Remember the Time . . .

I was born when my parents were very young. Too young.

They hadn't decided if they were ready to be parents or even what they wanted to do with their lives, so they both decided to go into the military.

That left me living with my grandparents where I spent lots of time being the shamelessly spoiled only grandchild and little sister to my Uncle (my Mom's little brother), who was only 2 years older than me, and was my unparalleled hero.

When my parents came home, much more grown up and ready to be parents, we went to live on our own and began our life traveling all over the planet for Uncle Sam. My Uncle always remained my hero. He was always like the big brother I never had.

Over the years, he and I exchanged long distance phone calls and letters, mostly written in crayon since we were both so young . . . eventually they morphed into exchanging audio cassettes (remember those) of each other's voices when my family moved overseas due to a military PCS. This was before the age of cell phones and it was way too expensive for us to call. We were just so "hip," no one could tell us anything, LOL.

When I was thirteen, my uncle died suddenly and shockingly without warning. My family was living in Germany at the time and we had to fly home quickly and haphazardly in order to make it in time for the funeral. It was just about the saddest day of my life.

At that funeral, we prominently displayed my Uncle's most prized possession: a shiny vinyl of Michael Jackson's album Off the Wall. We even danced a little bit on the church lawn. It was wonderful and terrible all at the same time. Every single day of his life, my Uncle thought he was Michael Jackson. He never walked, he glided every where he went, had a shiny Michael Jackson jacket, and proceeded to dress up as the Scarecrow from The Wiz every. single. Halloween.

I know this is sort of a morbid post, and I really don't mean to bring everyone down, but this is the first thing that came into my mind when I heard that Michael Jackson passed away yesterday. Weird, no?

I certainly hope they are both resting in peace today . . . and perhaps Uncle can show Michael a few dance moves. ;-)


Until next time . . .

Exhausted . . . Oh . . . and Happy Juneteenth!

This week we've had six house guests, including two children (one deliciously behaved with impeccable manners . . . the other . . . firmly planted in his terrible twos), staying . . . living . . . eating . . . showering . . . sleeping . . . with us.

They are members of Mom #2's family and I love them dearly, especially our Uncle Manuel. He is the BEST uncle ever. A mix of surrogate father, big brother, and best friend rolled into one; but I am so tired of being "on" and entertaining such a big rowdy group.

Generally, I'm not good with house guests. I am an anxious neurotic host. I don't do well with noise, either. I like peace, quiet and privacy; however, since my Mom lived here for almost 6 months, I've been trying to stay on my best behavior and not complain about all the comings, goings, and various idiosyncrasies of our house guests. After all, I have no room to complain, right? I actually did pretty good right up until yesterday morning, when I spontaneously burst into tears for no apparent reason. I generally am not a crier, but I think I just needed to get some form of emotion out. It was either that or yell and scream and cause an argument. I think a quick cry is better.

But anyway . . . they just packed up the car . . . buckled themselves in . . . and pulled out of the driveway. Relief.

We just moved into this new house in January, and for the very first time in six months, when Mom #2 gets off work today . . . our immediate family will be the only people in it.

Joy!

OH! And and in case anyone didn't know. Today, June 19th, is Juneteenth. I remember getting several emails last year from people who've never heard of it. It's a very Southern holiday, particularly highly celebrated here in Texas. We usually have parades, ceremonial dances, speeches by the governor and various NAACP spokespeople, and of course everyone barbecues.

Baby Boy wrote a little post about it here on my blog last year. Here's a link to it in case you need a quick American History lesson.

I think this year, we're going to celebrate by staying home and not inviting anyone over, LOL.


Have a great weekend, everyone! Enjoy the holiday, even if you're not sure exactly what you're celebrating. Never turn down an opportunity for a delicious Texas Margarita, well, actually Juneteenth is usually celebrated with Red Kool-Aide, but you can add a dash of tequila if you like, LOL. You have my expressed written permission!

Enjoy!


Until next time . . .

Mom's Moved Out . . . Look Who Moved In!

Remember that little bunny rabbit that kept sneaking into our garden and eating our lettuces?

Well turns out . . . he wasn't just visiting. And also turns out that he . . . is definitely a she. And not just any she . . . a Mommy she.

Baby Boy was puttering around in Mom #2's garden when suddenly he ran into the house all excited and out of breath. He wouldn't tell us what had him all worked up, but said that we just had to stop everything we were doing and come outside and see what he'd found in our garden.

We dropped everything, (I was cooking dinner, so I had no problem letting go of that) and headed outside and guess what we found:

Not one little bunny rabbit, oh no, that would be too easy to shoo away. We found . . . almost tucked out of sight . . . deep in a little hole . . . on the far side of the corn patch . . . a 4 pack of baby bunnies!

They were so cute all cuddled up in their little nest.

As adorable as they were, we knew we had to get them out of the garden or what little produce we had left was going to be gone in a flash. So Mom #2 had the grand honor of serving the eviction notices.

How can you say no to that little face!

Are You my new Mommy?

We were really starting to get concerned that there were four baby bunnies and no Mommy anywhere around, but then one of the bunnies squealed when were putting them outside of the fence. Of course, at that very moment, Big Momma Bunny Rabbit came thumping around the corner. So we set all four bunnies together outside the fence where she could get them and take care of them.

Let me tell you . . . Big Momma Bunny gave us a ferocious evil eye when she saw Mom #2 handling her babies.


I certainly hope they found themselves a nice safe happy home . . . outside of our garden!


Until next time . . .

Cue the Hallelujah Chorus!!!!!

My Mom's moving out today!!

I got up extra early and made a great big send-off breakfast with a side of crocodile tears so that she'd think I'm sorry to see her go, and then I woke Baby Boy up so he could help her load up all of her stuff.

She just left and is on her way to meet the movers to get a bunch of her stuff out of storage so that she can take it all to my sister's house (Yeah!) where they are signing a 12 month lease (Double Yeah!).

It does already seem awfully quiet around here, but I think I'll get used to it pretty quickly. ;-)

O' Happy Day!!!

Until next time . . .

Ka - BOOM!!!!!!

Anyone who knows me very well already knows that I hate to drive, which is quite a strange thing to hate, especially since I seem to have multiple places to go every. single. day. Even still, I don't enjoy the driving part.

I quite literally despise driving anyone anytime anywhere. I do love road trips, romantic get-a-ways, etc . . . but the way I love them is securely seated in the shotgun seat. It has all the scenic glory with none of the responsibility and that suites me just fine.

I used public transportation as long as I possibly could and didn't even bother getting a driver's license until I was over 18 and living on my own. My Dad finally flat refused to continue driving me back and forth to work and school, LOL, but I digress. Back to business, since my Mom has been sick and since business has (thankfully) picked up for Mom #2, I've been doing lots and lots of driving, way more than I usually do and as a result . . . it was clearly only a matter of time . . . before something tragic happened.

No need to guess, I'll fill you right on in.

Baby Boy and I were running an errand for Mom #2, so we headed out to an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar neighborhood. We had our handy-dandy Mapquest print-out in hand and a hopeful spirit between us. Another little fancy-smancy tidbit is that I possess the world's worst sense of direction and have been known to drive around and around in circles for hours usually within a 5 foot radius of my destination, but we won't be discussing that today.

An even juicier tidbit is that Baby Boy usually drives us anywhere we have to go since he got his learner's permit as part of the Driver's Education curriculum in our homeschool (which basically consists of him driving me everywhere until I stop hanging onto the dashboard for dear life and then he's promoted). Since we were in unfamiliar territory, I thought I'd drive. I thought it would be safer.

After a few missed exits and u-turns, we found the place all right. We handled our business and were all ready to head home when, the unthinkable happened. Did I forget to mention that this lovely residence was located out in the middle of rural nowhere? Well . . . it was. So as I was backing (HA!) out of the driveway, I full force collided with . . .


. . . a tree!


Now my pride is bruised, my back is sore and my attitude is pessimistic to say the least. Everyone seems to be so laissez-faire with attitudes of "Oh, accidents happen," but I just can't seem to let it go. I haven't had as much as a parking ticket in at least 15 years, if not longer. All of that excellent driving record going down the tubes because of a tree! A tree! Mercy, help me, I'm hot about it.

Did I mention we were broke? Did I? Drop-dead, collecting cans in the front yard, beans and rice eatin' BROKE! How the heck we're supposed to foot the bill for our insurance deductible in this pathetic financial condition, I'll never know. Now there is a great big rusty dent in the trunk. It's unsightly, but still drivable. Good thing, too, because it may have to be there for a while.


Oh, forgive me, I forgot to mention the most obscene part of this whole debacle . . .


. . . I was driving my Mother's car and she wants it fixed now!When it rains, it pours.



Until next time . . .

Where do all the Mommies go . . .

. . . while everyone else gets a life?

It turns out that Baby Boy has added apprentice to his long list of perfect son (in my never to be humble opinion) credentials.

Mom #2 has been taking Baby Boy to work with her off and on over the past few months, and it has somehow turned into an ongoing thing. When Mom #2's friend/helper/employee/whatever had to take an immediate and indefinite sabbatical, Baby Boy stepped right in and took his place like he'd been doing the job all his life.

My how life has changed. Now we all get up unnaturally early. I hastily make breakfasts and pack nutritious lunches while Mom #2 and Baby Boy get dressed and load up the car. I dispense kisses and hugs. Then they leave. They stay gone all the live long day. I plan dinner. Then sit around and wait 6 or 7 hours until it's time to cook it.

I've cleaned everything. My house is spotless. You can literally eat off of any surface you'd like. Pick a counter, shelf, or floor . . . there is no dust left . . . no one's ever here to get anything dusty anymore.

I know summer is not forever and my routine will (hopefully) return in a few months. But seriously, is this what my life will turn into when Baby Boy grows up?

What do the Mommies do when their Baby Boys grow up and move away? I always just assumed that I'd be, well you know, rich, and Mom #2 and I would gallivant across the globe in high heels and tuxedos. Turns out, that may not happen right away, so now I need a contingency plan.

Sorry to be such a downer. I'm feeling a little emotional today, you know because the doggy is actually tired of me rubbing him and just wants me to leave him alone so he can take a nap already. I guess I'll be starting my own Discarded Mommies club. Any joiners?


*SIGH*


Until next time . . .