Special Delivery

The nice boys from our local furniture store delivered a new sofa today.

Or is it a couch?

A divan?

Whatever you want to call it, one was delivered to me today.

It's the first new piece of furniture I've purchased in, oh, I don't know, 12 years?  10?

A LOOOONG time.

I sold my old sofa/divan/couch/loveseat in my garage sale (along with HALF my stuff).  And now I'm using the money from the sale (plus a little from savings - what little there IS) to do a little re-decorating.

So far, my motto has been EDIT, EDIT, and then EDIT some more.

Every surface of my house used to be COVERED in goo-gah and nickety knacks and fake greenery and picture frames.

We were OVERRUN with the goo-gah, folks.  OVERRUN.

We had goo-gah coming out our hoo-ha's.  I swear we did.

So?  So I sold the nickety-knacks and goo-gah in the garage sale. 

And with that money, I bought myself a couch.

A leather one.  A modern, clean, CREAM-COLORED leather couch.

Oh my.  It's divine.

C'mon over and sit a spell, won't ya?

Tuhr-NAY-Dur, 'Naydur for short

That's the phonetic spelling of the word Tornado.

Well, at least that's the phonetic spelling of tornado as pronounced by an Oklahoman.

You'll need to know the phonetic spelling of tornado in order to survive springtime in Oklahoma.

We have around 25 'Nay-durs every year.

I've lived in Oklahoma City all my life.  35 years. And I've seen my share of tornadoes.  And in case you're wondering, why YES, they ARE as scary in person as they are on TV.

At least they are for me.

However, in Oklahoma, we natives have learned that MUCH hype is given to tornado season by our local television weathermen.  Especially during the Nielsen Television Ratings Sweeps period.

So, Okies have learned to temper their fear when it comes to 'nay-ders.

We never ever believe the weatherman's fear mongering (ratings boosting) unless we first "smell" a tornado coming.

No, I'm serious!  We can sort of "feel" when a tornado is coming.  The sky looks different.  And the humidity does weird things.  Everything feels "thicker" somehow. 

And today when I woke up, I could smell those 'Nay-ders a comin'.

I went about my day running errands.  But, when I dropped William off at school I was sure to have his teacher SHOW me where she takes the children during a tornado drill.  I wanted to know where to send the rescue team if my baby was inside that building during a "weather event" (newscaster speak for "tornado").

Thankfully, the weather did not culminate into a fully formed tornado until sometime after 4pm.  At which point, my family was home together.  Even Dave was dismissed from work early.

And here's the part about tornadoes that will SHOCK folks who "ain't from around these here parts":   We KNOW a tornado is coming, yet we cannot DRAG ourselves away from the television coverage.  I mean it.  We do not take shelter until the last possible second.

When the radar shows us that our house is in the direct path, we FINALLY crawl into the cupboard under the stairs (it's centrally located in our home and is far away from any window/blowing glass).

See that rope-thingy?  Yep.  Nay-dur.

Then we just sit there.  Like bumps on a log waiting.  We wait until we know the tornado has passed.

Then?  Then we run back in and watch the television coverage some more.  Mainly to see if anyone in our area "got hit".  By the Nay-dur.

And THEN?  THEN WE GO OUTSIDE.

We like to watch the tornado leave. 

It's fascinating really.  To see a tornado.

But honestly, it's no wonder our little state has a reputation for, uh, being a bit, er, STOOOPID.

Un-Motherly Mother's Day

Next year?  Next year I'm taking my mother away.

We're going somewhere ALONE on Mother's Day.  Perhaps a spa.

(Me and momma LAST Mother's Day - with a tiny baby Paige)

Because?  Well, when you're the mother of YOUNG children, the ideal Mother's Day involves getting AWAY from your children.

And when you're the mother of OLD children, you want your children to come HOME to you.

Odd isn't it?

So next year, I'm going to fulfill BOTH needs and ESCAPE my children WITH my own mother.

Win:Win!

This morning in church, David took the children and sat across the aisle from me. 

Oh you heard me.

I sat there with my sister-in-law (also a mother of young children) and we quietly enjoyed every word of the sermon.

My children weren't pulling on my dress.  Or crying.  Or whining.  Or wiggling.  Or begging to leave.  Or asking when can we GO?

Folks, it was just dandy.

(This picture?  I took FORTY TWO shots to get ONE where both children were smiling.  FORTY TWO.)

For the occasion of Mother's Day, David made sure the children selected cards for me.  And they bought me a gift (a LAMP!). 

That was lovely.

And William brought me a plant.  One he grew from a little seed at school.  He presented it to me in little pot he'd carefully painted himself.

It's... well... honestly, it's totally ugly.

And I will treasure it for the rest of my life.  I would run into a burning building to retrieve it.  Because he painted it with his little 5 year old hands.  He painted it for me.

I hope he does something similar next year.

And I'll be sure to appreciate it WHEN I RETURN from my trip with my mother.

The end.

Tubes & Track Hoes

So many things happened today.  So many things.

The baby got ear tubes.

Here she is waiting for the procedure.

Can you even stand how pitiful that is?  She has no idea what's about to happen, but she has the sense to look scared.

**weeping**

She did fine.  Just fine. 

Her mommy, on the other hand?  Well.  I'm sure I'll get over it.  EVENTUALLY.

The worst part?  The nurse telling me to be on the lookout for DISCHARGE from her ears.  SMELLY discharge (owing to the infection).

**gagging**

After the ear proceedure, I watched a house get torn completely down to the foundation. 

Oh you heard me.  TORN DOWN. Completely.

And the house was right across the street.  HEY!  I now have a golf course view (temporarily).

And the house-tearing-down was such a big BIG deal, that I opted to let William stay home from school to watch.

Because, be honest, what is more exciting to a 5 year old boy than GINORMOUS track hoe + destruction?

Nothin'.  Nothing is more exciting.

Dave is CRUSHED that he missed it.  CRUSHED.

And I KNEW he'd be crushed, SO I VIDEOED the WHOLE THING.

Did  you know it takes 36 minutes to tear down a 3000 sq. ft house?  Only 36 minutes, you all.

Dave thanked me SEVERAL times while he was glued to the television this evening.

And William said the video was almost as exciting as the real thing.

Men.

Whattayagonnado?

This Story Needs Tellin'

A few weeks ago I attended a going-away dinner for my friend Kim.

Remember Kim?

No?

Well, you'll surely remember the cake I ate at the dinner.

Because, seriously, how could you forget THAT?  (I get a little full just looking at the photograph).

Anyhoo.

Kimmie moved away (waaah!) to Kansas City where several of her friends and family live. 

When she arrived in town her family came to her new condo and spent some time with her.  They unloaded boxes.  They set up her bed and outfitted it with sheets and blankets so that she could sleep well on her first night in town.  They even brought dinner and wine.

Gotta love family.

By and by the family finished their dinner and wandered off into the night exiting through different doors.  Some through the front.  Some through the side by the patio.

By 10:30 everyone was gone and the house was empty.  Kimmie decided she had quite a bit of energy left, so she went into the garage to retrieve more boxes.

And that's when it happened.

As she entered the garage a strong gust of wind blew the door closed behind her.

You know where this is going, don't you?

Yep.  She was locked out of the house.  She had carefully locked the doors behind her family when they'd exited moments ago.

She was barefoot.  She had no phone.

Oh!  And it was pouring down rain.

In her overfed/overserved state, Kimmie felt that her only course of action was TO SLEEP IN THE GARAGE.

She spied an old twin mattress.  A naked, bare twin mattress.

And for warmth?  MOVING BLANKETS.

So our Kimmie settles down for bed swaddled in her moving blankets when she realizes, SHE NEEDS TO PEE.

But our Kimmie is nothing if  not resourceful.

Yes, Internet, SHE USED A BUCKET.  Because?  Well, it was raining outside.  And heaven forbid she get her hair wet.

After she'd peed in a bucket, little Kim was feeling a little bleak.  I mean, this was her first night in her new home.  Her new home.  With the freshly-made bed inside.  This was NOT going the way she'd imagined it.

She began to feel a little sorry for herself.

And that's when she saw it: A bottle of champagne.

HOT champagne.

And so she drank it.  ALL.

And don't you just KNOW she had to use that bucket several more times that night?

But after all that champagne, I'll bet she slept like a baby.

The next morning it was still raining, but Kim REALLY needed to use the phone to call a locksmith.  So, she decided to tap on the door of a neighbor. 

And Kim wanted to make a good first impression with the neighbor, so she didn't think she should walk over BAREFOOT in the RAIN.

The only shoes in the garage?  CROSS COUNTRY SKI BOOTS.

Oh my GAWD I would pay a million dollars for a picture of Kim, the morning after sleeping in the garage, peeing in a bucket, and hungover from an entire BOTTLE of HOT champagne, wearing CROSS COUNTRY SKI BOOTS.

Sweet Kimmie: I hope your SECOND night in your new home was better than the FIRST.


**Edited to add: Kimmie telephoned just now to clarify that she did NOT drink the entire HOT bottle of champagne.  She says there was AT LEAST a cup of liquid left in that bottle.


Well, that just changes everything.  Everything. **NOT**

Cone of Death

I caught a little stomach bug yesterday.

I was sick enough that I crawled in bed at dinnertime and didn't get up again until this morning.

Well, I did get up, but er, uh... for other reasons.

Reasons we won't go into here (you are WELCOME Aunt Susie).

While I was sleeping, Dave decided to take the kids across the street to the golf course.  We do this almost every Monday when the weather is nice.  We slip our shoes off on our front porch and pad over to the greens in our bare feet.

There's just something about cool grass under your bare feet, isn't there?

Dave was busy visiting with the neighbors when he heard crying.

It was Paige (of course - because if ANYONE is going to have an accident and get HURT, it's HER.).

She'd managed to step on this:

A pine cone.

A spiky, pointy DEATH cone.

Her foot looks like THIS today.

And she's limping.

I suppose we'll have to re-think that whole "barefoot walking" thing, eh?

Ikea Idea

Dave and I leaned on our family in all sorts of ways this weekend.

First, we convinced my momma to watch our children.

(How do you people do this - this raising of children - without grandparents to lean on?  Seriously.  HOW?)

Then, we traveled to Dallas and leaned on Dave's brother to let us bunk up for the night.

Why?  Why all the favors?

For this;

Ikea.

Oh, Lovely Lovely Crazy-Big Consumer Heaven Ikea.

I'd only been once.

Dave had never been.

Wow.  Folks, those prices are CHEAP!

And get THIS: they have A CAFETERIA.

And THE FOOD IS CHEAP TOO!

And delicious!

Those Ikea folks are GENIUSES!  They KNOW a hungry man is a grumpy man.  And they KNOW a grumpy man will NEVER agree to excessive purchases.

Honestly, they'd do even better if they served BEER.

Perhaps next time I'll pack a flask for Dave.