesia. I have never been put under and am fairly certain that my first time will end up with me waking up half way through the procedure. Still better than not waking up at all but really, neither seem favorable. Outside of braces in high school, I have had a pretty boring teeth history full of dentists that did Donald Duck impersonations and smiled with you and managed to clean your mouth without grabbing hold of your bottom lip to reposition your mouth. That is, in fact, not a nerve free zone. That said, after today, I finally realize how people can end up terrified of dentists. If I had had her clean my teeth when I was little, I would have sworn off dental hygiene long ago.