Picture that!

As promised, pictures from the last few days in my insane life.



This is me getting my prestigious "Okie" at the Round-Up. As I stood up to go forward and fetch the award, Mike said, "Say something funny!" I stuttered and stammered and basically sounded like I was having a seizure.

I write. Speaking isn't my forte, at least not impromptu. I'm one of those people who thinks of witty retorts and comebacks like, thirty minutes after the fact.

Maybe the reason I write is because frankly, I'm a little bit simple...
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This is a shot of the flamethrower my mom used to light the candles on Abby's birthday panbread.

Is that not a crazy big flame for a Bic lighter?

To top it off, she used trick candles and nearly caused Abby to pass out. Which, of course, made me laugh because I'm sick like that.
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This is what it looks like when you give an 11 year old a Disney Jams 9 CD. Just for the record.

Frankly, that's what I'd look like if you gave me one, too. That is a freakin' awesome CD! I totally stole borrowed it from her room this morning after she left for school.
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This is our darling Abbygirl the day after she turned 11. Look closely (but not close enough to notice the fingerprints on the storm door) and notice that she's wearing very darling red ribbons in her sweet little dogears, an "I *heart* Oklahoma" t-shirt - and skull earrings.

That's my girl.
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Here she is again, hanging out and posing under her New! Purple! Bed!

This bed is a gargantuan bed! I can stand flat-footed under this bed and my head touches the bottom of the mattress. Yes, I realize I am very short, but how many of you have a bed you can stand under? I didn't think so. And also, this bed is very, very purple. I love me some purple, but this bed almost is too much for even me.

My dad actually made the bed for his grandson who was living in the dorms at OSU at the time. It is made of black metal and constructed for a room with 900 foot ceilings. Unfortunately, our house only came with like, 8 foot ceilings and Abby has enough room to sit kind of hunched over on the bed while her head grazes the ceiling. But ohhhh how she loves her new purple bed that required four cans of primer and six cans of purple Krylon to cover the black that my dad had painted it previously. And did you know that spray-painting a huge bed using six cans of Krylon will give your husband a big blister on his index finger? Yeah, I didn't either. Sure glad he turned down my offers to help paint that bed...


I took tons of pictures of her while we were trying to ignore Paul's cursing of the New! Purple! Bed! as he put it together and didn't take any shots of the finished product. I will tomorrow. I'd do it now, but she's asleep and I don't think snapping pictures in her dark room is conducive to restful sleep. The next project is to paint her desk and dresser aqua. So we can all puke when we walk in her room because the cuteness factor will be too much for mere mortals and can only be tolerated by prepubescents and people who are colorblind.

Too cool for cupcakes

Yesterday our darling Abbygirl turned 11. Yeah, I took pictures. No, I don't feel like getting up right now and getting the camera and putting the pictures on the computer. Not tonight. Tomorrow looks good - pencil me in.

I gave up a long time ago on taking cupcakes to my childrens' classes for any kind of party. Heck, I'll hardly make cupcakes at home. Why am I such a mean mother? Because invariably those little snots will lick off the icing and throw the cupcake away. If you're a mom, you totally know I'm right. And because of school rules that protect our children from ptomaine, botulism and cooties, we can't home-bake treats anymore and have you bought cupcakes at Wal*Mart lately? Too dang expensive for two dozen cupcakes that everyone just slobbers on then throws away.

So I take Little Debbie cakes, Hostess snacks and those itty bitty cans of pop and I am the coolest mom on earth. Nothing makes elementary school kids happier than a Twinkie and a little can of Coke. Well, the only thing that would make them happier would be if Hannah Montana hand-delivered the Twinkie and the Coke, but they get me instead and heck, I'm almost as cool. Okay, I'm not, but I'll still have to do.

I went to work early and left early in order to have time to go home and change into some moderately cool clothes - yeah, like I have tons of those lying around - before entering my eldest child's classroom, the last classroom she'll have in elementary school, the classroom that is daily shaping her tween life into something that will hopefully succeed in the big bad middle school across the street.

If I hadn't sworn off kids altogether (except the ones I'm related to, of course), yesterday would've made me reconsider substitute teaching again. I fell in love with those 5th graders yesterday! Something has happened to them this year - I think it's called "maturity." In Kindergarten, when I went on field trips and to parties, all the kids wanted to hug on me and hold my hand and "Please, Mrs. Abby's Mom, sit by me! Sit by me!" and first grade they were still pretty cute and lovey, but by 2nd grade I had become the enemy. They were aloof and guarded and I was devastated because just a couple of years before I had been worthy of hand-holding.

But yesterday - and I may mist up while I write this, so bear with me - these kids acted like little miniature adults. Yeah, they were wound up, but duh, I had just brought them chocolate, sugar and caffeine and had totally gotten them out of a whole half hour of work, but no kidding, those kids were (I can't believe I'm writing this...) mature. Yes, I said mature. They spoke to me, made eye contact, thanked me and I was no longer the evil mother of a classmate. I think they thought of me as a person. It was weird. One boy, who reminded me SO much of the kid who was the class clown in my class, entertained me the entire time since his desk had been pulled off away from everyone else's. I totally knew why he was back there, but I appreciated his sense of humor. I wanted to tell him to shush a couple of times because I could see the teacher was getting frustrated with him, but at the same time I was secretly impressed with his humor skillz. I like me some funny, ya know.

One of the little girls that is coming to The! Slumber! Party! this weekend came up to me and told me excitedly that she gets to come because well, her mom knows me from Sam's class because her sister is in there and like, well, she just like, knows me and all and stuff. One boy that I've known since they were in Kindergarten (his mom did my awesomely awesome header design - Hi, Lil!) has always been quiet and shy around me, but yesterday he actually spoke to me and asked how I was. Did ya get that? He asked how I was! Like, "Hey, how are you?" And I was stunned for just a moment before I stammered out, "Well, I'm, uh, well, I'm fine!" and I wanted to like, start up a conversation and ask him how life was and how was school and did he have a girlfriend and did he have a college picked out and then I remembered that kids that age are hormonal and moody and at any moment I could again be deemed uncool and decided that less is more and for a split second almost did that tip your head back all aloof and nonchalant and say, " Yo. 'Sup." but then just decided to go with, "How are you?" I think I did okay. He didn't roll his eyes, put his fingers in an "L" up to his forehead or anything. I took that as a good sign.

Abby's *Chance* still won't talk to me much. I asked Ab awhile back why *Chance* won't talk to me. She shrugged. I said, "Well, tell me! Seriously. Am I doing something wrong?" She said, "Mom, you're... well, you're my mom. I think he's secretly scared of you." The boy is taller than I am, which is no big feat, I'll grant ya, but he's scared of me? Oh, the power of motherhood. I have the ability to frighten 11 year old boys by merely existing and having a daughter. Yay me.

Anyway, after they had inhaled their treats they had a science test to study for, so I asked if I could just hang out in the back of the room until time to pick up Kady over in the other building. I sat back there and just observed these kids who were once little and chubby and cute and lispy and maybe said their r's funny and cried when their mommas left them in the mornings and marveled at how, in just 6 years they have grown up into young men and women. Oh my gosh, I totally sound like a parent, don't I? I sat back there in a chair that wasn't so incredibly small like the ones in Kindergarten and took in the ambience of the room. They had decorated their "lockers" which are actually still just cubbies, but omg, don't call them cubbies, Mawm, gawww. (Abby's looks like a shrine to all that is High School Musical. If Zach Efron offered her koolade and a trip to Guyana she would SO be there, I just know it.) I looked around the room at the way they interacted with each other and their teacher, the way they really listened in class, they way they snuck glances at each other, the way the girls flipped their hair and how the boys cleared their throats before it was their turn to read a question and it totally hit me that my little girl is growing up and so are all her friends.

And probably, they really were mature enough to eat the entire cupcake, but like, who wants a cupcake in the 5th grade when there's that slim chance that Hannah Montana or the entire cast of High School Musical might walk in at that very moment and like, they'd all die if they were caught like, eating a cupcake.

Gaw.

Blown Away

Oops, I did it again.

And once again I am honored, humbled and utterly shocked.

Honored that ya'll think I'm funny.

Humbled that y'all think I'm funny.

Shocked because I figured that if there was a category for Whiniest Blog in Oklahoma, I'd have won it by a landslide. Or maybe Blog That Bitches the Most About Algebra. Blog With the Most of The Diarrhea, sure. But Best Humor Blog? Well, yeah, I'm shocked.

Thank you. And God bless us, every one.

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Melessa, you are still so sweet you give me cavities.

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Shannon, I agree with Melessa - if you post about needing to lose weight ever again, I will kick your skinny butt.

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I have so many things I want to write about tonight, but it's after midnight and I still have a Lit assignment to turn in.

But if I had time, I'd write about these things......

Like my sister drawing my children in close for a heart-to-heart talk about choosing a career that doesn't involve wearing a hair net and glaring at people in the hospital corridor. Because, lemme tell ya, that was just about the funniest thing I've heard in a long time.

(By the way, if your job involves you wearing a hair net to work, let me just say [before the hatemail flies], I applaud you for working and having a job. Secondly, the hair net does not make the man. Or woman. It's the glaring at people in the corridor that makes you a nasty person. If the hair net makes you so angry you have to glare at people, find a hair net-less job. It's also my sister who makes situations so dang hilarious.)

I'd also like to write about the $1600 JACKPOT I WON LAST NIGHT! It was awesome. It was also a very good thing I am well over The Diarrhea because as it was, I nearly shat myself.

If I had time, I'd tell you that my husband is a saint among men. Not only has the guy been sorely deprived of sex (because his wife is so overwhelmed that sex? What's this sex you speak of? Have I ever done this "sex" thing and if I did, did I like it?) and deserves a medal just for that, but he also sent me shopping today. ON MY OWN. As in, BY MYSELF. I went to the mall alone with a purse full of money, explicit instructions from the man I married to buy new shoes that don't hurt my feet, new fall clothes and "some of them Croc shoes you like so much." And I also got a caramel Frappuccino and it was yummier than usual, I think because I didn't have to share it with my coffee-addicted 5 year old.

And did you know that Toys R Us is WAY more enjoyable without children?

Yep, if I had time I'd write about all of that.

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Lastly, before I delve into the exciting world of Thomas Paine and his religious beliefs, I'd like to ask a favor.

My cousin and his wife had their first baby on Friday. Ottawa County's newest Democrat is currently in the NICU. She was a few days overdue and had a little "accident,"as we call them in our house (maybe she caught The Diarrhea from her cousin?) and well, the little darling has The Pneumonia now. Today they took her breathing tube out and while her momma and daddy haven't gotten to hold her yet, they did get to kind of prop her up for a proper showing-off through the window to family out in the hall.

She's doing good, getting better and stronger every day, but if you're a pray-er, please pray she continues to do so. Also pray that her momma and daddy get some rest and comfort and strength.

Keith, it won't be long until she's turning 11 and you get a blister on your finger from spray-painting her new bed purple. And you get absolutely mushy when she tells you you're her hero. And Alyssa, it will be like, day after tomorrow when you want to wring her neck when she tells you that you're dorky and can you please not wear that shirt when you come down to the school next time? And soon, when she falls asleep in your arms, you'll not be able to express how that feels in adequate enough words, but it will honestly be one of the best things you'll ever feel in your life.

But in the meantime, rest. Know we're thinking of you and praying for you.

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By the way, Abby turns 11 tomorrow. Her daddy has a blister on his very purple index finger from using 6 cans of Krylon to spray paint her new bed. The gigantic bed that is gigantically gigantic. And yeah, she told me I was dorky just today. But when I tucked her in awhile ago and she hugged me so tight and told me I was "secretly cool"......well, it's honestly one of the best things I've ever felt in my life.

When you're sliding into home...

Ugh. I got sent home from work today. Not because I'm a bad employee, but because I'm a germy one.

Abby didn't go to school today because she had The Diarrhea (She would die a thousand deaths if she knew that I'd just announced the state of her intestines this morning to the entire World Wide Web, so don't tell her, 'kay?). When I tucked her in last night she said her stomach was rolling and cramping and considering Tots One and Two were out of school yesterday, I figured it was her turn. Yep, this morning, it was official - she had The Diarrhea.

Ever noticed how it's not, "I have diarrhea"? No, it's, "I have The Diarrhea." I always feel like when someone says they have The Diarrhea, the phrase should be followed by a dramatic "duh duh DUMMMMMMM." Like my papa used to say, "He's got The Gout," or "She come down with The Shingles,"not just plain gout or shingles, mind you, but The Gout and The Shingles. Bad stuff The Gout. And The Diarrhea. Duh duh DUMMMMM...

Looks like I have a case of The Digression.

Annnyway, Mom offered to take Abby with her for the day so I could go to work, then work, then class. I got around, got four of the kids off to school, sent Abby and some Imodium with Mom and finished getting ready for work. By the time I left I was feeling kinda, ya know, upset. Just kind of a roll-y, ache-y feeling in my guts. But forge on, did I, because I had not only one work to go to today, but two. Plus Macro.

About halfway to town my head started pounding and the rolling in my guts was accompanied by a feeling like I wanted to hurl up everything I'd eaten for the past month. I got to work, telling myself that some Tylenol and a Coke would fix me right up, but instead I dumped my purse on my desk and ran straight to the bathroom. Ugh. I went back to my desk after purging from every available orifice and took two Tylenol. Then I laid my head against the back of my chair and closed my eyes and waited for the Grim Reaper.

A caseworker walked by and asked if I was meditating. My grunt in reply was enough to make her come back and ask if I was okay. When I told her I wasn't feeling too hot, you should've seen that woman do a quick backstep away from me. Bless her heart, I don't even think she realized she reacted as if I'd just hollered, "Unclean! Unclean!" like a leper back in Bible days. She told me to go home, told me our supervisor (who was in a meeting) wouldn't mind and said, "Honey, as bad as you look, no one is going to ask you to do anything anyway. Just go home." So I did.

I texted Paul as I was leaving the parking lot to tell him I was going home for the day. He replied with, "U got the shits?" He's so eloquent, that man of mine. I replied, "Yah Gonna barf 2. Anything else u would like to know?" He didn't reply to that one. He was sympathetic, I was sure, considering that last weekend he had to call his boss from the toilet at work because he literally couldn't get off of it. Yeah, this is one fun bug. I called Mom and told her I was going home and that's when she announced that she wasn't feeling real great either and thought she was going to lie down for awhile. I offered to come get Abby, but she said she was fine and to just go home and go to bed. So I did.

I slept pretty much the rest of the day. I woke up long enough to watch about 45 minutes of All My Children, but considering I haven't watched it in weeks, I didn't have a clue what was going on and why is Annie's brother so sinister anyway? And when did this JR/Greenlee possible WonderTwin force thing come about? I need TiVo.

I woke up about 30 minutes before Paul got home, ate some Cheetos and thought about working on my Lit test, but the couch looked so inviting I just laid there watching The Barefoot Contessa. I think. It may have been something else. I wasn't all that coherent. It was a bleu cheese souffle, whoever made it. By the time the kids got off the bus, Mom and Abby were here, we loaded some boxes in Mom's car, I fixed Paul and her a sandwich and they left because - as if a rampant intestinal virus running through the family like wildfire isn't enough - the new owners of Tater's Farmette take possession tomorrow and Tater's still not completely moved out quite yet.

God bless Tater's soul, she brought out dinner for the kids and I on one of her trips back or forth from town. I was so hungry by then, but now I'm totally regretting eating. My stomach's rolling, I have indigestion worse than when I was 8 months pregnant and I just want to go to bed.

I missed my Macro class tonight. Hmh. The Diarrhea was kind of worth it.

Oh what a beautiful morning

5:30 - "Why don't you staaaaaaay with me...." Frickin' frackin' alarm.....where's the frickin' frackin' button? Stop singing you stupid country singer.....ah, peace.


5:37 - "Why don't you staaaaaaay with me..." Ah, ha, stopped you before you went further in your stupid mushy love song because I slept the last 7 minutes with my cell phone in my hand. HA! I beat you stupid country singer alarm.


5:39 - AGH! I dozed off! Must. Get. Up. Dude, it's hot in here.....and I need caffeine.....too hot for coffee.......sweet tea it is......


5:40 - Shhh, Kristin! Open the tea bag slowwwly.....open microwave quietly....it's too dang early for those kids to be up.....dangit! Why can't they make microwaves with quiet doors?


5:42 - Guess I'll unload the dishwasher while the tea brews......man, I gotta pee.....no, if I flush it will wake up the kids.....why does flushing wake up children? Raging thunderstorms don't wake them up, but a flushing toilet will.....weird kids..... Oh bless Abby's heart, she unloaded the dishwasher last night. I sure love that kid. Well, I should load it back up.....AGH! Stupid loud dinging bell on microwave! But...the tea's done....Where's that pitcher......ah, put up, how novel.....Man, even the sugar container is loud this morning.....one scoop.....two scoops......(yawn)......two scoops.....three scoops......oh heck, half of another won't hurt, might even help....stir, stir, stir.....seems like there's a lot of sugar in there..... Ice, I need ice.....ice, ice, baby (does Vanilla Ice impersonation in middle of kitchen) Shhh, giggling will wake up children.......Dude, ice is LOUD......drop ice softly.......killing me softly with his song.....what a stupid song......Okay, tea pouring.......wow, that's sweet......


5:50 - Where are my white panties? Gotta wear white panties with white pants......is it too late in the year for white pants? Screw it, I'm wearing white pants......black sandals, though.....is it too late in the year for sandals? Who cares, it's hot......No, those aren't white, those are purple....where's the flashlight? Great, flashlight, no batteries......Okay, if these aren't the white ones I'm wearing them anyway......


5:54 - Turn on shower......ha, that's the only thing I'm turning on these days....Poor Paul.....he's a saint, that man.......Oooh, gotta peeeeeee! Don't flush, don't flush, don't flush......


5:56 - Water cold, better leave it, probably the only time today I'll be cool.......I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair, hee hee, 'cept I don't use shampoo, so technically I'll condition that man right outta my hair.......dang, I'm out of shower gel.......Iew, that soap smells like butt! How does it smell good on Paul and smell that bad in here? Bleh. Okay, guess I'll use Baby Magic Baby Wash, I need to be babied today.......mmmmm, smells like babies.....hmh, wonder if Alyssa's gonna have that baby today? Storm front moving in, good chance......Oh crap, don't forget to shave, you're wearing capris......where's the razor? Ah, wayyyyy up there, how'd it get up there? Either someone's been using my razor or I put it up there to hide it and just forgot.....Hmh, no foreign hairs.......Think I'll use Abby's raspberry shave gel.......I hate raspberries.....I hate shaving......la, la, la, la......Okay, agh, better get movin', shaving takes a long time, no wonder I don't do it anymore.......


6:20 - Ten minutes till time to get the kids up......oh my gosh, it's freakin' HOT in here.......if I fan the door will it wake up the kids? Oh heck, who cares, I'm going to die if I don't get some cool air......whew......Man, I don't wanna go to work today...... So much algebra to do...... Hopefully someone will barf before 7am........Crap, only enough deodorant for one pit? Where's that thing of Secret......ah, one pit smells like Oriental somethingorother and one pit smells like baby powder, sweet.......Perfume.........moisturizer......... Good gosh, need. more. airrrrrrr......


6:27 - "Well, good morning, TotOne....whatcha need?" "Need to pee." "Alrighty then, have fun with that." "Aunt Kiki, when will my momma be here?" "Some time before the bus runs, she's brining you some clothes." "Okay. You smell good." "Thanks, angel. I always knew you were my favorite."

6:30 - "WAKE UUUUUP, CHILLLLLDRENNNNNNN!!" Heehee, it is wrong that I find humor in blinding children with their lights in the morning? Yeah, I think it is. But it's so much fun! "Boys! No you CANNOT pee at the same time and no, son, you can't just pee in the bathtub!" Boys are sooooo strange.....Paul would ask the same thing, though.....males in general are strange..... "Kady, honey, get dressed. You can play Polly Pockets tonight. Abby, are you moving? Good. BOYS STOP WRESTLING!!" My gosh, they've been up 5 minutes and they're wrestling already....

6:45 - "Pauuuuullllll, wake uuuuuup! Ooh, how can you be covered up to your ears in that blanket, honey? It's hot! No, no one's barfing and if anyone does, I get dibs on staying home with 'em. Get up." Back to put on makeup........concealer.....LOTS of concealer......when did those circles under my eyes get so dark? Okay, maybe blush will take away from the circles.....woah, too much blush, now I look like a prostitute......de-blush! de-blush! Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! "BOYS! IF YOU TOUCH EACH OTHER AGAIN I WILL BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU CRY!" Eyeliner.....eyeshadow......mascara will have to wait, it's too hot in here....."Paul, don't tell me you need in here to shower!" "Uh, yeah." "WHY didn't you do that last night after the kids went to bed? You can't shower in here, sorry. Go to Ab's bathroom. You'll smell like raspberries all day." "Aunt Kiki? Why did Uncle Pa-Paul kick that pile of laundry in the hall?" "Oh, because maybe it just looked like it needed to be kicked." Or maybe it looked like me and oooh yeah, he's mad. He really should've showered last night....doofus....


6:55 - "YAYA!!" "TotOne, TotTwo! Get up here and get dressed!" "Good morning, sister." (unintelligible grunt) "Kady! Hair! Now! Abby I'm plugging in the straightening iron, put on your earrings somewhere ELSE, child! KADY! HAIR! NOWWW! Paul, just because I don't have a shirt on does not mean I'm advertising anything. I means I'm hot. Get!"

7:05 - "ABBY!! HAIR! Did you wash your hair last night? It doesn't look too clean. *sigh*"

7:10 - "KIDS! Get your backpacks! SHOES, Kady! You have to wear shoes and yes, they have to match. Sam, you do NOT need a jacket, boy! TotTwo, quit touching your cousin!! Tater, go on, I have things completely under control here."

7:15 - "Mawwwwwm! Can we go now?" "NO! It's 20 minutes until the bus comes. Go play. TotOne, don't kiss the dog. Go wash your hands........ with soap! BOYS STOP KICKING EACH OTHER!"

7:20 - I need a drink, sweet tea ain't cuttin' it this morning....

7:25 - "Kids, go on down the driveway. And stay out of the road, k? HUGS! You can't leave without hugging me! I love you!" "WE LOVE YOU!"

7:30 - Well, no one barfed. Guess I have to go to work.....Okay, bus, where are you? I'll put some lotion on my horribly dry, but freshly shaved, raspberry-smelling legs while I wait.....oh yeah, I see razor burn in my future......ooh, good, the bus.....okay, don't forget mascara.....ooh wow, my hair dried.....I look like Phyllis Diller.......where's that spray bottle......product, product and more product.....I'm the poster child for hair product......WHY IS IT SO HOT IN HERE? I think I'm going through the change.....maybe I should go back to bed......


7:50 - I love hairspray. My life would be so incomplete without hairspray. I bet the pilgrims had bad hair.


8:00 - Earrings.....where's my watch.....forget the watch......perfume......still too much blush, might as well go stand on a street corner as much blush as I have on......oh yeah, mascara......more hairspray......ooh, gotta go clean my glasses now, that last spray was kinda wild.....

8:05 - Man, I wish someone had barfed this morning..... guess I'll do algebra until time to go......now I think I'm gonna barf......if I skip the algebra I'll have time to get a coffee before work.......no, better do the algebra, tonight's the premiere of Cavemen and heaven forbid I miss that......why did I ever admit I was going to watch Cavemen on my blog?

One Great Pumpkin

The kids and I watched It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown today and now it can turn October tomorrow with no problem. I am a firm believer that you must watch Great Pumpkin as much as humanly possible in order to usher in October properly. Who knows what would happen if we didn't and I don't want to find out, so I just keep on rewinding and rewatching.

When we were kids, movies and cartoons were much more sacred, ya know? We would hear the commercials heralding the upcoming SPECIAL TELEVISON EVENT and would beg our parents to not make us go to the bowling alley or to church or to whatever else might possibly be coming up in our lives, just so we could be home to watch a SPECIAL TELEVISION EVENT. As kids we lived for that once-a-year viewing of The Easter Beagle, The Great Pumpkin and whatever other holiday or event Charles Schulz came up with for his Peanuts gang. (Abby said last year their class watched a Peanuts film about a kid with leukemia. How depressing is that.)

I remember that for the rest of the evening after we watched a Charlie Brown special - remember we called 'em "specials" because they were? - we'd try to talk like the adults in the cartoon. "Muah muah muahmuahmuah muah" and when Dad told me that was really a muted trumpet (or was it a trombone?) I was disappointed because I wanted there to be a real person who could make that noise all by themselves and I wanted to be that person when I grew up. That seemed like a noble profession to a 6 year old - adult voice muah-muah-er for Peanuts cartoons.

The next day at school we all felt sorry for the poor kid who ended up at the bowling alley with his parents and missed out on the SPECIAL TELEVISION EVENT that would not be around again for 364 more days. Poor kid had probably seen the cartoon every year of his life, just like the rest of us, but somehow, in our minds, that child was borderline abused and certainly neglected.

Saturday morning cartoons were a big event at our house, too. Heck, they were at everyone's house because that was the only day of the week that cartoons were on - well, not counting SPECIAL TELEVISION EVENTS, of course. We got up at the buttcrack of dawn even though the only toons on at 6 were the stupid ones. But by 7 we were la-la-la-ing with our blue friends, the Smurfs, getting utterly cracked up stupid over that ornery mouse Jerry and his stupid archnemesis Tom and oh, by 9:30 is was time for Looney Tunes.

Overture, curtain, lights
This is it, the night of nights!
No more rehearsing and hearsing our parts -
We know every part by heart!

Overture, curtain, lights
This is it, we'll hit the heights -
And oh what heights we'll hit.
On with the show, this is it!

Over the years, ol' Bugs had various co-hosts, Road Runner and Tweety I believe were the two during my childhood, but Daffy tried a time or two, if recollection serves me right.

I say, I say, boyyyy....those were the cartoons.

My dad was (still is) a pretty no-nonsense kind of guy, but Dad watched Bugs Bunny with us every Saturday he could. I don't really remember him laughing, but they obviously amused him since he watched them every week.

After I got over my disappointment that I couldn't be a muah-muah-er for Peanuts, I then decided I wanted to work for Acme because Acme had everything! If you wanted a robotic girl coyote, they had one. Portable rabbit holes, they had those, too. Virtually any need could be filled by Acme and I wanted to be a part of such an up-and-coming business. Alas, my bubble was burst there, too.

The Wizard of Oz came on about once a year, too. Mom said the first time I watched it I was about 4. She said I laid on our lovely green floral couch (which felt strangely like burlap and would give you hickeys if you laid on it too long - yes, it was that comfy) and didn't move for 3 hours. She said I didn't show excitement at the Munchkins or fear at the flying monkeys or anger at that horrible wicked witch - she said I just laid there, mesmerized, and took it all in.

One year, I was probably 10 or so, they played The Wiz during prime-time. Funny, they never did that again.

Going to the show was a hugely big deal because we didn't go all that often. We weren't poor, but I guess it just seemed extravagant or my dad didn't want to fight a crowd or whatever reason. I remember one of the moms that traded babysitting with Mom too about 8 or 10 of us kids to see Bambi at the Coleman Theatre. We sat on the front row - a first for me - and threw popcorn into the orchestra pit. I'd kill my kids if they did that now, but when you're 11, it's big fun to get away with something like that.

My Nana took me to see all three Star Wars movies - the first two we saw in the Coleman and by the time the third one came out, the Coleman was closed so we saw it at the Thunderbird Twin. I know in my heart of hearts that Nana didn't like Star Wars but she knew I did and she sat through them all with me. She also bought me anything I wanted from the concession stand, something my parents just didn't do, but she was the Nana and she did. Because she could.

My Mom and Dad really wanted to see the movie Airplane! and for whatever reason, took me, too. Nana was there, also, which I've never understood why, unless she just really wanted to see it, which is weird in my mind because she always watched us kids if Mom and Dad went somewhere. I was 7 and obviously very naive - or else my parents were. I still won't let Abby watch it and she's nearly 11. I will never forget the scene where the plane is going down and Leslie Nielsen's vomiting all over his shirt, the cabin is in total chaos and here come naked boobs right across the screen. I think Nana nearly broke something trying to get her hands over my eyes before my innocent mind was further tainted by the vision of big bouncy boobs on the big screen.

Up until I was about 7 or so, movies in the theatre were always started with a cartoon beforehand. And it was usually Pink Panther cartoons. I loved those things. I didn't always get them, but the fact that there was no talking just got me.

But now....now we watch The Great Pumpkin for weeks on end, Pink Panther is on Boomerang every day and The Wizard of Oz is punctuated with trips to the bathroom, microwave popcorn
and shrieks that the flying monkeys will give someone "nightmawes." And I pre-screen everything beforehand for big bouncy boobs.

Bask in the glow of their aviary greatness

We live not far from Grand Lake and being on the creek and incredibly close to the river helps, too - every year around this time we see pelicans. Not dead people like that Haley Joel Osmont kid, but pelicans. The city of Grove hosts the Pelican Festival and it's a big ol' deal, lemme tell ya.

Today the kids were playing outside and I was doing - what else - homework when all of the sudden I heard hollers of "GO GET MOM!!" Of course, I broke two toes, turned over a chair, hurdled four piles of laundry and a recliner to get to the front door right about the time two kids came busting in screaming, "OH MY GOSH MOMTHEREARESEAGULLSINTHESKY!!!" as if they weren't mere birds, but flying fiery missiles of doom and destruction. I remembered reading on Stacie's blog that it's pelican time again, so I calmly told the kids that they weren't Seagulls of Doom, but pelicans. Just plain pelicans.

The kids watched in fascination as they swooped and swirled and probably pooped fishy bird poop all over the area and I had to grab the camera. Oh, not because I was particularly mesmerized by the birds, but because the kids were practically begging me to video the majestic creatures in all of their glory aloft as if there was a moratorium on pelicans going into effect at 5pm and we must capture this moment for the sake of our children, mother, don't you care about your grandchildren?!

So I did. But the best part of the video is at the end when you get to watch my oldest daughter - does she not remind you of Olive Oyl with those skinny long legs? - walk across the rocks in the driveway. That's the whole reason I posted this. She didn't know I'd gotten her hobbling like a firewalker short on concentration and when she saw me putting it up at YouTube she said, "Ohhhh man, you are so mean and dangit, MOM, DON'T BLOG THAT!"

"Okay, I won't."

It's a good thing she doesn't read my blog.

Feeding Back

Okay, the new header is up, the new colors are up - anyone vomited yet?

Yes, yes, it's very pink and purple, but well, I am a diva. I, however, am not married to the colors and haven't decided yet on the final color scheme. I guess I'm test-driving this one until y'all start commenting to tell me you love it or hate it. Or that I owe you a new keyboard because you just barfed all over yours.

If it's hard to read, makes your head hurt or gives you any other non-desirable symptoms, please let me know. To quote Bryan Adams, "Everything I do, I do it for you."

Many, many thanks to Lil for the kickin' header. When I opened my email last weekend and saw what she had created for me, I squealed so loud the dog barked. No kidding. Paul came a'runnin' because he thought there was either a mouse on my desk or I was being murdered (the two are not that far from each other in regards to how much I'd scream) and, once he made sure I was going to be around to finish raising his children, busted out laughing and said, "Wow, Lil sure does know you!"

Oh and by the way, if the t-shirt thing comes to fruition, the header above is what will be on the front of the shirts. No, I know it's not guy friendly, but if you're a guy and you want to wear a shirt that has the word "diva" and a clothesline with a pair of pink panties on it......well, you'll probably have no problem with it. (Sixty, buddy, would you wear it to the next Mary Kay party?)

It's official!

I spent my day today moving my little sister out of the farmette only to come home and MOVE MY BLOG TO ITS NEW HOME!!! I've been a busy girl today, huh?

Please change your bookmarks to http://www.theredneckdiva.com/. The blogspot address will still redirect, but I'd still like to get direct hits, ya know?

And to celebrate the moving and whathaveya, I took some really awful pictures of myself. It's 88' right now here in NE Oklahoma and we turned out AC off. I don't want to turn it back on, so we're suffering through the weekend in hopes that things cool off by next week. Annnnyway, the minute I walked in the door I pulled my hair back in a big humongous curly poufy ponytail and didn't think about taking pictures of my new bling. I'm not taking it down, but I had so many (three!) requests for the bling, I took the pictures anyway.



Those of you who will be seeing me next weekend at the Okie Blogger Roundup, please don't change your plans and decide not to go now. I swear I won't be so scary next Saturday.








I love taking pictures in the mirror.

I am also easily amused.

Look.....a hint of bling on the ear piece.....makes you long for more....I mean long for more bling, less forehead. (Thanks, Dad, for that lovely piece of DNA)









Oh look - less forehead, MORE BLING!!

Glaring white cheek.....need blush......











Please do not be frightened of my glowing white face - I look much better in candlelight. That's why I carry candles with me everywhere I go.

Ecotards rule

But by the grace of God I got a 75% on my Macro test. A 75%!!!! I never in my wildest dreams thought that I'd be thankful and ecstatic about a C. Never. Paired with the 100% I got on the homework assignment (turning in 7 chapters of notes, which thankfully, I took plenty of) I have a rip-roaring 77.5% in the class AND (oh, it just keeps getting better, folks) because of The Curve which is friend to mathtards and ecotards everywhere, that 77.5% is not a high C. Oh no, it's a HIGH B!!!

I was so excited about the C on the test (which I got about 5 minutes before class started) I called Paul right then and there, then promptly sent Tater a text message. Another guy in the class came in right about the time I was squealing about the 75 and as soon as I hung up asked how I got my score. I directed him to the computer lab so he could check his email and get his, then I went back to the classroom. In the meantime another girl came in and I asked how she did. She got a 50. And when the guy came in the room he reluctantly announced his 45. They both looked sick and it made me feel bad for gushing about my 75 to anyone who would listen. Fortunately The Curve helped them, too, and they're not failing the class.

It was decided that the three of us would be getting together to study for the next test. Three ecotards in a meeting of the minds could very well be dangerous. The instructor said if we wanted to stay after class he would go over what we missed and help each of us individually, but considering that, of the 5 people in the classroom, 4 stayed I opted to just make an appointment to go over mine in his office next week.

I overheard conversations from the satellite classes and they all bombed it, too. I feel so much better knowing that.

Misery loves company, huh.

----------------

And now I'm off to help Tater move! WHOOHOO! Can this week get any better? I now have the chance to sweat and break nails and possibly have a stroke in my sister's new house! Awesome.

It's a good thing I love her as much as I do.