Ramblings: Blast from Someone Else's Past

Jeremy's sister Kashann, had a funny post on her blog where she used this website www.yearbookyourself.com/. I had some fun with it, as you can see. It'll stick your head into yearbook pictures from years over the past four or so decades. The funny thing is, I had some of these hairstyles growing up that were, unbeknownst to me, paying homage to the past---and if I had digital pictures from back then, I'd post the evidence. My mom is laughing right now, because we're both thinking of one particular style that was so horrendous, I still haven't fully forgiven her for allowing our hair lady to perm my hair and cut it so short. Think electrocuted poodle. Now think of that poodle going through the dryer cycle a few times with a stray cat. That is almost as bad as I looked.

I have to say, we would've made one sweet fro'd couple. I would need to get some darker foundation makeup, though.

And the bangs, oh the bangs. Seeing all these big feathered bangs brings me back to the days when a big curled poof lived on the front of my head for so many years. But of course they were the kind that split in the middle--half curled backwards and half forwards. All you ladies know what I'm talkin' about.

Um, I still kind of have this hairstyle, don't I? Just a bit longer. And Jeremy only wishes he had so much chest hair to flash during highschool. I don't think he had to shave till he was 20 (no! not his chest, shave his face).

Gotta love the crispy permed look we all wanted and the guys' Kirk Cameron wanna-be floppy haircut/sweatervest combo.

Now these last three have me cracking up. While I love the middle one rockin' the mullet, I have to say that the other two remind me of Patrick Swayze in his Dirty Dancing days. Something about the eyes maybe? You tell me...

Ramblings: Because we became a bit obsessed after school

Calling all ladies---this 7 1/2 year old is single and available! Last one on this first row looks alot like Grandpa L back in the day...

Alex liked the one with the fro the best. I'm thinking it would make a fabulous Halloween costume.

That one on the right looks like Aunt Alainna (with a weird chin).
And under here--Grandma L--are you missing any highschool photos?

And the last one--I laughed so hard I got a stomach cramp and almost died...

Ramblings: It's been confirmed

Jeremy (sitting at computer): "Come here! You've got to see this! Wow. That is so cool."

Laura (walks to computer--thinking she's about to see something amazing. Like a three-legged elephant jump roping or a break dancing guinea pig.):

"You have got to be kidding me. That's what I walked over here to see?"

Jeremy: "What, don't you think it's cool?"

Laura: "No, I think those people obviously have too much time on their hands. But at least now I know for sure."

Jeremy: "Know what for sure?"

Laura: "That I'm married to an 11 year old girl."


Aerial shot of the David Archuleta-themed corn maze. Story here.

Rant: Anti-Tiny Plastic Women

Dear Polly Pocket (and friends),

As much as one member of this household has enjoyed your company over the past couple of years, I have lost my patience with you and all your tiny rubber tube socks, skirts, and impossibly miniature high heels. You have overstayed your welcome, mostly because you are a hopeless slob--leaving your belongings strewn around every inch of the house.

Oh, and before I forget to mention, I stepped on your pet poodle in the dark yesterday and had to bite through my lip to avoid screaming in utter agony. (She didn't survive the accident, I'm sad to report.)

If you fail to heed this eviction notice, I will continue--and become increasingly vigilant about--sucking up you, your friends, and the contents of your pink and purple Fashion Star Dream Closet with my incredibly robust Dyson vacuum....who shall heretoforth be known as "The Exterminator."

You've had your warning, now pack up and TAKE A HIKE! (You own a huge turquoise jumbo jet, for heaven's sake!)

Sincerely,
Me

Ramblings: Another Day at the Park

This video should be titled: "Why I'm glad I ran back inside to grab the diaper bag before our morning walk to the post office and then the park--or it would've been one squishy, stinky ride back home ."
Subtitle: "The Tale of the Poopy Hands."

Ramblings: Spoiled Rotten Nerd

OK. You've probably guessed it by now, but this one's about...Jeremy. He gets all the good titles. So, awhile back I told you all about the car shopping itch he gets every now and then. Well, his itch got scratched and he managed to get me all nice and agreeable by buying me a giant diet coke and a Fall wreath from Costco. And what better day to pick it up then when Hurricane Ike was blowing through Dallas? (This is a shot on the way home--it wasn't really raining all that hard, but the wind was strong and blowing all the spray from the semi's and cars everywhere.) We took Maddie with us and she kept going on and on about how it was her "special day" with mom and dad. Not as special for you as for Dad, little Maddie. But she got a hot dog and sprite at Costco so she was under the influence, too.


This is his new toy. He's been volunteering to run all types of errands just as an excuse to go for a drive...unfortunately, he won't let me strap two huge carseats into the backseat...yet.

While they were going over all the details of how to work all the totally unnecessary gadgets and accessories, Maddie got really bored so I gave her my digital camera and told her to go crazy with it. I laughed at all 40 something pictures she managed to take in about 15 minutes. I have close ups of plants, ceiling tiles, rocks, tire tread, and a variety of objects that were in the room. She really is getting some mad photographer skills...I especially enjoyed the self-portrait of mostly her nostrils and all the many, many shots of the guy helping us. I'm fairly certain she developed a bit of a crush on him.

You know she's my daughter when she pays homage to the Diet Coke with such a great photo feature. She also found a "special rock" and was very paranoid that I would delete it's photo--no worries, it's still here. She snooped around and found the putting green where the guys must go when they're not attacking anything with legs that happens to walk onto the lot...which means it must never get used.

There was a huge red bow in the next room that she wanted to put on the car for the drive home. Good idea, since Dad won't be getting any birthday, Christmas, or anniversary gifts for the next 7 years. Good thing it's a BIG bow.

And I'm pretty sure I remember her taking a picture of Jeremy making out with the ipod plug for the dash, but it must've gotten deleted somehow. But it's probably for the best, I want to keep this thing PG rated.

Ramblings: Crazy, party of 13--your table's ready

Thursday is a jam-packed day at our house lately after school with Maddie's ballet and Alex's soccer practice. We usually don't get home until almost 6:30 and everyone is hungry, tired, and cranky and there's still dinner, showers, and homework to deal with. So when we found out it was half price wing night, it was a perfect excuse to head over to Buffalo Wild Wings--someone else cooking dinner and then NO kitchen to clean afterwards=mom's dream come true. Plus, everyone screams and yells in there anyway, so we were right at home with our brood. We met up with the cousin crazies and their parents and Uncle Greg and Brooke. Our typical crazy table for 6 grew to 13.

Maddie got bored waiting for her food so she hijacked Brooke's camera and impressed us with her photography skills. (Of course, we were also trying to distract her because she kept staring at these three skimpily dressed ladies in Miller Lite cheerleading outfits that were choking on their own cleavage that was up to their chins. She couldn't figure out why they were walking around wearing barely any clothes.) Apparently the cool face to make when you're posing for a picture as a kid is to grab each corner of your mouth in an attempt to stretch your lips all the way around your head--each of the kids did this without prompting or influence from each other.

It was just their immediate response when the camera was aimed in their direction. But I even managed to catch the cheerleader in this one of Maddie--see the orange arrow.

Avery entertained us with impressions...this is his best Stevie Wonder. And remember when I told you Jeremy is still working on learning to smile without his mouth hanging open? He may need some more tutoring on this. Tara managed a slightly different version of the face stretching pose.

Cate was too busy coloring to be interrupted but Tara and Deanna posed obediently for all 43 pictures the kids took of them. Alex's skills with the camera weren't as good as Maddie's, but once he got his fingers off the lens he did snap one of Brooke and Greg.

Aidan was just trying to figure out how to get his hands around my ice cold Diet Coke. He tried more than once, that devious boy.

And see that maroon plaid sleeve in the side of the last picture? That's all we managed to catch of Uncle Todd in the picture mayhem. (Note Alex's mouth stretching reflex--he can even do it while drinking from a straw.) And I believe baby James slept through the boneless wing fest of a dinner . I didn't see his chubby little bod peek out of his stroller once--but I have a feeling it won't be long before I wedge a little slimy buffalo wing in his hand for a funny picture.

Rave/Rant: Shine Junkie

Why is it when you find a product that you really like, that really works for you, they go and discontinue it and ruin your life forever? Usually, it's makeup where I get nailed with finding out my favorite color is no longer cool enough to produce or something. But this time it's some hair gunk that I've been using the same can of for probably a year. You only have to use a tiny dab and it's perfect for the flyaways, making it shiny without sticky, and just generally smoothing your hair to make it look like you haven't been rolled up in a blanket trying to take a nap on the couch while 2 two year olds peg you with wiffle balls and then you realize holy cow!--ballet class starts in 20 minutes. It's that good. And it smells fabulous--perhaps even good enough to cover up the aroma concoction that results from stress-sweating while trying to clean up your barfy kid in the Kroger shopping cart. Well, almost good enough.

Anyway, I finally used up the last of it and went find some more at the store with no luck. It appears from some online searching that they're not making it anymore. Luckily I found some stores via eBay that still have some...but I'm still bummed because it's going to take such effort in the future to find this stuff. If you wanna try it, better get some soon if you can still find it.

Rant: Hit the Road

I'm using this public forum to vent---because it's better than taking it out on the kids. Alex has this friend that comes over fairly often. Right now I am sitting here resisting the urge to grab him by the ear and lead him to the front door and kick him to the curb. He is the biggest whiner, tattler, and name caller EVER. Plus, he asks me what time it is every three minutes. GET A WATCH! My blood pressure starts rising as soon as he rings the doorbell (five times in a row) most days right after school. If my kids are like this at your house, will you please pinch them!

Ramblings: De-fro-ing Avery

Have you ever been to the rodeo where they let all the little kids chase a sheep or goat to see if anyone can catch it? Or seen those contests where they cover a pig in something to make it impossibly slippery and then someone tries to catch it and take the ribbon of its tail? Well imagine both of those things occurring simultaneously, except that after you catch the animal, you have to shave its head. This is what that event ends up looking like:

Except that Avery is wigglier than any slick pig and bites, hits, and head butts alot harder than most sheep or goats. And he still fought the haircut even though I kept telling him, "Mom's going to win. Mom always wins." And Mom did win, and without any bloodshed, I might add. And believe me, based on the battle there really should've been pints of bloodshed or a missing ear or two.

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I snapped these this morning after he had dumped out his toy box, slid it into the laundry room and flipped it over to use as a stool so he could reach the hanging baskets on the wall where I throw odds and ends. (Hence the totally busted look in the first one).

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Anything that can be dumped and flipped for illegal height-boosting purposes is up for grabs and used for evil purposes throughout the day. Each and every chair we own is put in "time out" on the kitchen counters immediately after breakfast or there are a dangerously high number of life-threatening climbing incidents when I leave the room. They push them around to access anything out of reach. I even found a chair they hauled all the way to my bathroom because Avery wanted to taste a bottle of "medicine" on the counter. Pretty soon I fear I will catch one of them standing on the other one's shoulders all acrobat-style and then I don't know what I'll do.

Ramblings: Teeter Tottering

Anytime I go anywhere with the kids (either the twins or all four) I have total strangers asking me if we're "done" or if we're planning on more kids. When did "four" become the "eight" of the old days? But no big surprise today at Walmart, when the cashier asked me first if the boys were twins (for the sixth time in 40 minutes), then she asked if I had any other kids, and then the big one: "So you must be done then! Are you having any more?"

Hmmm, let me think...(pause to check blue and white name tag)..Tammi, is it? I've known you for all of about two minutes thirty six seconds, and you've already busted out with what is a fairly personal question. Not that I mind answering or even talking about it, but do people typically go around asking total strangers about their family planning? Or is that a right we extend to folks we've trusted to slide our fragile produce, deodorant, and fire ant killer over that little glass scanner? While you're at it Tammi, would you like to know how much my husband makes, how much I weigh, and my preference in feminine products? Oh wait, seeing as you just scanned a giant box of tampons (that the boys will try to eat soon enough) you probably already know the answer to that one.

I think scanning each and every item that people have specifically chosen to buy probably does give you a sneak peak into their lives, their preferences, and/or their weirdness. Maybe questioning them about having more kids doesn't seem like such a big jump after you've seen all the stuff they stack behind closed cupboards and closets. Tammi must just feel like part of the family. Important question before Tammi earns her place at the family dinner table: Tammi, do you babysit?

Of course I didn't say anything rude or mean to Tammi, I'm totally used to getting this question. But I developed a new answer after the kids called me outside on Thursday to see what they were doing...

How could we think about more kids right now? It would throw our teeter tottering out of whack! (Not to mention alot of other things.)

Rant: Attention Home Owners

Um, did I miss the memo? The memo explaining that your garage door has to be "maintained" monthly. Ok, so I've learned this the hard, er...expensive way. When I tried to close my garage door this morning (the boys and I had been out all morning enjoying the aftereffects of Gustav: a ton of wind and freakishly cool temperatures--I'm talking 73 degrees here) it groaned and jerked and the next thing I know, it was hanging all crooked and wouldn't budge. A couple of the wheels were off the track, one of the tracks was bent, and the cord that winds up had come off its wheel and started winding around the bar across the top. Yikes.

$250 bucks later, I have learned that part of what contributed to its problem (aside from the fact its a cheapo builder-model door and opener) is that we haven't been "maintaining" it by "lubing" it each month. Lube is another really gross sounding word, and I heard it way too much today. According to my Repair Man (who was thankfully NOT a perv), no one is aware that they are supposed to be "lubing" their wheels, spring, and chain each month to keep everything working properly. (That is unless you have "self-lubing" higher-quality stuff. Then you're off the monthly maintenance hook, I guess). I'm supposed to go look for some junk called Liquid Wrench.

So now you've got the memo--go lube yourselves (or at least your garage doors) and save yourselves the cash and the headache.

And I love that my group of Men seems to be multiplying everyday: I've got my Tire Man, my Garage Door Repair Man, my really, really incompetent AT&T Phone Man. It's like my very own Village People. Oooh, should I drop a match on Jeremy's Barry Manilow collection so I could add a Fire Man to the group?