now you're talking

me-
"finally your room is organized and clean,
you should pick a color for your walls."

g-
"i'd like brown."

me-
"light brown?  dark brown?"

g-
"just brown."

me-
"like sand?  chocolate?  dirt?"

g-
"no mom!  just brown! 
like the top of a maple iced donut."

me-
"now you're talking."

truth is tweezy

me-
"hey, why do you have the tweezers?"

k-
"so i can dig tiny rocks out of the earth."

me-
"you can not use those for rocks - i need them!"

k-
"so you don't grow a beard?"

me-
"uh...  yeah...  well...  yes.  pretty much."

sheesh!

a very young gymnast

there are several books on my,
"read them at least 100 times, maybe more"
list.

this is one of them.

a very young gymnast,

by jill krementz

i must have stared at this picture 1,000 times,

but i recently noticed something new.

the mom.

in the background.

do you see her?

all the other times i just saw the gymnast.

in the front.

now i am the mom.

standing in the background.

a gym mom.

and let me tell ya,

it is not as easy as it looks.

but maybe if i had those jeans...

sunday confession

based on an actual conversation that occurred sometime in 2011...

my mother -
"i found some more of your old stuff in the attic!"

me, looking through jewelry, belts, socks, shoelaces, headbands -
"mom, ew!  why did you keep all this neon stuff?"

my mother -
"i don't know, you wore it all the time, and you never know it might come back in style."

me -
"omg, mom, neon will like, never come back in style."

oops.
probably shoulda kept that whole box.

what's your sunday confession?
the confessional is open.

40

slow down you move too fast

last friday morning i agreed
to work so my friend could
go to her kids' valentine's parties
at school.

i left the house,
then i couldn't remember if i unplugged
the flat iron,
turned around,
checked,
(i had)
then headed out again.
late.
as usual.

i drove past a policeman
who had some other poor schmuck
pulled over.
hehe.

i kept going.
i was just driving my normal way,
not speeding at all,
or so i thought.

soon the lights were in my rear view mirror.
i thought he was going past me to catch
a bad guy.
so i pulled over a bit,
and he did too.

crud.
he asked for my license and registration,
proof of insurance.
surely i'll get a warning, i thought.
as soon as he sees what a squeaky clean
driver i am!

he walked back up, handed me the ticket
and said,
"slow down ma'am."
and walked away.
that was all.
no time for excuses.

i guess i do need to slow down.
$137.00 worth.
wiped out all the hours i had worked that week,
most likely.
dang.

on the way home i tried to go the speed limit.
and every day since then i have gone no more
than 5 miles over.
it is torture!
and everyone behind me hates me a lot.
a whole lot.

but he was right,
i was speeding,
hurrying,
rushing,
worrying,
thinking about other things.

so i will pay my fine,
and try, try, to slow down a bit.
kicking down the cobblestones.
feeling groovy.

sunday confession

there are a few days
in the next couple of months,
that the kids are off from school,
but the gym is still open.

so i was thinking i would ask
our babysitter to watch the kids,
and i could go to work.

then i realized,
we pay the babysitter more an hour
than i make an hour.

dang.

what's your sunday confession?
the confessional is open.

counting buses

the road i take to work
is the same road i drove
to take the kids to preschool -
for seven consecutive years.

it is also the same road
the buses take back to the bus barn.

this morning,
i started counting buses out loud,
"one, two, three, four..."
as they passed by.
just like always.

then i realized,
no one was counting with me.
because they were all at school.

i cried - but kept counting buses.
all the way to fourteen.
old habits, i suppose.

the little things

after three months of unpacking,
we can finally fit one car into the garage.

it's the little things, people.

sunday confession

today we bought new toilet seats
for the bathrooms in our new house.

and i have not been this thrilled
about a purchase
in a long time.
so. lame.
but so exciting!

what's your sunday confession?
the confessional is open.

a learning experience

we spent the day at splash lagoon
in erie, pa.

some things i learned -

* some people pick very flattering swimsuits.
* some people do not.
* i think i might need a new swimsuit.
* tattoo(s) are forever.
* choose your tattoo(s) wisely.
* i think i might need a tattoo.

the end.