Birthday Wishes

I am sending out the best birthday wishes to a very dear friend of mine. Stop in and tell Christina Happy Birthday!

Planting

My Boy is a sweet and fun child. He enjoys just about everything he does and we enjoy him for it. Last weekend, after the stinglebee - which has now become stunglebee cause it sounds more like bumblebee - he was planting flowers in our front flowerbed with my mom. Here he is:

First select the spot and dig a hole and look at mom with dirt covered face:

Next, select a nice looking petunia to fill the hole:

Last, place flower in hole - Voila!

Isn't he cute?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The Following are all excerts of conversations with the Boy this past weekend.

Boy: Excuse me . . . Excuse me . . . Ummm, Excuse me ma'am. I would like to order my food now please.
Waitress: *blink*
Boy: Thank you. I will have french toast sticks and grapes. Oh, and sprite. Thank you. . . . That's all!
Waitress: *blink*

* * * * *

Boy: *hopping around comically . . .* Look Out! Look Out! It's a "STINGLEBEE" He is coming to get me!
Me: *blink* A stinglebee?
Boy: Points at very large bumblebee . . .
Me: Oh! A Bumblebee!
Boy: Whatever, it stings don't it?

* * * * *

Boy: *singing* "I've got the whole world in my hands . . . "
Me: No, baby, that song is about God - God has the whole world in his hands.
Boy: *shrugs shoulders* God can share.

* * * * *

Boy: *in his sleep* "I'll take a hot dog . . . with mustard!"
Me: *laughing hysterically*

* * * * *

Boy: Mama! Can we have a fire tonight? (outside)
Me: No.
Boy: Please?
Me: No.
Boy: Then can we set off fireworks? We have a lot!
Me: No.
Boy: Fine! I'm going to bed then! *wherein he promptly curled up on a lawnchair and . . . went to sleep!*

It has been a fun weekend . . . How was yours?

Plunge Right In . . .

Well, it is bible school week and my son has been attending. The theme is awesome. It is "Take the Plunge" and all the stories, crafts, and play time revolve around water. So, water slides, wade pools, boats, Noah, Jesus walking on water, water into wine . . . etc . . . Sounds like fun right? Should be. However, the standard response from my kid for the first two days was "it's boring. The singing is fun (we shall get back to this), but I am bored." WHAT? How can you be bored with water fun when it is 90 flippin degrees out?

Well folks, poor planning will do that every time! See, the invites for VBS stated, "bring a towel, wear a suit, take the plunge - Make a Splash with Jesus." I'm even thinking maybe you could work a whole John the Baptist theme into this VBS. . . No, I am NOT volunteering!

Day 1: No water play! WHY NOT? Cause I'm not in charge . . .
Day 2: Preschoolers are not allowed to water play? Again I ask, WHY NOT? Cause I'm not in charge . . .
Day 3: . . . herein lies the story.

The Boy was bored, and apparently so were a bunch of other preschoolers. See, you can't promise something to preschoolers and not follow through. They have sponge like memories still cause their brains haven't been eaten away be the drudgery of employment.

You can't say, "Hey four year old cutie-pie, I see you there in your swim trunks wanting to swim, watching the 10 year olds slide on ye olde slip-n-slide but you cannot. You can walk the plank, but you cannot swim . . ." Pre-schoolers are still sharp, sharper than you and I, they are calculating, in the best of ways. The world is a canvas and they are throwing paint balloons. . . Do you get the picture?

So, what does a gaggle of preschoolers do when denied water play at a water themed bible school? They hatch a plan. In fact, since, the pre-schoolers are not getting to water play, they come in regular clothes by day 3 - and it is on that day 3 the plan is set in motion . . .

The gaggle of preschoolers rushes the VBS leader and . . . swish . . . down the waterslide they go, clothes and all! AND THEY HAD A FRICKEN BLAST! They would not be denied. When I picked up the Boy at bible school last night and asked did you have fun? He looked at me with those sparkly blue eyes and said "YEAH!" Then I said, "why are you wearing different clothes?"

Good thing I pack a huge bag of clothes for him wherever he goes - he is four! it is necessary! Seems several preschoolers ended up wearing said clothes. I will get them all back today . . .

Moral of this story? Preschoolers will not be denied, will not be ignored, will not be forgotten. . . oh, and if you plan a water themed VBS - LET THE BABIES PLAY!

Ok, which brings me to the singing . . . Whoever writes these theme songs must be smokin la'crack. SERIOUSLY! For the theme is Take the Plunge . . . into Jesus!

You heard me . . . Take the Plunge into our Lord . . . Holy Crap! Here is the verse from the theme song:

"Don't give worry a place inside . . . Just Plunge Right Into Jesus Christ!" . . .

:Bou Blink:

Ok, how is that for a visual? Who writes this stuff? Probably a satanist! So, on Friday at the closing program, I have to stiffle mad laughter while my four year old and his preschool castmates and some older kids sing "Just Plunge Right Into Jesus Christ" . . . while they hold their hands together and make like they are diving in . . . INTO WHAT?

They couldn't just stick to "Michael Row Your Boat A Shore?" Then of course there are some of the other songs: "In the Son" and "Well, Well, Well" with a verse that reads: "I've got living waters springin up within me - I've got streams of water flowing deep within . . ." ACK!

Reminds me of a South Park Episode where the boys decided to sing Christian rock and just took other songs, really bad rap songs etc . . . and substituted some of the words for Jesus or Lord or God . . . I say again . . . ACK!

So, this Friday evening, I will be sitting in a church pew, stiffling laughter and probably having to pee while my baby sings about plunging into Jesus Christ and getting wet and streams within him . . . ACK!

I.am.so.going.to.Hell!

A Boy and His Dad

The Boy and His Dad went fishing this morning. I got the pictures to prove it!

Today, Daddy caught the bigger fish. That is not always the case!

Say Thank You!

How much time does it take to send a simple email? Then do it. Send words of support to our Marines. They need 6,000 emails.

I have mailed mine, have you? Send one here: RCT-6lettersfromh@gcemnf-wiraq.usmc.mil

Tell all your friends, your family, strangers. There have to be 6,000 people out there who care about our Marines and the job they do. Say thank you, and know that one of those Marines will actually read it, and know you mean it!

Well? What are you waiting for?

Father's Day

I hope you all had a wonderful Father's Day! (those who are fathers and those who celebrated their fathers.)

The Boy bought his daddy one of those music cards. He stood and listened to every single one for 1/2 hour and picked out the "All Star" one. Then he listened to it all the way home, and before DH opened it, he started singing "Hey dad! you're a rock star . . ." The DH was suitably impressed. He also bought his dad a set of pint glasses, so much happiness was had.

On Saturday, we played redneck and went to the large smoker class tractor and truck pulls - yes, I am a redneck! The Boy and the DH were both very entertained!

Yesterday afternoon, I treated the DH and a group of our friends to a bbq. I slow cooked two racks of baby back ribs which I had liberally rubbed with spices and other seasonings . . . my secret . . . and just before they were done, I threw them back on the grill slathered in a secret sauce, which carmelized onto the meat and was absolutely delish!

We also had hamburgers and hot dogs, assorted fruits, cheeses and chips as well as pasta salad - oh, and not to be forgotten - the BEST homemade fresh strawberry pie evahhh! Yummy!

After victuals, we swam and the boys all snuck off to do some late evening fishing!

A fun father's day was had here at casa de'Oddy!

Friday Funny

THE ITALIAN TOMATO GARDEN

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to dig his tomato
garden, but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son,
Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.

Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty badly because it looks like I won't be able to plant my
tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden
plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know
you would be happy to dig the plot for me.
Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Pop,
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.
Love, Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up
the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man
and left.

That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the
circumstances.
Love you, Vinnie

Voluntary Meme

I snagged this from the Dash-man!

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Yeah, my dad named me after all the pretty girls with my name he dated when he was a younger man and then he tacked on his name to the end of mine . . .

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Last night. I am not an overly emotional person usually, however, I have tear ducts like Niagra fricken Falls. I blubber. I used to cry at the "Quack, quack, waddle, waddle" McDonald's commercial. So last night, I cried while watching an episode of Planet Earth on the Animal Planet, I don't even know why.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No. I use the computer so much my handwritting is for shit.?

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Sammich pepperoni and hot ham.

DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Yes. I have a sweet, sweet boy.

IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Absofrakkinlutely! I would love to have a friend like me . . . oh wait! I already do - Richmond, Christina, and a couple others . . . . I'm so blessed!

DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Who me?

DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes, as far as you know.

WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Yep. If I could just get the Hubby to play too - he is afraid of heights.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Basic 4. Crunchy, yummy, mmmmm.

DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Nope. I tie my tennis shoes loose so that I never have to tie or untie them, I can just slip them on and be on my way.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Not anymore - if we are talking about physical strength. I was when I bailed hay every summer, or lugged feed for my horses everyday, but now? Nope. If we are talking about strength of character or will, my actions speak for me, I hope.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Homemade Banana from Four Bush in Ellwood City, PA or Mint Chocolate Chip from whoever makes it. I have a soft spot for ice cream - usually referred to as my gigantic ass . . . !

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Eyes. You can tell a lot from the eyes. Eyes sparkle with passion, love, humor and understanding. They speak without ever having to hear a sound.

RED OR PINK? Red.

WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Hmmm, I'd say I am very quick to lose my temper and that is a bad thing. It usually springs up over the stupidest things. I know it, I can't stop it, those that love me deal with it.

WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Family that I have lost. But also family I have here. I work so much that I see so little of them.

WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Pants: Plum dress pants; Shoes: Black flats - I am at work. If you must know I am also wearing a sparkly black sweater set to top it all off and my hair is in a french braid!

WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A raspberry cheese croissant.

WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Some of my colleagues talking about the U.S. Open here in town.

IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Blaze Orange.

FAVORITE SMELLS? My husband's pillow, freshly washed babies, cookies in the oven, bbq and buttered corn.

WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My daddy. I speak to him everyday at least once.

FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? NFL Football and Nascar.

HAIR COLOR: Brown with light highlights that naturally occur in the summertime.

EYE COLOR? Brown

DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Yes, but only since law school. Law School is bad for vision health.

FAVORITE FOOD? I love food. I don't know about favorites but I'll try: Korean food-all of it; my eggrolls, my husband's ribs, cavity pie, my mom's pot roast . . .

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy endings, of course.

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Music and Lyrics

WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Black sweater set.

SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer.

HUGS OR KISSES? Both, especially the ones from a certain smoochy little boy I love so much.

FAVORITE DESSERT? Believe it or not, I don't have to have dessert. But I love Applebees Apple Chimicheesecake with vanilla ice cream!

WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? The Federal Rules of Civil Procedure - as published by Thompson West.

WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? A map of the U.S. with the U.S. Courts of Appeals set out thereon.

WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? Planet Earth and Mythbusters.

FAVORITE SOUND[S]? the ocean, wind through the trees, my baby's laughter.

ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles

WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Korea.

DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Yes - but this is a PG-13 blog and that is most assuredly XX-rated.

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? In Fort Moncreif Hospital in Columbia South Carolina.

WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Seriously, if you just read through this shit, you so better be posting yours!

New Truths

I am a big cuddly girl - ok, let's just put this out there, I'm a fat girl - a Lane Bryant wearing fat girl. So, needless to say, I tend to be a bit overly aware of people looking at me.

This past weekend however, I gained a new awareness of being the "fat chick."

We were at an amusement park - with water rides. There was much showing of skin, many bathing suits, short shorts etc . . . walking around in the park.

Then there is me, walking around a park, in Bermuda shorts to hide the pasty-fat legs and a t-shirt so as not to reveal the flabby arms, and I am surrounded by perky teens with all their parts in the right places, sun kissed glows, perfect shapes. I am also surrounded by the adults - you have seen them - they too are perfect, with something to show off so they show it, and single.

Did you read that? SINGLE. As I looked around the park, all the really perfect adult women were there with their girlfriends, no men in sight. Of course they were showing all the right skin to attract a man, but there were no men hanging off their arms, or showing them off to strangers.

Nope. Instead, all those flabby, post-baby, wrinkled, not so perfect women with whom I commiserate had all the men. And the men were not flabby, not so perfect men. The men were GOOD LOOKING.

You read that right. Us not perfect women had all the good looking men following us around, buying us food, holding our hands . . . and the perfect women? SINGLE - with only their single perfect girlfriends for comfort. Now, there are a few exceptions, there are beautiful, perfect women who are not single - but their hubbys? Flabby, less than perfect, geeky even, and full of life and fun.

When did that happen? When did we not so perfect people scoop up all the fine eligible people? I must have been sleeping.

I was always the kind of woman to say to myself - sometimes out loud - "damn, I wish I had her body". This comment is often met with a pleasant squeeze from my DH who kisses me on the head and doesn't say a word. See, he loves me, not necessarily the me I've "grown into" in the last several years, but he still loves me.

Now, when my girlfriends point out a contemporary with a perfect body, I've been known to say "I wonder how much it cost." I'm just wicked that way. Now I will probably look for a wedding ring and if it is missing say, "yes, but doesn't it suck to be alone?" Again . . . wicked . . . I can't help myself.

But seriously, I was pleasantly surprised at the phenomenon. The perfect women, the eye candy, they were SINGLE. While us cuddly girls were not. Kinda makes me not regret that extra full-octane coke I had yesterday . . . kinda.

So the next time you are looking at yourself in the mirror and that sigh escapes your lips because the years have taken their toll, look over at your significant other who is looking at you looking in the mirror and smile, cause that one loves you. And then think about your most perfect girlfriend, or guy friend . . . and ask yourself, who is looking at them looking at themselves in the mirror . . . EXACTLY!

Funnies . . .

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

and then there's this . . .

Hmmmm. Interesting. . .

stolen from Chuck Norris' secret luva!

Happy Monday

I'm refreshed, feeling great! *insert sarcasm here*.

Quite the contrary! Although we did spend a glorious day at Kennywood Amusement park yesterday. The Boy had a blast, but apparently over exerted himself for he cried - sobbed, choked through his nights rest, with me only getting about 2 hours of sleep - when I was sleeping with him. Then there is the additional 45 minutes sleep I got when sleeping with the DH who snored, sniffled and coughed his way through his allergy laden sleep.

This morning found my neck sore, my eyes puffy, and my giddyup-missing.

But, the weekend was wonderful. As was the sight of the lady-midget at Lowe's at 9:30 p.m. on Friday night . . . *snicker* So, there's that.

Happy frakkin Monday *she mutters under her breath*.

Happy Friday!

Just a point of interest, to anyone who likes Yuengling Beer, the plant workers recently outsted their own union - the Teamsters, for failing to properly represent them.

So now, union members are calling for the boycott Yuengling beer. They claim that intimidation by the owners caused the ouster of the union - when, in fact, workers circulated petitions on their own to oust the Teamsters and the NLRB sided with the workers in the ouster. And, don't buy any of this cry-baby crap about unfair contracts. Yuengling pays its workers over $20.00 an hour in a depressed town with no other industry. It pays 100% of its employee health insurance - the big company I work for? pays 20%! Additionally, the workers get cost of living increases regularly. I don't buy the "he doesn't care about his workers" line of crap. If that was the case, they'd work mandatory overtime - all the time - like me, or they wouldn't have paid benefits - like me, or they wouldn't get reasonable raises . . . Anyway, all I am saying is I think, from the outside looking in, that Yuengling rocks, and it tastes good too . . .

So, since it is Friday, Happy Friday, I'm going to celebrate by buying two cases of Yuengling and actually drinking some!

P.S. Tammi! did you know you can buy Yuengling in Tampa????

ER Update

Now that I am calmer, I will elaborate on the stitches. Since the Boy got four stitches about 1 month ago, I didn't want to take him to the same ER for fear of too many questions. That was my first mistake.

My second mistake was taking him to a Hospital which in my mind I thought was the better hospital.

The third mistake was not questioning why no x-ray of the boy's eye socket was performed, as if you saw him you would think something was likely broken. Well, I can fix that here is the before:

So anyway, where was I? Oh yes.

They put topical anesthesia on his face for the stitches. I kept asking if his face was numb and he kept saying no. Thinking he knew not of which he spoke was my fourth mistake.

The doc, fresh from med school and calling himself "Dr. Dave" was my fifth mistake. Seriously, when he walked in and told my four year old - "I'm going to put some special bandaids on your boo-boo" I should have asked for a different doc. or I should have said, the Boy knows we are here for stitches on his cut! I don't talk to him like a tiny baby. The whole special bandaid thing just confused him.

The doc. stitched him and the boy cried, a real cry. I knew at that moment that it hurt him. So what does Dr. Dave the wonder doc do? He straps my baby to a "papoose board" so he won't squirm and then starts again. Before sticking the needle into my baby's head, he said, "when I did this last time did it hurt?" My panic stricken boy looks at me first with a look that screamed "is this guy an idiot" and with wide eyes he shook his head yes. Now comes my sixth, seventh and eigth mistakes: Dr. Dave the wonder doc gets out the shot form of anesthetic and proceeds to poke and prod the boy inside the cut *makes me squirm too* He of course is screaming bloody murder but can't move because the Wonder doc has strapped him down. I believe the doc hurt him more with those pokes than the whole ordeal put together as he was now bleeding a lot, crying a lot and screaming a lot.

Well, I looked at wonder doc and bit my tongue and said to him curtly, "finish quickly".

With that, wonder doc only put in two of the requisite three stitches and said "that will do, you can go". I yanked the now bleeding but stitched boy out of the papoose board and gave him a hug as he whispered, "take me home NOW!"

My ninth mistake was not giving wonder doc the boy-child a piece of my mind.

I will not be back at that ER, not for the boy. The last ER gave him a boo-boo bear, a popsicle and stickers. This one gave him pain and more pain and finished it off with a side of pain.

He is good though and will live, but he is not as proud of these stitches as he was of his last set. These ones were not pleasant.

So, after the ordeal, we got ice cream at Marble Slab Creamery, we got a cool toy at Toys R Us and we snuggled and watched tv till 10. But seriously, I hope he waits for more than a month before needing stitches again!

ER

Well, we spent the entire afternoon in the ER.

Two stitches this time! The boy ran into a doorknob! He is a doorknob!

He is ok though. So, I'm recording it here for posterity.

Stupid People Shouldn't Breed

Saturday, I was visited by my paternal aunt and her two grandsons. She has taken custody of them because her son - my eldest cousin - and his child-bride are complete wastes of space.

These children have been abused phsyically and mentally and they have no chance in the real world.

I am appalled at some of what I learned this weekend, but I will spare you the details and instead focus on something very touching.

I have told you that my son - The Boy - has a great deal of sensitivity for one so young. If you are mad, glad, sad, angry or depressed, he knows it and he acts accordingly. He is a sweet, sweet baby.

Saturday while the two relatives were wreaking havoc, they began to chase each other with a bow and arrow set the Boy has. Now, it is a toy but it still hurts to get hit by an arrow. The boys were being mean to each other and trying to hurt each other. My Boy started screaming from upstairs "Stop it! Stop it!" " Please don't!" In a fit of sobs and with tear stained cheek, he came flying down the steps and into my arms. Now, they were not trying to hurt him, they were not chasing him or even taunting him, but he was upset because they were trying to hurt eachother.

The Boy believes (and rightly so) that families are for loving not hurting. He was so overwhelmed that they would set out to hurt one another that he was moved to tears. He couldn't understand and I didn't have the words to explain it to him, except to say they were playing but could play no more.

He is such a sweet boy that it never crossed his mind that these relatives would genuinely want to hurt each other. He was beside himself with sadness. Such a sweet boy.

I must say that I was ashamed to have members of my family that have ruined these boys. I fear that it is too late for them both. Though there were glimmers of hope.

Within 5 minutes of them being in my home, they were listening, being relatively respectful and kind to the Boy. By the time they left, they were thanking me, hugging me and asking if they could return. I am no softie, generally.

I take a hard line with children who are misbehaving and was having none of it in my home. They were respectful of my wishes for the most part. I fed them, and I fed them well - something for which they thanked me. I demanded that they clean up their own messes, something they never do. I asked for apologies for causing the Boy a meltdown, which were received.

They have a glimmer of hope, but more time with their wretched parents will dash that hope for good. Stupid people should not breed, be this a lesson!

Fire School Weekend

It is fire school weekend again. The weekend where many firemen from across the area converge upon the college to partake in certifications of the firemen kind.

We have pumper class; hose handling; mouth to mouth; knot tieing; ladder climbing; throw a victim over your shoulder and . . .

Suddenly I'm getting hot and bothered . . .

Ok, I'm better now. Anyway, this weekend is fire school, so that is where I will be! Yummy!