A Birthday Conundrum

Seriously, I'm totally confused by the odd collection of birthday bestowals I received today.

First, a card featuring my all-time favorite greeting card characters Hoops & Yoyo:

who sang a delightful birthday tune called "You're Hot"
Uh...not sure what that had to do with my Birthday, but thank you Hoops & Yoyo, awfully kind of you to sing so.

Then next, I got an ipad.  
Awesome so far, right?

agreed.

Followed by the kids showering me with fatty goodness.

Then, most curious of all...I got this:

 

Huh?? A Good Housekeeping Magazine? Sheesh. Have I been too lax lately in my domestic duties?  

(don't answer that, it was rhetorical.)

Okay, now I'm totally confused. Do they really expect me to 

'lose 42 pounds' while I'm sitting on the couch eating Oreo's, M&M's, and Dark Chocolate as I'm surfing the internet on my new iPad??

Really?

I'm hoping they didn't buy the magazine to subtly hint that I should embark upon a serious weight loss regimen.  There's a slight chance my family was just hoping I'd be making more easy summer dinners for less than $5 a serving. Or maybe it's my wrinkles or acne, or worse, my #1 clutter problem.

Yes, a Paradox of Presents.

All I'm sure of at this point is that Hoops & Yoyo think I'm hot.
And that's not bad at 42.

The UnGuest-ly Guest Room

Whenever I visit my sister, my niece Cailey voluntarily gives up her cozy room so that I will have a nice place to sleep.  It is a kind gesture really, as the poor girl ends up sleeping on the couch.

I must admit though, she's made it awfully difficult for me to get a good nights rest in there.  It's not her bed; that's very comfortable.  It's not her cleanliness; her room's always in ship-shape.  The real problem is her decor.  Generally her room looks like your average cute teenage girls room BUT there is always a one misguided accoutrement each time I come to stay.  With every visit I'm always horrified to find one unsightly blemish decorating her room--one that seems to keep me up at night.

On one of my first visits, or should I say sleepless nights,  I found a    "Vote for Hilary Clinton" sign looming in her window.  How could I sleep with that in her bedroom?  One of us was gonna have to go.  About 5 minutes passed before I stuffed it between her mattress and box spring so I would not have to look at it.  Upon my departure, I refused to tell her where it was hidden so she spent a fair amount of time trying to recover it.  And when she did, I also discovered my niece had an imp-ish sense of humor as I found the sign folded up in a large envelope inside my mailbox upon my return home.  A very misguided but CLEVER little girl.

This last visit was the mother of all offenses.  I had to sleep with a huge laminated poster of Edward the Twilight vampire staring back at me.  It was all too much.  So I fixed the problem with a little paper, tape, and scissors...

And after that, I slept like a baby.

Blinded by Pride

This past Sunday I found myself sitting on a church pew, sandwiched between Mark and a friend-both of whom had their readers perched proudly-boldly-and OLD-ly upon their noses.  When it came time for hymn singing, these two nice gentleman graciously held the book open for me to share.  The only problem was, I'm still waging my "fight aging to the death" campaign, which means I still refuse to wear my new readers in public.  This posed an even bigger problem-- it meant that they could both see and therefore they held the book up WAY TOO CLOSE for me to read!

So to cover my wretched aged-ness, I simply lied and said I was so overcome by "the spirit" I just couldn't utter a single note.  When in fact, what I was REALLY overcome by, was my decrepit vision.  I couldn't see a damn word on the page. 

Soon,  I realized that I'd both LIED and SWORE under my breath
IN A CHURCH.  Now I'm old AND a sinner.  Two very bad things.  So now I've got some serious repenting to do.  Which is fine, I suppose, as long as I don't have to do any public reading.

My Nemesis-The Boy Scouts

It's been the most challenging love/hate relationship I've ever encountered.  My total nemesis.  It's the dang Boy Scouts of America.  They kill me.   As Connor just graduated from Cub Scouting to Boy Scouting I am faced with starting all over with another fresh shirt to sew and whole new series of patches to apply.  So, as I sit here behind the dreaded sewing machine, I am compiling a list of serious grievances in my head that I feel inclined to confess.  So I'm neglecting the bobbin for a moment and opting for bloggin'.  Here are a few of my rational complaints against the whole scheme, and a few irrational ones as well:

• Sewing on Patches-  You can just forget hand sewing altogether.  It simply isn't going to happen.  Ever.  But even patch sewing with a machine sends me into cussing fits like no other (as many things often do.)  My biggest beef here is that the whole Scouting program is designed to increase the skill sets of a young boy but I've never seen the BSA figure out that sewing might be a valuable skill set, especially since, as a matter of fact, they'll be earning plenty of patches which will require SEWING!  Therefore, somebody, please, in the name of all that's sacred to Scouting, I beg you...offer a SEWING MERIT BADGE and put us mothers out of our misery! 

Perhaps then they would sell more of this largely unused item...  

...and yes, I'm well aware of the fact that said patches can be applied in many different fashions but seriously folks; gluing, stapling, and velcro-ing just make for a shabby looking scout which would cause the legendary Fred Clark (and admittedly myself) to shutter in disbelief.  

• Those Awful Yellow Leader's Blouses-  Seriously yellow?  If Scouting also added a FASHION MERIT BADGE, the culprits who designed the yellow den mother's blouse, they would quickly realize that yellow is NOT a complimentary color suited to any skin type.  There is no make-up that will offset that "geez you look so pale and awful, are you tired?" look that comes from that darling of a shirt.  During the time I was compelled by lethal doses of peer pressure to be a Den Leader, I absolutely refused to wear the yellow shirt and bought male version in khaki.  An ever so undetectable improvement.

My complaint is legitimized by the accompanied photo above right.  In it please note the leader in the yellow blouse looks dreary and tired and not at all happy with the two fresh and perky den mothers in Khaki who are obviously laughing at her as they mock her gastly yellow blouse.

• Too Many Accessories-  Do you know what kind of rampage is caused each week when we play the "Where's my scout pants/shirt/hat/neckerchief/slide/belt/handbook game?  

This is exactly why I don't buy the official scout socks, wallet, key chain, knife, underwear, flash light, mess kit, hair mousse AND sewing kit.  Can you image the hours it would take to round-up all this extra gear and make it to their meetings on time?

• Mother's Pins-  I never ever remember what I was wearing the last time I was so delightfully honored with my newest mother's pin.  How do you expect me to find them all and wear them at once?  That would be a closet showdown like no other.  But, may I just say, I appreciate getting pins and NOT patches!  Though perhaps each boy should qualify for the PINNING THINGS ONTO YOUR MOTHER MERIT BADGE before these scatterbrained boys should be allowed to award it to us.

• Camp Out Laundry- You can smell the Scout van driving down the lane to drop off your stinky camper and his horrific pile of stench-filled laundry.  There is no amount of Tide and Downey fabric softener that can remove that indescribable smell of campfire mixed with B.O.  A gas mask is required for the first full week after a camp out if one intends on entering the laundry room.  Holding your breath will simply not do.

And that is why, Boy Scouts of America, I declare you my nemesis!

And now that I got that off my chest, I'm off to 

go sew patches on a brand new shirt!
[fade to cussing]

What Mothers Shouldn't Know

Mitchell’s scout troop just got back from climbing Mt. Thielsen and all the leaders seemed pretty impressed that Mitchell scaled to the top of it bare handed. They even showed me photos to prove it. I wasn’t really sure what all the hubbub was about really.  Admittedly, I thought he was a little too close to the edge in the photos and the rocky top of the mountain seemed a tad steep.  But Mitchell likes to hike and climb, no story there.

It wasn’t until last weekend, while driving to Sun River, that I looked out of the car window into the distance and saw a familiar shape on top of a large mountain.  I realized it was from the photos of Mitchell.  To my horror, the tip of the mountain top in the zoomed-in photo wasn't just a rocky craig jutting up from a gentle sloping mountain.  The entire mountain was one big ‘trip and you’re dead’ steep.

“Oh my gosh! He climbed to the top of that?!”

Everyone in the car looked at me with that, ‘well, duh!  Why’d you think everyone was making a big deal about it’  sort of look.

So, I guess that would also explain why everyone was so amused by the photo of Mitchell's cousin Bryce who is afraid of heights:

 

Isn’t there an official Scout Leaders Handbook??

And if there is, this sort of tale with its accompanying photographs should be the sort of subject found under the heading: “What Mothers Shouldn’t Know”.

The PERFECT Gift

Last week, an unexpected and belated fortieth birthday gift arrived on my doorstep. It came from my friend Cindy who became my instant best friend when I moved to Oregon, some thirty years ago. Cindy will probably kill me for

1. pointing out the fact that we're old enough to have a friend for over thirty years and...
2. posting this photo of us...

 Unfortunately it was the only photo I could find without going deep into the archives. I shall preempt most of her complaints by telling you this was NOT an everyday picture of us, we were actually dressed up in country costume (although the costume may not be too far from the truth!).

Just days before Cindy's own 40th birthday, she mailed a gift.  Inside was the most PERFECT birthday gift ever...dare I say I've never seen anyone own anything like it, but I'll let Cindy explain.

Cindy will now be my first official "guest blogger".  Here are excerpts from the letter inside the box...

"I know this letter may come as a surprise given my history of avoiding written communication in the form of letter writing, no to mention blogging, tweeting, etc. as much as possible without causing offense.  So, you may need to find a chair and sit down while you read this to avoid undue stress on your aging organs.

Well, the reason for my letter is simply to wish you a belated birthday.  I've been thinking about you this summer and anticipating your birthday but not knowing exactly what to get a friend who has it all.  Contemplating what is the perfect gift for someone who has earned many titles to date including  friend, wife, mother, mother-in-law, and now grandmother lurking just around the corner.  At this time, nearly three weeks has passed since the anticipated birthday even had come and gone and still I was at a loss.

It was in this state of mind that I found myself standing in the Nordstrom gift department several weeks ago (I must mention here that Cindy works for Nordstrom)...I was secretly trying to find just the perfect gift...at a clearance/employee discounted price which would be concealed...until the item was returned or exchanged at a later date when...undoubtedly it would be disappointing to discover the item's cash value was far less than anticipated.  I surveyed the racks for possibilities...I reluctantly decided to abandon the ill-fated shopping trip...

 As I exited by yet another table strewn with overpriced, bejeweled frames, something so simple yet so compelling caught my eye.  Really, the juxtaposition of the two items on the table left me wondering if the sales person had any idea what statement he or she were making when they laid out these two items on display.   I stopped to consider what at first appeared to be discarded portions of a cardboard box,  perhaps forgotten when a pair of aging Jr. League ladies stopped in to purchase overpriced, Swarovski crystal studded ceramic food dish for their pet chihuahuas.  Upon further investigation, the plain, accordion folded cardboard objects were exactly what I had been looking for all summer!  It turns out, the PERFECT GIFT for a lifetime friend who has everything, it is so simple it borders on ridiculous.  The perfect gift for my now 40 year old friend is a cardboard vase that can also be worn as a hat!  It meets all the requirements:

• Environmentally Friendly-  It is made of recycled cardboard so you can proudly wear it downtown Ashland without fear of attack by environmental enthusiasts.
  

• Chic- Strait off the runway, appropriate in both Manhattan and Lithia parks
  

• Unique- You will be the first one wearing it in the Rogue Valley.  Perhaps even some aspiring entrepreneur will see you in it and be inspired to reopen Rare Earth and become a millionaire.
  

• Multifunctional- Fashion for your head and home.  when you come home from picking the kids up at baseball practice, and you have only 20 minutes until your dinner party guest arrive, simply remove the hat and place it on the table.  Add a handful of tulips and you have the perfect center piece.  Don't add water.
  

• Clever- Acquaintances will be so stunned by your appearance, they will forget to ask how old you just turned and you will be spared all the "over-the-hill" cliches.
  

• Funny- Need I say more?

Oh Cindy!  THANK YOU!  I am...well...speechless!  And, that my friend, is quite an accomplishment!

Here's my lovely hat/vase...I had the perfect flowers to display in it;  some beautiful duct tape roses made by Mitchell, no water needed for these beauties...

And here I am wearing my lovely hat/vase:

Jealous?  I thought so...I shall proudly wear this to the elementary school's open house this week.  Very posh.  The other mother's will be corrugated with envy!

Now...what to get for Cindy?

Free Falling into Forty

So what do you do when you turn forty? Seriously, this is an important question. You can't just succumb to the supreme awfulness of turning that certain age you consider all old people! So my thought was to do something radical...but nothing so radical that would upset my parole officer and land me back in jail (okay just kidding there for all those folks who aren't sure if I wasn't). So plunging out of an airplane seemed like just the thing to do in my fight against old age!

Since I was resigned to my fate I began to form a master plan. I knew I'd be in Utah on the day when my personal mileage counter turned over to 4-0, which is conveniently where my sister Steph lives...yes, my scared, wimpy, easily frightened sister! A big evil smile spreads across my face at this thought. I didn't know if she would do it but I knew I'd be willing to pester her until she caved into the peer pressure...and besides, that's what I wanted for my birthday-for her to jump with me!

I got her talked into it and Steph spent a month freaking out about it but the day of the jump she seemed excited and ready to go...until she saw this sign! Cool enough, she had gotten so excited about actually jumping that nothing was going to stop her!








Here's a funny sign hanging near the counter. I particularly like RULE #9, seriously, if there were problems isn't there a point to which you would actually have nothing else to do but to give up?
Here's the three amigos. Steph, Me, and Kent Tucker. Kent is Steph's father-in-law. She talked him into jumping with us so that she wouldn't back out of her commitment!

Me and my dive buddy. Here we are violating each others personal space as we prepare to jump. Notice he politely looks askew as he tethers my strappy-straps and I help by looking yonder myself! My favorite part in the large bright orange danger label affixed to the BACK of my jacket. A place where I'm most unlikely to see it! Good thinking!
Here I am getting ready to jump, I was totally excited.

Here's me and Steph, I've got two thumbs up ready to go, she's got one thumb up and another cautiously down, and in the front of the photo is my other victim who looks a little too worried to unclinch his firmly affixed hands from his seat to give us any sort of hand gesture at all.. Jury is out on what is going on in Kent Tucker's head!


The leap for life! All smiles!













Look real close and you'll see our landing site. Yeah, were gonna try landing in that teesy weensy itty bitty green grassy patch right in front of the large metal hangers...wish us luck!



Here's Steph and I after the jump! It was soooo GREAT!! We were ready to do it again. Yes, that's Kent right under steph's arm in this photo, not so sure he was ready to go back up just then, he was taking care of a little "business". We now call him "The Puker"!

Here were are with our official graduate certificates! My sister is framing hers cause she really proud of her achievement. I told her to frame it next to her Disneyland Autotopia Driver's Licence cause it's probably just as "official"!
This was THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!! Who's in for next year??