Woo Hoooooooooooooooo!

The painting is done, the carpet is in, but no pictures will be posted until the furniture arrives. It is no longer the pit of dispair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The PTA is evil

So as I sit here waiting for the carpet guy to show up, I am thinking about how much I hate being involved in the PTA. I read about other PTA's working together and doing amazing things for their schools. Not ours. I don't mind the work or the time commitment, that's not it at all. I spend time with the choir, teaching CCD and helping with scouts and I love them all. The difference is the people. Everyone is nice (there I go qualifying, because that probably isn't really true), but it's like being in high school again. Which one has the best idea, and who can cut who down faster. In my other activities, no has any other agenda other than to get done what needs to be done. Some may argue against that in my other activities, but in those cases, I get to sit back and enjoy. No, in the PTA it's all up front and too personal. It really is quite disheartening and I can almost guarantee that I won't do this again. What is the worst part of this? Many of these people are going to be a peripheral part of my life for the next 12 years. Ugh. I have a select few that I love and will bend over backwards to anything for them. They know who they are. It's always been like that for me though. I can get along with people one on one, and then maybe in small groups, but get beyond that in a social situation out of my circle of friends, and I shrivel up and pray for it to be over. Oh well, June is fast approaching and then I can give a nice big F&*% you to the PTA.

Excerpts From a Meaningful Conversation

This conversation between Doc and myself took place last night. It is just one example of the deep and meaningful discussions we have in this house:

L: That was a crazy commercial.
D: It's Swashbuckling.
L: Swashbuckling?
D: Swashbuckling!
L: You like Swashbuckling?
D: Swashbuckling is cool!
L: Do you want to learn to Swashbuckle?
D: There must be a Swashbuckling school around here where I can take a Swashbuckling class.
L: Huh. I think I need to put this conversation in my blog.

The end.

"Swashbuckler is a term that developed in the 16th century^[1] to describe rough, noisy and boastful swordsmen. It is based on a fighting style using a side-sword with a buckler in the off-hand, which was filled with much "swashing and making a noise on the buckler".^[2]

Today the term "swashbuckler" has changed, and refers to both a type of fictitious character and to a fiction genre, especially in the world of film."

swash·buck·le

(swshbkl, swôsh-)

intr.v. swash·buck·led, swash·buck·ling, swash·buck·les

To act as a swashbuckler, as in a movie or play.

Seriously?

Okay, it's time for a story about the nephew. I love him, but he is, being a 15 year old boy, a huge pain in my ass. I'm on him a lot for little things that aggravate me, and I don't leave a lot of room for him to talk back and complain. That's the way I am rocking this living situation. I am very passive aggressive and I can admit that readily. See, I just did.

Anyway, we try to have dinner together on a regular basis, the whole family together. The Nephew is usually out at something for school, but when he is home, he eats with us. He is always done first. Always. When we are done eating each one of us is responsible for clearing our plates. Lately the Nephew has taken to clearing someone else's plate. Now, it would make sense if he cleared my plates because, to get to the dishwasher, he has to go right by me and when he is done, I am usually done, but just sitting at the table and chatting. In other words my plate is ready to hit the dishwasher when The Nephew is leaving the table.

Don't get all excited though, it's not me who gets the special treatment, it's Doc. Very consistently for the past month or so, The Nephew has cleared Doc's plates, then walked right by me and off into his own little world. One day this week, he even asked Doc if he was done, and when Doc said he wasn't done, he collected his plates and walked right by me, leaving my empty plate on the table.

To be perfectly honest, I am not the most observant person, so it took a few occasions for me to catch on to what was happening. At first I was pretty insulted, but now it's just entertaining. It's The Nephews way of digging at me without getting bitched at for talking back. That's okay, it's funny now that I see what is happening.

Here's a funny twist, though. Yesterday The Piano Man posted a blog with some movie quotes (we all know I love a good movie quote) and one of them was from Bruce Almighty. It goes like this:

"Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?" (God)

And this quote struck me, because patience is what I pray for all the time. So I decided this morning, I will take opportunities to be patient. As I finish drying my hair, I decide that today s the day. This morning is a new beginning for me and the Nephew. But wait, something is amiss and rainbows and lollipops are not in the cards today. While I walk upstairs to get ready for the day and wish the Nephew a grand morning and chat with him about his successes the day before, I hear Doc laying into him. Seems the boy lent his guitar to a friend yesterday. We have had this discussion about lending treasured items to people. He isn't supposed to do it. More importantly, this means that he will be unable to fulfill his commitment at church this morning. As I come into the kitchen, the nephew turns to me, waiting for me to jump on the band wagon. I say something about his decision making skills and then lamely ask him how his day was yesterday and tell him to just go back to bed.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day. And I am sure that Doc's dishes will be swept away at our next family dinner, while I sit with a smile on my face waiting to clear my own place.

Varitek, the Time has Come!

Okay, I am sorry that the Patriots did not win the Super Bowl. It is tragic and it sucks. But the end of the super bowl means something very exciting to me. It's time to move on to baseball. I am not by any stretch of the word, a sports fan. I kind of really hate sports, but they do serve a purpose to people. Physical fitness, entertainment and all that.

The only purpose for for sports, in my opinion, is Sox Baseball and Jason Varitek. You cannot tell me that he is not all that and a bag of chips. The man's work ethic is second to none. He has beautiful thighs and a very nice bum bum. So I share with you some pictures of the only reason to watch sports. Doc prays every season that Varitek stays with Boston, because if he goes, so does baseball.















Nice








Very suave.












Nice










Okay, this isn't Jason Varitek, it's Mike Lowell, the nicest guy in baseball. He's another reason to watch Red Sox baseball. Doesn't he look happy. We should all be that happy.










Varitek's bum and a happy Mike Lowell, the best of both worlds.







Varitek supporting Lowell, see they are so nice.

Today's the Day!!!

Ahhh, today is the day, the sun is shining, it is 40 degrees already and the work on the pit of despair begins today. It is beginning with the installation of a bigger door so that we can actually get things in and out of the basement without taking chunks out of the door or furniture and then, a closet organizer is being put in so that we have place for all of our crap and then the priming begins. Today is the last day of brown everywhere. We ordered the carpet, we ordered new furniture, it is all coming together and I may actually cry I am so happy. Stay Tuned!


addendum...okay so just the door went in, but it sure is white and pretty. Next step is on Monday when the primer goes up. Whoo hoo.

Oh Mom

In preparation for the grand remastering of the pit of despair, Doc and I began packing up everything on the bookshelves, all the toys and videos and generally making a mess of downstairs. If you have read my blog on organization, you know that I like to change things a lot. I am often moving things around. I change the boys room around a lot. I get bored easily with furniture arrangements

Thing 2 walked in from school and said "What are you doing NOW Moooom"? Yes, I am a horrible mother who will rearrange rooms and furniture at a moments notice, and my child is severely scarred because of it. Just so you know, Thing 1 barely noticed it.