5 Things

5 Things in my Bedroom
Various “Bob the Builder,” “Dinosaurs”, and other tapes for ‘the boy.’
An old 486 Computer, still need to transfer my old photos….Grrrrr.
Awesome double pillow top bed, only 48 more easy payments and it’s mine!
Crown moulding, just love the view of my ceiling.
Pile of books on my bedside table to read to Jake and for my own pleasure if I ever get any free time.
4 Things about me that you may not know
I’m an artist, probably not a good one and not very often these days, but I still claim it.
I just started training again for the triathlon I’m doing with my brother in “Oh My Gawd!” 26 days!
Shouldn’t be telling you this but, once in a while I go to a nudist camp.
I am much more liberal than I seem…what a shocker after the nudist comment, eh?
3 Favorite Pastimes
Sushi Dates with Frenchie Pooh
Snuggling Jake – big surprise.
Reading
Favorite Quote
Okay, not my favorite but I found this while looking for my favorite one and just couldn’t resist!
“There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee...that says, fool me once, shame on...shame on you. Fool me...you can't get fooled again.” [9/17/2002] George W. Bush
Finally found my favorite:
Hanlon's Razor:"Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity."

Growing Up, Moving On

My little man is growing up. He has discovered "Lightning McQueen" from the movie, "Cars." Aside from a desperate need to watch the movie at least once a week, we had also decided was time to change his room from a nursery to a 'big boy' room. The picture above is the 'Winnie-the-Pooh' mural I painted on one of his walls when he was a baby. It was to be a different season for each wall. Autumn was completed fairly quickly, winter is still in mid-completion, spring and summer... well, life is apparently too busy during spring and summer to be bothered with painting them on the walls. *sighs*
So, then the movie "Cars" happened. My darling hubby consulted with the other guys at work and found that there was a complete set of sheets, pillows, comforter and rug that we just HAD to have. Our son was in car heaven with the car sheets on his brand new 'big boy' bed. Then, last week, hubby went on a trip with the guys and came home with wall borders and paste-on murals galore of Lightning McQueen and all the other cars from Radiator Springs! Jake's room is going to be the epitome of cool! How can a mom resist when all the men in her family are soooo excited?

McService, Anyone?

This is a completely useless rant but here goes. I have a sinful pleasure, a vice that I have yet to successfully give up. This vice is the fast food breakfast. Whether it’s a steak and egg burrito at Del Taco or one of those decadent yet seriously deadly McGriddles at McDonald’s, I hooked. Yeah, I know. I’ve seen the “Super Size Me” movie and I agree with all the bad press and statistics against fast food … and still I find myself at their door at least once a week begging for my fix. So, being a connoisseur of the greasy breakfast on-the-go, I have my needs and they need to be fulfilled to every specification. That means I need the whole package, which includes whatever sauce and spice is necessary to complete the blissful event, in summation… “Where is the ketchup?”
Why is it that a restaurant which serves some kind of potato with every meal, in a country that is completely and unabashedly addicted to ketchup, catsup, however you spell it; I can’t seem to get any without being downright pushy? I need some kind of sweetener with my iced tea and I need my blessed ketchup!! Is that so much to ask at a drive-through window?
When I was a teen I worked a few months at a fast food joint. It’s not rocket science. They had a manual for exactly how to do everything. Mayo on the top bun; ketchup, lettuce, pickle on the bottom, pillow the patty just so, wrap in the paper with care. Why not a manual for “Give the woman some ketchup, will ya?” This is why teens and those lacking in the finer art of speaking English can work there and earn at least a meager existence in this over-priced, rather spoiled, great country of ours. Personally, when I was schlepping burgers, I found it easier to throw a handful of condiments in the bag just in case they wanted some and to get them out of my hair faster. But it seems in this advanced age of service oriented food that service is the least of their concerns.
I travel most days to clients all over the county so I’ve been to several different restaurants. I also have a local McDonald’s I go to with my son when he wants breakfast. These are people I know by name. It doesn’t seem to matter if you are a regular or stranger off the street. Only one of many of these fine examples of the American way has ever offered ketchup without prompting. I was so shocked at the wonderful service I called the number on the window to give my compliments to the owner. Usually, they foist a bag of food out their window, hand you a drink and turn away before you can even ask graciously for what you need. I don’t want to get all uppity and raise my voice just for a little help. It’s just not worth it. But I do it because, I may die from this food but I’m not dying on the battlefield of not speaking up for a little service!

Turtleneck Client

Yesterday it came to mind that a new phrase as entered my vocabulary. If I were immodest I could say that I've coined a phrase. ;) The new phrase is the 'turtleneck client'.
Yesterday, I had an appointment with a fairly new client. He is a very sweet man who is the business manager for a church. Unfortunately for the both of us, I wore a blouse which accentuated my goddess stature curves and the poor client just couldn't focus on anything else! I think that from now on he falls into this new category of client. Those who necessitate my wearing a turtleneck or some other less revealing apparel to make work possible.

Words with Your Voice

When my brother and I were growing up my dad would read to us on the nights he was home. It’s reassuring to think back to that time of my life and realize that I remember so much more of the nights my dad was home than the ones he worked. My father is a very thoughtful and imaginative man. His creativity carried over into his brand of fatherhood. Most nights he would read whatever stories the two of us chose for him to read, my favorite was always “The Fourteen Bears, Summer & Winter.” I know my father read this book a couple thousand times or more and never complained. At least not that I remember. Amazing how children never get tired of their favorite stories. Now that I’m a parent and find myself reading my son’s favorite stories four dozen times, I have to laugh at the passing of the torch. I expect my dad’s way of combating the eternally pleasing ‘same’ stories was by making up his own. He would snuggle up with us in bed and he’d ask us to give him names for the characters or he’d use our names (always a crowd pleaser) and he’d create a story as he went, making up twists and turns in the rambling plots, asking us for clues to what we would want to happen next.
Now that my son is old enough we are doing the same thing. Jake puts his own unique brand of imagination to the tales and we have a grand time. My brother and I used to ask for ‘made-up stories.’ Jake will crawl into bed with me and say “Mommy, tell me a story with your voice.” We pick names; Comfy Monkey is usually a key player, that’s his favorite stuffed animal. He loves any stories with dinosaurs, sharks and monsters. Though, at 3 years old, he always tells me, “They’re good monsters mommy.” “Of course they are Jake”
Last night we had an impressive round of voice stories. Daddy came up and listened too. Jake gets so excited and animated that he usually takes over our stories if he doesn’t like the way my plot is forming. Comfy Monkey was swinging down out of his tree house where he lived with Jake, Jack, David and Nicole (friends from Jake’s school.) He landed near a river and a shark came up on land with a football and asked Comfy if he wanted to play. At this point it gets interesting. Jake decides that we need a bat. So, we change to playing Base-Ba-Football. The shark winds up for a swing, hits the football square on the laces sending it through the goal posts and runs the bases. Rousing from sleep just then, Daddy yawns and re-focuses on the story saying “Hey, those aren’t the rules in football!” It seems Daddy was sleepy and missed the lane change to the new game. That’s the joy of voice stories; there are no hard set rules for anything.
I love that this has become a tradition. It didn't start out that way, I just found myself telling my son stories and realized it is something I'm passing down from my father. Do you have any childhood traditions that you have continued in your present life?

Shamelessly Cute

Okay, shamelessly cute pic, lol.
This picture was taken at Shawn's family reunion in Illinois a couple years ago. Jake was adorable when we bundled him up in eight layers of snuggly, warm clothes. I just couldn't keep a smile off my face as Jake stood there, almost unable to move and Shawn saying to me, "I think he needs one more layer, just to be safe."