Monday, August 30, 2010

The Secret Men Keep

I've mentioned this once before, but Men are keeping a big secret from us. And I'm hear to blow their cover.

For years I stayed in the house, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning bathrooms, while Ex handled the "outside work," under the guise of "you stay inside where it's cool while I slave outside in the heat." Now I admit, I have a great vacuum, and love it almost as much as Suzy loves hers. (OK I can't find the hilarious post about her new vacuum - you'll just have to read all her funny stuff and find it!)

But nothing, oh no nothing, that I have for inside cleaning compares to the Power Tools Men Have.

They claim this is Work?? Are you kidding me? Saturday I bought myself a chain saw and tackled the tree that had fallen in my backyard weeks ago. Son was supposed to clean it up before he left, but didn't have time. So I researched, asked advice, bought the tools and cut the sucker down myself. It was so empowering! So awesome! FUN. Take that Power Tool and whack through a giant tree trunk like it's PAPER. Powerful. And no I didn't cut any of my own body parts off. Didn't even come close. (Not like when Ex was trying to cut down a tree, fell off the ladder with Chain Saw Running, fell 20 feet onto a split rail fence, which he split in 2 with his own girth, and then refused to go to the hospital.....)

Then there's the lawn. Fire up my new Toro Lawnmower - the one I bought myself to replace the pain in the a$$ mower Ex left me that you need to mix oil and gas. 2 cycle blah blah engine blah mix stuff blah. Nope my Toro you just dump in the gas and GO. Self propelled. Mulching (bagging is so passe). Do you have any idea how many calories you burn when you push mow 1/2 acre?? 374 calories an hour!! Calories burned vacuuming for an hour? 208. bah. Plus you get to be OUTSIDE in the SUN soaking up Vitamin D!

And my personal favorite - the Leaf Blower. Strap that sucker on to your back, fire it up, and blow the hell out of leaves, sticks, grass clippings. And voila! A clean back patio. Clean driveway. So much more satisfying than dusting where you have to pick up every knickknack and then vacuum afterwards.

Yes Ladies, don't be fooled by your Man. Tell him HE can do the housework. Grab those power tools and start having FUN!

Friday, August 27, 2010

The Momentus Move

She packed her bags last night pre flight...zero hour nine am...(that's elton john for you who are lost)

Last first day of school photo or something like that...hugging the doggies goodbye....

Many hours later, arriving at school number 1.. in the rain
Au takes charge and starts unpacking




Getting the loft in place and all the pieces put together....



saying goodbye and trying not to cry



And now college #2.....what a nice bed!

Psyche this is the boss's house at the beach...





the little room overlooking the marsh........


a long day of travel means we need to relax at the beach...so warm like bath water



alas time to move in..."Mom stop taking photos and carry the stuff!!"


Here's my door - can I open it....

We've dumped the stuff...now to organize it...


Sammy is the best friend ever - drove 1400 miles and moved us both in~!

Last hug for a couple months....have fun baby!!!!!!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Calling a Do Over

When we were kids we played tons of games. we had neighborhood baseball teams (no coach just kids), played soccer, bike races, you name it. When something was too close to call, we simply called for a "do-over." Or sometimes someone wasn't quite ready and called a do over. You couldn't abuse it or you were ignored. But most of us chose wisely and saved it for a really important moment.

I'd like to call a do-over.

Now lest you think I'm a whiner I'd like to say this is the first "do over" call in 18 years. For the record I have embraced every milestone, every accomplishment, every new school, new teacher, new friend.

But I'm just not ready to let go.

So I'd like a do over. Not the whole 18 years. Just the last one. That senior year was awesome.

So God, I'm calling a Do-over. Please?

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Letting Go

No words needed. Get the tissues before you hit play.



Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Who Knew Cheap Toilet Paper Had a Purpose?

I hate cheap toilet paper. I hate going potty at work or anywhere that has cheap toilet paper. I thought companies bought cheap toilet paper because they were, well, CHEAP.

I never understood why grocery stores sold cheap toilet paper. Who bought that stuff? And Why? My butt hurt just thinking about buying cheap toilet paper.

Until The Other Day. Now I am ENLIGHTENED.

The Other Day my basement had a minor flood. It would have been a major flood but I got lucky and made a trip to the basement right after my shower and saw the water coming up through the floor in the overflow drain. HUH?

I suspected the main sewer pipe might be backed up, so I had Son go upstairs and flush the [clean] toilet. Sure enough, water came bubbling up through the floor drain.

HElllllooooo RotoSewerCostMe$600andmyleg Company. They came out quickly, unplugged the drain, sent out two sweet 40-something camera men to snake a camera down my pipe (sounds kind of...well, you know. My mom reads this and so I have to stop right there)...and show me how my sewer pipe just might do this again.

One nice cute RotoCamera man said, "So what kind of toilet paper do you use?" Hell of a pickup line. But I had such a high class answer! "Why Charmin of course honey." And what does he say? "Oh no honey, that's a plumber's dream. Keeps me in business. You need to buy yourself that cheap stuff. The big, fat, soft fluffy stuff doesn't dissolve in the pipes which causes these backups. Better get yourself some recycled thin stuff."

Please tell me he was kidding.

Nope, he was not. He said if I didn't switch, I just might have to spend $7,000 to get new pipes laid (something about my 40 year old pipes being all gnarly on the inside and snaggy and catching the not-quite-dissolved paper. Quite frankly it all sounded a little too personal and I just might resemble some of those comments....)

Anywhoooo, next trip to grocery store, I dutifully went to the TP aisle and bought, gasp, the Store Brand. And put it in the Kids' bathroom. The Good Stuff will stay in my bathroom where I can use it, throw it in the trash can, and take the can outside every night. Totally worth the trip.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Fragile Teens

They walk like kings and queens, relishing their soon-to-be freedom. They soak up the compliments on their achievements, seemingly ready to conquer their new school, make new friends, climb to the top of the hill again. They make friends quickly at orientation, figure out how to switch classes before I have even figured out how to read their schedule, confidently take you across the maze of campus to the next session, whiz through BB&B choosing sheets, comforters, message boards, organizational tools. You hold back the tears and the sadness and embrace their new selves. You cheer them on and hope you don't miss them too much.

Until they stand in the kitchen at midnight, crying and telling you how much college is going to suck. How they don't want to leave their friends, their past, their buddies. How they cannot possibly face these challenging new classes, live in a 12 x 12 "cage" and succeed at anything. It is all overwhelming.

And you want to shrink them down to a 5YO size, put them in your lap, cuddle them like you did before they went off to kindergarten, and tell them that it will all be ok. And you'll always be here for them. That life is full of choices and this is but one. If it works out, it will be great. And if this choice doesn't work out, another will come along, and that will be great.

Instead you hug them, cry with them, point out the benefits of going to college now with Facebook and Skyping and cell phones, not like I did, I had to WRITE SNAIL MAIL every single day to my best friend. I couldn't afford to call him. [this was unfathomable to the Teen] And I missed him like someone had cut off my right hand. But I did make new friends - friends I have kept for 25 years, even after moving around the world and back. You try to explain that their life is a big pot of mixing in ingredients, simmering the old, adding the new, making this great creation, growing this wonderful person. You admit it is scary and a little bit sad, but mostly an awesome opportunity.

And you send them to bed with hugs and reassurances, and then cry yourself to sleep wondering if you have done the right thing, given them the right tools, loved them enough so that they will know they can ALWAYS come home to Mama.